CNPS numbers spotted 7 (892).
Had there been any justice in the world, when I arrived at the flat last night there should have been surveillance photos of me all over it eating beefburgers and fried chicken and Madeleine should have let me into the room myself before following me in and saying, "So, you're a vegetarian are you? So you don't eat any meat at all, you say? Then EXPLAIN THIS!" Then all the other Spanish activists should have burst in naked but for animal masks and started beating me and maltreating me and possibly eating me. To teach me a valuable lesson about hypocrisy. And why you should be vegetarian forever. Whilst still managing to get some vital nutrients that are missing from their boring diet.
Instead we'd sat for a while talking about the day and her childhood being the daughter of a trapper and then I went to bed.
"You'd better not be a psychopath," she'd said as we'd got off the bus. If I was a psychopath I would hardly have said, "Oh yes sorry, I am. I should have mentioned it before. Well I'd better not come in then."
But now as I lay in my bed listening to the strange sounds going on this hot block of flats in a foreign city I began to worry, "What if she is a psychopath? What if the whole making sure I wasn't a psychopath thing was just a ploy to detract attention from the fact that it was her that was the psychopath? What if we were both psychopaths and just as we were about to kill each other realised we had a shared interest and decided to team up to commit our crimes together?
Oh no hold on, that wouldn't work. Because I wasn't a psychopath. But if she turned out to be one it might be good to pretend I was one too and then string her along for a bit - maybe killing a few people to keep up the illusion, before escaping to inform the authorities.
Still I was a little bit worried that I had been reckless to accept hospitality from a complete stranger. I suppose I was fairly confident that I could protect myself against her. She was quite a slight young woman. But then the door-bell rang and I heard a man's voice. This seemed very late for visitors (it was after midnight) and she hadn't told me anyone was coming round. What it the bloke who had arrived was a psychopath, who had discovered Madeleine was a psychopath when they had both nearly killed each other, and now they had teamed up to find victims together and she'd jsut texted him to say she had another prime one. Even if the bloke had thought like me that he'd just pretend to be a psychopath, he might well still participate in my torture and murder in order to make himself look genuine. Worst of all, what if it had all started with a terrible misunderstandning and neither of them actually were psychopaths, but were now both pretending to be in order to win the trust of the other, so they could eventually make their escape? I could end up dying for nothing, when there are plenty of real psychopaths out there who would love to see me tortured, humiliated and killed and get off on it and stuff. I didn't want my untimely demise to be wasted on a couple of pseudo-psychopaths who wouldn't even enjoy it and would be secretly sickened by it.
I just hoped that I was being paranoid.
They talked loudly (maybe this is how all activists are) in Spanish about something. If they were going to kill me and turn my skin into a coat for a mink(oh the delicious irony) then they were certainly taking their time.
I managed to fall asleep despite my worries.
In the morning I was shepherded out of the house pretty quickly. There had been talk the night before of croissants and maybe a quick trip to the cathedral. But in the night something had changed. Perhaps she had been on my website already and seen me talking about eating fried chicken and stuff. Or maybe the mysterious pretend psychopath man had her under his sway in some way.
As I left my paranoia reached new heights. As far as anyone else in the world knew I was the only person to have stayed there last night - no-one would believe the story about the bloke turning up so late. What if only he was a psychopath and neither me nor Madeleine were, and he was still there and waiting to get rid of me so he could have his psycopath way with her.
Then if she disappeared the police would think I had done it and he'd get away scot free and I'd spend the rest of my life in a Spanish prison, probably still having to keep up the pretence that I was a vegetarian out of some sort of embarrassment.
It was the perfect crime for this mysterious man.
A crime that would be made even more perfect if I then wrote down my delusional fantasies on my own web page, which turned out to be correct, but would only make me look like I was inexpertly trying to cover my tracks by claiming in advance that I had nothing to do with it. On the plus side, if this happened Madeliene would never find out I had lied to her. On the negative side, me saying that her not finding out was important to me would just give me a motive to have her disappear. And make me look even more guilty.
More likely she just wanted me to go so she could get on with her day. She had been very hospitable anyway and all she had had in return was unknown lies and accusations of psychopathicity.
I was glad to be going home. Away from the lies and the psychopaths. To London, where neither falsehoods or insane murderers exist.
For those of you who have had either you interest pricked or your prick interested by the running of the nudes, here is the website address.
http://www.runningofthenudes.com/
Why not give it a try next year. You'll be supporting a good charity and plus it will be a chance to see some young women bare. And some old men. And some old women. And some fat comedians.
