Death of a Salesman

So there I was, perfectly relaxed and content in my home. I was cooking up some Black pearl on the stove and listening to "Dez only one" by the Witchdoctor when I heard the doorbell ring. I was right in the middle of singing along with Andre on my favorite verse of the song:

The Sun shines
The Moon Glows
The Wind Blows
The Rain Falls
But that ain't all
My heart pumps with a rhythm yall.....

....and this unexpected disturbance broke my timing.

I had just caught back up with the rapid-fire delivery when the doorbell rang again. An involuntary growl rumbled from my throat and I eyed the rack of carving knives to my left. Della Reece's classic line from Harlem Knights resonated in my head "Now I got to cut cha, thats the rule." I placed my spoon next to the stove, selected the cleaver from the rack and started towards the front door. Halfway there the doorbell rang again. Muthafucker must be impatient to die, I thought. I flung open the door and saw it was some middle-aged white guy with a briefcase. "Hello sir, may I interest you in some...." He never finished what he was saying because I stabbed the knife into his chest as hard as I could. I am a pretty strong guy but this fucker must have had a titanium breastbone or something cause I could only get it in about 3/4 of the way to the hilt. I could feel the bone splintering as I did it though. He gasped for a couple of seconds and then fell backwards.

I dragged his body inside after I had put some plastic down and then went through his briefcase. Here's the kicker: HE WAS TRYING TO SELL ME LIFE INSURANCE!!!!
I had a few hours of laughs about that one after I shot up. I hope he bought some of his own!! Man that's funny. It more than made up for me missing out on my song. I just requed it after all had settled down. Yep, I rule.