The house had been in disarray for days now. Books littered the floor and his thumb was callused from the turning of the pages. He would find it. He had to.
The idea had popped into his head when the boss, yet again, tormented him and called him no-good. In this economy, a person couldn’t afford to find another job, but how much should one person be expected to take?
For the next couple of days, calling in sick, he searched frantically for the passage he sought, knowing it detailed exactly how he was to exact his revenge.
Tom knew the book was a work of fiction, but he also knew that authors checked their facts. It had to seem plausible or the story would fall flat, right? That’s why so many movies failed: some images just didn’t translate realistically. Besides, who read books nowadays? He was guaranteed to never be found out.
When he finally came upon it, ten days later, he danced around in exhilaration. Laughing manically, he ordered some chinese food and started to work up the plans for revenge.