Something REALLY Rotten

Dick Cheney's gun rested, smoking, in his hands. The quail had fled at the sound of the gunshot. Dick coughed with confusion, then muttered an expletive under his breath. One moment he had seen the quail, and he pulled the trigger to shoot at it and... 

"Alright we got Dick Cheney," they said triumphantly as they stepped over Dick's dead body. "Now we just gotta kill Hamilton's Dad!" Roscoe and Gilbert reloaded their guns, threw them back over their shoulders, and proceeded to drag Dick's body towards the stream, at the bottom of a steep and treacherous cliff. With a tremendous heave they tossed the body over the cliff. 

"CRAP!" They both exclaimed, at the exact same time. Their guns had gotten tangled up in the body and thrown down into the stream with it. 

"I guess we'll have to use poison," said Roscoe. 

"I guess we'll just have to use poison," said Gilbert. 

"I just said that, what the Hell!" said Roscoe.

"No, I added a 'just' before 'have to use poison'," replied Gilbert, "It made it better." 

"You know what Gilbert, you are just downright annoying sometimes!" Roscoe shouted indignantly. 

"You know what Rosceo, that is... NOT the point. The point is, we need to go kill Hamilton's dad."

"Wait," Roscoe thought for a moment, "Why are we killing Hamilton's dad? Like, what's the point?"

"Um..." Gilbert paused. Then he said, "Because then they would find out about it in the 4th act of the play!"

"Oh that makes sense. its all about that play... That's what they paid us for."

"Roscoe, you're an idiot. They're not paying us a dime."

"WHAT? Why? That's ridiculous! What, we're just gonna kill him for free? What do we get out of it?" Roscoe was outraged. 

"No Roscoe, its genius. See, we're suspects in the play. Everyone would suspect that they paid us to do this. so if they don't pay us, they'll NEVER know! We will TOTALLY get away with it!"

"But then what's the point of killing him?" Roscoe was still unsure. 

Gilbert cleared his throat. "Roscoe, you ever heard people be like, 'Man I would KILL for some Italian food!'?" 

"Um..."

"Hamilton's mom is cooking us some Italian food. She invited us for dinner. We are literally , killing for some Italian food. Personally, I think its brilliant. No, scratch me thinking it. It IS brilliant. 

"Gilbert why the hell would she want her husband dead?"

"She hates his guts."

"Oh." Roscoe's outrage was satisfied. "So how are we gonna kill him?"

"Hold on." Gilbert's phone rang. It was the Super Mario Brothers theme song. He answered it. "Hello? Yeah. Yeah. Yeah, Dick's dead and we're about to kill Rex. Poison. Yeah. Yeah. Yeah, alright. Alright. Yeah, alright, we'll call you when its done. We're almost at your house. Alright. Alright, bye." He hung up.

"Alright Roscoe, lets go." They walked up to Hamilton's house. his dad was outside. 

"Hey Rex, try some of this moonshine. We brewed it ourselves. Its delicious!"

"Um... Ok." He drank it. After a while, he died, of poison. They rang the doorbell. 

"Now lets go eat some ITALIAN FOOD!"