On the magazines, in the articles in the paper, on the news … they’re everywhere.

Everyone knows someone who is perfect. It’s one of those weird things. “She is so good at anything she does” or “Well, that’s not surprising. Everyone knows Gary is “perfect” after all”. And it’s true, sometimes. Many of them become famous, and rich. Because they’re perfect and because they can. They’re not celebrities though, not most of them – the Perfect People don’t end up in the tabloids because they do no wrong.

I’m sure you know someone like that. The kind of person who sees setbacks as opportunities and never has any real problems. Sure, they have some bad luck, but things always turn out better than right, in the end. And, of course, someone else out there doesn’t have the breaks, never meets the right person at the right time – because they get all the really bad luck the Perfect Person should have. It’s like them proxies, but it’s all unconscious. Like, you ever hear of soul mates? Well, this is a karma mate, or something like that. Most people never find out they’re linked to a Perfect Person. But some do. Oh, yeah, baby. Some do.

What would you do if you found out your life sucked and it was all their fault? They might not have meant it, but you found out, and you’re not perfect, so they damn well could have. Killing them won’t solve matters, but there is a way, a ritual that evens the scales out on the bastard that took away all your chances.

All you need to do is find a frying pan with no-stick Teflon. And burn it. Cook bacon in it, anything greasy of slimy, and scrape off the Teflon when you clean it. Eventually, it won’t be any good – everything will stick to it. You’ll know it when the time comes. Then you need to find a picture of the Perfect Person who took all your chances, and put it in the pan. And cook it, on medium heat. Make it simmer. Once the picture is gone and blackened right to the pan and won’t come off, you mail it to a tabloid. Any of ’em. From the address of the Perfect Person. As long as someone opens it there (The Weekly World News is best for this) the Perfect Person gets written up in it, and then in other tabloids.

And there life starts to fall apart. It’s a slow thing, but they stop being Perfect , and you’re life gets better. And better. And some even say that if you burn some other pans the same way – no need to send ’em, just to burn them up – it happens faster and faster. And if the pans cost enough, if the picture was important enough, if you destroy enough – things Change. Your life becomes the Perfect one.

And all you need to do is make sure some poor sap can’t afford some frying pans ….