2633. Death by coffee mug

When Penelope Johnstone bludgeoned he husband, Freddie, to death with a hefty ceramic coffee mug all she could think of was thank heavens there wasn’t any coffee in it.

It’s not that she was callous. The bludgeoning had been spontaneous and the “Thank Heavens” thought came into her head at this tragic time and wouldn’t go away. Penelope and Freddie had been having a quiet cup of coffee at the kitchen bench. Penelope asked Freddie if he thought they should do something special to celebrate their fifty-seventh wedding anniversary next Wednesday, and when Freddie said “Dunno” Penelope saw red and bludgeoned him to death with her empty coffee mug. Penelope could offer no explanation for what had suddenly happened, and all she could say to the judge was “Thank heavens there wasn’t any coffee left in the mug. We’d just got new carpet.”

The judge was wise enough to realize that it was a strange and tragic upturn of events that was neither premeditated nor stemmed from long-term repressed negative feelings for a spouse. In such circumstances the judge lent towards leniency and compassion. He gave Penelope Johnstone a hefty amount of community service and hoped she could move on.

Of course, Penelope was sad yet over the moon with relief. As she said to her friend Samantha on the phone once all was over, “Thank heavens there wasn’t any coffee in it.”

23 thoughts on “2633. Death by coffee mug

    1. Bruce Goodman Post author

      Thanks Herb. I got the idea off a trial in LA where the woman (whose surname was Goodman! – I was doing family tree research!) bludgeoned her husband to death with a coffee cup. Fortunately they turned out to be no relation.

      Liked by 1 person

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      1. Herb

        He probably tried to give her decaf and she flew into a caffeine-withdrawal induced rage. I’m sure it happens all the time.
        Family history research can be interesting. My wife and I did the DNA thing and found some interesting things.

        Liked by 1 person

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          1. Herb

            lol. Not quite as bad as all that although I have heard stories like it. I found out that the man who raised me, that I called Dad, was not my biological father which was a bit of a jolt. I decided that, biology not withstanding, the man that raised me and loved me was my real dad.

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