Benjamin P. Dover

Benjamin Dover was an asshole. Not just “kind of an asshole,” and not someone who “could be an asshole.” He was a full-on, 24/7, 100% asshole. When he came out of the womb, he screamed and kicked, his constant needs never - ever - met quickly enough. A hateful personality already in existence, the nurses looked at each other, shaking their heads. “What a little asshole,” one tsk-tsk’d to the other. So….Ben Dover was an asshole: always had been, always would be. That is, until someone decided the world had tolerated ‘ole Ben long enough.

Ben went through his school years as what’s commonly known as a bully. He beat kids up, took their things, and generally made the lives of his classmates miserable. A teacher, Ms. Green, attempted to redirect him in the 5th grade and came out to find her tires slashed. The next year she opened her mailbox to the sight of a gruesomely dead opossum. Four years later, drugs were found in her desk and she was forced to resign, losing her health insurance and her pension. While nothing could be proven, it was generally believed that Ben was the culprit.

Susie Sweeten made the mistake of turning Ben down as a date to the junior prom. A few weeks later, she found out her name was scrawled all over the Boys’ Bathroom walls, accompanied by her phone number and “for a good time call…” A year later she was forced to change schools amidst false rumors of her promiscuity with any number of people- including teachers. Over the years, Ben became fluent in the languages of slander and intimidation. Is it any wonder he pursued a career in Corporate Law?

In his biggest case, Attorney Ben Dover was able to protect the Oil and Gas company that had poisoned hundreds of people - and lots of wildlife too - from neglectful disposal of their waste. A company that doesn’t care about the lives of children and animals certainly can’t be bothered to follow pesky rules to keep the environment clean. As he left the courtroom, John Shepherd verbally berated Ben, shouting at the loss of his beloved wife and son to toxic carcinogens, caused by the attorney's clients. Shepherd threatened that one day Ben would “get what’s coming” to him. The threats rolled off Ben like water off one of the ducks covered in his client’s oil. Money and power had made him untouchable.

Ben journeyed through life, leaving a wake of destruction in his path. His long-suffering but kind-hearted wife, Hope, walked on eggshells. Was dinner made correctly? Were the clothes he wanted to wear washed and ready? Had she spent too much time focused on her own life that day? Her one diversion was her beloved rescue cat, Jinx. All black, he was sleek and adored her, and caring for him helped give some purpose and meaning to her life. Because she loved Jinx, he was frequently the target of Ben’s wrath. Outright aggression by kicking or throwing things at Jinx was coupled with Ben’s specialty: covert acts of harm including taking away the water or food when Hope wasn’t looking. Whenever Ben was nearby, Jinx took refuge under the bed. The only family pet Ben cared for was the Boa Constrictor, Con, kept in a 100 gallon tank in the basement. It’s hard not to like an animal that shares your emotionless world view that others are there only to fulfill your needs.

Benny Jr. (because said-son needed to know right from birth that he was just an extension, only there to please his father) awaited the day he would be old - and strong - enough to take on the man he commonly referred to as “my asshole of a dad.” Benny just wasn’t what his dad had hoped for - and he was reminded of it daily. Ben Sr. lived by the motto “Spare the rod, Spoil the child.” He let his son know that the minute he graduated high school, he would need to find someplace else to live, and his own means of support. The day he turned eighteen, he started collecting weapons he could potentially use to defend against asshole-dad’s wrath. Knives, a handgun and a package of rat poison were hidden in the bottom dresser drawer. Benny Jr. spent a good amount of time figuring out the ratio of rat poison to his dad’s weight. That’s a calculation you just don’t want to get wrong.

Rounding out the trainwreck of Ben’s life, his 21-year-old mistress Destiny was a paralegal intern at his firm. He dumped her via text after ruining her reputation by sending nude photos of her to everyone at the firm, and trashing her on social media. He was careful exactly how far to go (he was an attorney, after all) without any potential consequences for himself. Destiny was young, but she wasn’t stupid. She knew exactly why she had been blacklisted at the firm.

At the age of 40, there was no disputing that Ben was, clearly, still an asshole. Unfortunately for him, what goes around really does come around, and the universe has a way of saying “Well, that’s just about enough of that.” One night, while his wife was out on an animal rescue mission and Benny Jr. was God-Knows-Where (probably playing video games with one of his geek friends, Ben scoffed), he knocked off a few too many Jack Daniels and Cokes, falling asleep in the movie theater of his basement. At first, he barely felt the hug, and then he thought drunkenly, “I thought I dumped Destiny. How’d she get in here?” The hug tightened and before “ole Ben could comprehend what was going on, he was in the full embrace of Con, who never really liked Ben anyway. Con may be a snake, but he’s not an asshole.

The newspapers and social media reported the mystery of Ben’s death: how had Con escaped his tank? Speculation was rampant - rumor had it the door to the walkout basement was found unlocked after Ben died. Anyone could have come in and helped Con out of his tank and the snake’s skin, recently shed, was nowhere to be found, indicating someone had cleaned it up. But since no one ever really liked Ben - and he wasn’t really going to be missed - the police didn’t spend too much time investigating. After all, there were still lots of lawyers out there waiting to defend big corporations. Ms. Green, Susie Sweeten, John Shepherd, Destiny, Hope and Benny Jr. all gathered at the memorial. It was a small town and some of them had been waiting for this day for a long, long time. But just exactly how did the top get knocked - or taken - off of Con’s tank?

The night after the memorial, Hope laid in bed contemplating possibilities that lay before her. Ben’s hefty life insurance policy created opportunities she never could have imagined. Maybe she and Benny Jr. would move someplace tropical. Or she could open her own animal rescue, she thought, smiling. Next to her, Hope’s beloved kitty Jinx purred and snuggled her, cleaning molted snakeskin pieces off of his paws….