I thought it would be in bad taste to kill him in the library. I know a lot of the best literature is about betrayal, jealousy and murder, but it just seemed wrong in our case. After all, getting het up about whether or not the Eagles is a band worth listening to, let alone playing them at our wedding hardly seemed like high drama. Killing in the library should be reserved for debates about who wrote that body of work attributed to Shakespeare, or whether or not we should read Philip Larkin, or whether one can appreciate both Ted Hughes and Sylvia Plath.
Perhaps I’ll lure him into the kitchen.