Chapter 5. Douglas Coupland.

An art gallery was having a showing of Douglas Coupland’s work. They wouldn’t let me in when I said I was from a newspaper.
“Ha ha,” I said. “I was just kidding. What decade do you think this is? I’m an art buyer.”
“Oh, thank god,” the gallery owner said. “Thank god.”
Then I waited around until Douglas Coupland showed up. He was late, but I brought a book to read. He writes books too. He wrote one about Microsoft programmers, sort of. And one about bees that go missing. So I flipped though one of his book for a while, until I realized that people were staring at me.
Anyway, so Coupland showed up, and I busted him in the knee with a frozen turkey. I have to tell you, he didn’t see that one coming. He looked so confused. What was going on? What could a frozen turkey possibly have to do with him?
“It didn’t seem worthwhile thinking up a new murder for you,” I said.
“A new murder?” he said. He looked around for help. Nobody was paying attention. I lifted the frozen turkey up over my head.
“Don’t be a baby about this,” I said. “You’re lucky you even made the list.”