Ice Cube Man, Part 3.

Finally. I made the local news.

Area Struck By Vandalism

The secondary headline read: Car windows shattered by vandals

Vandals? As in more than one? I laughed.

The article went on to report that police have had absolutely no evidence to work with and no one has ever seen the perpetrator.

There’s a pat on the back for me.

Then the article said that anyone with information leading to the arrest of those responsible should call the crime tips hotline.


Right away, a chill ran up my spine. What have I done?

And why now do I feel remorse?

For years I have often seen that phone number mentioned in news articles of crimes involving criminals who got away with it, much to my annoyance. How dare they get away with murder? Why don’t they be a man and turn themselves in? Don’t they have a conscience? Or are they too stubborn to admit they’re human? Or are they that much of a monster?

Suddenly I felt scared, very scared. This was the very first time I had ever seen that phone number in an article about me.

People were going to be vigilant. They were now going to watch for me. That’s when I realized it was time to stop the attacks.


What about the houses I already hit?

And how many times do I need to remind myself that it’s not me! It’s the ice cubes, man!

Snap out of it. The ice cubes are gone. No one ever saw you. You’re good to go.

I couldn’t get that fact out of my mind, the fact that I was in fact responsible.

Ice cubes don’t break windows, people break windows. You did it. You’re the guilty one. Be a man and confess your crimes. Time to face the music.

But I couldn’t. It wasn’t me. It was all a dream, right?

Yeah, that’s it. That’s the ticket. It wasn’t me.

Then what are those black clothes doing on the floor?

And what about the ice cube trays?

If this whole thing is a dream, the trays should be in the freezer, loaded with ice cubes ready for use in your drinks.

So I strolled to the kitchen and on the way I saw the empty ice cube trays by the front door, just where I left them when I came home from attacking innocent cars and houses.

It’s you. You did it.

But I just didn’t want to believe it.

For the next several weeks, I lay low. I rarely left my house for fear of driving into a police trap. Surely I left something behind that gave me away. I can’t possibly be the perfect criminal.

But I kept my eyes on the news. Channel 5 did a report on my assault and clearly, my victims were furious at having to repair the damage themselves. One man was yelling, “I’m still waiting for those guys to fess up! How the hell can they live with themselves knowing they’re such a menace to society?”

I turned the TV off.

A few months later, my life reached a new low. I had finally found a job but I had such a hard time fulfilling its duties that I was fired. My unemployment claim was denied and I had absolutely no money coming in. Creditors attacked me on a daily basis and my utility services were disconnected for nonpayment. I lost my phone service, my car, my power and soon my house was the only thing I had left, and I hadn’t paid the mortgage. I knew it would be a matter of time before my house would be foreclosed.

I dreaded checking the mail each day, and when the foreclosure notice finally arrived, I went ballistic.

It was time to bring back Ice Cube Man.

Right then and there, in broad daylight, I began my assault. I simply ran outside to the street and began throwing ice cubes at the passing cars, many of them missing their moving targets but an occasional ice cube would score a hit, much to the ire of the car’s driver.

I was unstoppable. Not even the angry drivers who came running up to me with fists flying could stop me. I threw ice cubes at them as well.

Soon police cars arrived with siren lights flashing. Fresh targets. Too bad I was almost out of ice cubes.

I threw the last of my ice cubes at the police cars and let them arrest me. What was I to do anyway? Run for it? I was losing everything, including my mind. Nothing I could do now to reverse the situation.

Now I’m in jail. I have no regrets of my crimes and am already making plans to resume my alter ego’s life as Ice Cube Man. But then I have no way of making ice cubes. That will have to wait until I get out of prison.

And so I count down the days, eager to resume my role as the avenging Ice Cube Man. A lone man with nothing against a society that has everything. I have a score to settle when I get out of prison.

And the ice cubes, yes, will return.

Oh, will they return.

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