The man ran to catch his flight to Japan.

The man ran to catch his flight to Japan. He was having trouble remembering why he was going to japan, or who he even was! But one look into his carry-on helped his remember...

but only slightly. As he glanced into his carry-on, he struggled to remember why he had so much rope. In fact, he'd never seen so much rope in his life. Why was he going to Japan?

As he inspected the rope, he found traces of blood on one end. Memories began to swirl, clouds started to lift from his mind. His brother was in Okinawa, at the Marine base with

a rope around his neck. He'd always been connected to his brother like this. Always knew when there was trouble. He picked up a phone and bought tickets to Japan on the way to

to the bathroom. The roped wasn't long enough to reach under the stall so they had to do their thing together. One at a time. They'd coordinated their meal content so they'd stink

but unfortunately they stank so bad that they died of their own stench and nobody ever figured out what the hell they were trying to do. That is, until

they were dead at which point the bad smell combined with putrefaction resulted in a taste many gourmets found to rivaled that of

last-place finisher cooked the very same pickled skunk cabbage and Limburger cheese impossible pie. I'd like my chances. Besides, I'd have a trick up my sleeve:

A neutron bomb. "Crown me champion and I won't blow up the--" and then my finger slipped.