It was one of those phony numbers.
You know, a scam call of sorts, but I picked up anyway.
The voice was foreign, hardly understandable.
“Hi…is this VJ Duke?”
“No,” I answered, “this is Professor VJ Duke. VJ Duke isn’t home.”
“Do you know when VJ Duke will return?”
“It’s likely never,” I said. “I kinda pushed him out of his house, you know.”
There was some silence.
Then finally: “Sir, do I have to call the police?”
“That wouldn’t be very nice of you,” I answered. “Plus, where’s your Christmas spirit?”
“Sir! What have you done with VJ Duke?”
This professor must admit: I was surprised by how this fellow was getting worked up by the whole matter. And I couldn’t resist being even more wicked.
“I’ve done with him as he deserves.”
“You either tell me, or I call the police!”
“Well, okay, I’ll tell you. See here, VJ Duke said to me: ‘Professor VJ Duke, I want you to kill me. For in an hour or so, some annoying scam caller is going to call here, and I don’t want to have speaks with a scam caller. I’d rather be dead.’ So, I killed him to save him from you—if that makes sense.”
The police never came. I suppose the fellow learned a lesson.