Stanley is at the funeral by himself, speaking to the body of the Judge who sent him to jail.
Guess who! Well, don’t you look just like yourself? Don’t you though, your honor? Dead. You can’t imagine how safe I feel. ‘Course, I had a lotta time to think about it while I was in reform school. That’s about all I can say for Gatesville. Plenty of time to think. Yeah, Judge, I had to nuzzle up to that homely housekeeper of yours. Yolanda. She thought I was in love. Oh, I kept it up ’til I got me a copy of all her keys. And I got all my information bit by bit. Ya know, like her schedule and your schedule and that one hour- that one hour on Wednesday morning when you were all alone. When she went out to buy groceries. Yeah, I found out about that, and I set you up. I just parked across from the Piggly Wiggly and waited. And when I seen Yolanda go into that store, I done a beeline to your house. Drove right up the curvin’ driveway. Walked right through the goddamned front door, right up the stairs to your bedroom. And all you could do was lay there on your half-paralyzed ass and stare, but you knew what I was there for, didn’t you? You knew! Man, it was hell gettin’ you into that swimsuit! It was worth it. But you wanna know what my favorite part was? Huh? You wanna know what my favorite part was, your honor? It was when I pulled out that syringe, and you started pleading with me. You pleading with me! And all it took to finish you off was a few air bubbles, right in the vein. . . just a few little air bubbles – stroke! I guess we’re even. Then why don’t I feel like it, huh? You know, someday, after my mama’s dead, I may just turn myself in. Won’t everybody be surprised? Oh, I can hear ’em now: “Why, who would have thought Stanley Bumiller would have the brains to pull that off?” Sheee. . .