Caerus

It’s nice to go out drinking with friends who have your back, especially for when you end up vomiting or curled up in a ball crying after you’ve been rejected by your crush. Friends are a great insurance for keeping your life on track (though you probably shouldn’t think of your friends as insurance plans), so try your best to make sure you ain’t surrounded by fake bitches. 

This is why I want to talk to you about Michael Malloy, who indeed, was surrounded by fake bitches.

Michael Malloy was an old, Irish, homeless, retired firefighter living in New York around 1932. Malloy seemed set to spend the rest of his days, from morning to evening, in his favourite bar drinking himself stupid (I mean like goddam this guy could drink). The owner of the bar, Tony Marino, along with his two friends Daniel Kreisberg and Francis Pasqua were regulars at the bar and were well acquainted with Michael Malloy, often drinking with him. These people, as well as the bartender Joseph Murphy, were the closest thing Michael Malloy had resembling friends. 

However, Marino and his buddies grew tired of the fact that Malloy was unemployed and broke, thus never paying his considerably massive tab as a result. Apparently he also smelled bad, with the stench becoming the regular aroma of the bar given that Malloy spent many nights on the barroom floor. 

One day, Marino and the boys hatch a sinister ploy to exploit the poor Malloy. They set up a life insurance policy for Malloy and then told the man he can drink as much as he likes for free. They figured due to the insane amounts of alcohol Malloy consumed, the man would die soon and they could all be rich. The schemers were set to make $3576 which in today’s money is something like $66, 000. 

Being the alcoholic that he was, Malloy was pleased to be told that there was no limit to what he could consume, and he proceeded to drink more than he ever did, upgrading from beer and rotgut to only rotgut. This continued for a few weeks with Malloy’s condition as ‘healthy’ as ever. The schemers decided to take some initiative themselves by swapping Malloy’s usual Rotgut with methanol. You may not be familiar with either rotgut or methanol. Rotgut is a strong and fairly volatile alcohol which you definitely don’t want to drink while methanol is something even stronger. Two shots of pure methanol should be enough to kill a man. Michael Malloy was downing shot after shot of methanol and somehow didn’t die, consistently showing up to the bar the next day and repeating his indulgence, the whole time thanking God that he had been blessed with such good friends. 

The schemers progressively moved on to less covert tactics beginning with a plate of expired oysters soaked in methanol served to Michael Malloy. The man wasn’t even mildly sick after eating. Malloy then got served a sandwich filled with expired sardines soaked in methanol. The sandwich was also topped off with a bunch of rusty nails as the schemers hoped to cause some internal bleeding. Michael Malloy’s behemoth of a stomach, however, felt nothing. In fact, he found the sandwich tasty enough to ask for another. 

Becoming increasingly frustrated, the schemers were desperate to find a way to kill the man. One freezing winter night, after Malloy had passed out on the floor, they drove him a fair distance to a park, dumped him on the ground, took off his clothes and covered him in water hoping he would freeze to death. Malloy was back at the bar the next day before it was even open.

Increasingly frustrated, but also baffled, at Malloy’s insistence on surviving, the schemers were coming up with less elegant plans to kill Malloy. They thought they had the one when they drove over Malloy with a friend’s taxi, reversing back over him for good measure. Keep in mind that Malloy is over 60 years old, an age where a simple slip can be enough to kill you, let alone half a tonne of metal rolling over you…. Twice. Malloy wasn’t seen for several days and was assumed dead. To the schemers' dismay, however, on the fifth day of Malloy being missing, he strolls into the bar, a light limp seemingly the only damage incurred from the incident. 

The schemers had had enough. So, one night, they carried Malloy’s unconscious body upstairs where they stuck a gas line in his mouth and wrapped his head in cloth. This finally did the trick and the schemers couldn’t wait to get that sweet insurance payout. However, everything backfired for the schemers when they stated that Malloy’s death was due to pneumonia. They failed to realise that an autopsy of the body would disprove this version of the story. Thus, the schemers were all sentenced to death for murder and fraud. 

Try not to surround yourself with fake bitches. And if you are one of those fake bitches, be careful when trying to take advantage of your “friends’” life as it might screw you over in unforeseen ways.