Minda 1

The prison psychologist Ms Shapiro smiles warmly, "Mr Riley, always a pleasure to see you. My very best client, more progress than anyone."
(Yikes, what does that say about the rest?)
"Everyone else gives off all those hate vibes, hating the prison system, all pyschologists, anyone in a position of authority. Most manage to hate all women and a few throw in the bonus of antiSemitism. Yet you, cool affable, hate no one at all, despite having done more murders than all the rest of my caseload combined."
I smile uneasily, wondering where she's going.
"Everyone else gives a lot of yes or no or grunt which could be either. Not you, very helpful. Mostly you have four standard lines:
1. I don't know, ma'am.
2. I never thought about that before, ma'am.
3. I'd prefer not to talk about that, ma'am.
4. I consider that taboo, ma'am.
Now depending on which one you answer to any particular question gives a lot of insight. I'm immensely pleased with our progress thus far. But ah, how do you feel about these appointments?"
I stare at her in wild disbelief.
Grin, "ah once again too polite to state the obvious, sick to death of me and more."
I blush.
"Mr Riley, it's not my job to drag you in here every two weeks for the rest of your life, but it is within my authority to do so. I really only need you here til the psy profile is complete. So, if you considered being just a bit more helpful, it'd save a lot of appointments."
I ponder a moment, "all right ma'am, bring it on, I'll try anything except taboo."
"Good, now do you admit, informally of course, that you did the crimes you were convicted of?"
"Yes ma'am."
"Now the harder question, motivation. You did 188 serial killings of Revenue employees. Yet your tax history was carefully examined in court. Never in arrears, never late, never re-assessed, never in dispute. So, where exactly does all that hate come from?"
I blush, "ma'am, it all got started by accident."
She gasps, then, "a little more detail please."
"Yes ma'am, see the first killing was in a coffee house 1:30 pm on a Monday. See my job was Tuesday to Saturday. I'd been at the library and borrowed a Sartre book. Now this coffee house had an L shape edge, where counter staff and other customers couldn't see. Anyhow, this fat swine comes in, calls me a fairy for reading that stuff. I feinted with a right, then left uppercut to the nose, really only meaning to give him a hefty dry cleaning bill. Unfortunately it was the exact angle to drive the nose bone into the brain. My coffee was in a styrofoam cup, so the fingerprints went out the door with me. Cool and casual, walked out, no one noticed me. Wasn't until later, on the news, discovered that loudmouth was actually a Revenooer."
Struggling not to laugh, "and then?"
"Some things in life feel so darn good, ma'am, you simply do not stop."
"I see our time is up. Thank you for being so candid."