The defendant flipped on the TV and started watching the Three Stooges. In his confession, he said he liked the Three Stooges. Curly was his favorite.

Moe hit Curly with a hammer, so the defendant hit the victim with a hammer. Again and again and again. He broke bones in places and made dents in others. When Curly threw a pair of pants onto an ironing board, the defendant followed his lead and plugged in his own iron. As the iron warmed up, Moe pulled out a cigar. The defendant decided to have a smoke too. Moe lit that big stogie and then inadvertently tossed the match over his shoulder. It landed in Larry’s rather expansive hairdo. The defendant laughed as Larry grimaced and fanned himself from the heat atop his smoking head. The defendant put a match to the plumber’s hair and laughed as the flames raced across the plumber’s flat top, leaving a mound of singed, porcupined needles. When the plumber screamed in silence, the defendant laughed even harder. Then the iron was ready. He pressed it to the plumber’s back and chest and face just as the Stooges had done on a previous episode. But the plumber was still alive. The defendant took a butcher knife and slit the plumber’s belly open in two places from hip to hip. The plumber’s intestines spilled out onto the floor. He died a short while later. The Stooges had never done anything like that, the defendant said. He thought they would be proud.

At trial, the prosecution sought to enter four poster-size photos of the victim into evidence. The defendant’s attorney objected, saying these photos would prejudice the jury. Good ol’ Judge Bailey made the right call. He allowed the photos into evidence. All four. God bless Judge Bailey. He knew the photos were damaging, but hey, the defendant deserved to be damaged. The photos were placed directly in front of the jury, staged on easels as if a collection of art. Tears flowed immediately from the eyes of Jurors 2, 3 and 7. They didn’t attempt to hold anything back. Almost all of the others gasped and then swallowed their tears as they turned their eyes away. Juror 11 stared at the defendant with hatred in his eyes. Good. We had our foreman.

I should remember the plumber’s name. I should. I really, really should.

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