Quick and Painless: A Satirical Reimagining of the Invention of the Guillotine

April 5, 1792

April 5, 1792

My dearest, Lonnie,

This morning I went to Éttine's home and had a cup of tea along with a pleasant talk with his wife and father. 

This afternoon a killed a man convicted of owning a murderous goat.

Let's start with this morning.

Antoine informed us yesterday that we would have until noon to ourselves, considering he would be away at a meeting with some council. Éttine invited Anaïs, Romeo, and myself to his house. He said that his wife, Cele, had been missing the company of others. 

Anaïs was hesitant at first but eventually convinced herself to go. Accordingly, we left early in the morning. 

Romeo was too tired to talk. I carried him, while he sleepily wrapped his arms around my neck. Leaving me with only Anaïs to talk to. 

The walk was silent.

Éttine had a nice home. It was small, but I live in a closet, so he's doing better than I am. He lived with his wife, Cele, his father, and his newborn. The house consisted of two rooms, a bedroom, and a not bedroom, used for everything besides being a bedroom. Étinne's father likes to sleep under the stars, so I hear, and he has a cot outside. When it rains he sleeps on the floor of the not bedroom. 

Étinne's father is begging to get sick and die. The funny thing is, no one seems to care. 

"Papa, is the baby going to be there?" Romeo asked from my shoulder.

"Probably."

"Is she going to be asleep?"

"I don't know, Romeo."

"Can she be awake?"

"Maybe. I don't control her concesness."

"It would be cool if you did, though."

"I guess so."

Anaïs giggled. I shot her a look and she replied with, "What? He's cute."

We continued in silence until we reached their house. I set Romeo down on the doorstep, he still clutched my leg and held my hand, acting like he hadn't slept in ages.

"Papa?" Romeo whined.

"Yes, my love?"

"I don't want the baby to cry."

Éttine opened the door before I could tell Romeo that I don't control the baby's tears. He invited us in, letting us know there was water boiling for tea. 

Cele was sitting a chair, baby on her lap, awake and well. Romeo perked up, staring at the child, eyes wide and hand on his cheek. Cele smiled at him and he pressed farther into my leg. It's strange how he pretends to be shy.

Étinne's father was at the table, reading a pamphlet. He didn't look up to greet anyone and yet still managed to say, "Son, where are your manners, introduce the girl."

Étinne drew in a sharp huff, "Anaïs this is my father. Over in the chair is my lovely wife, Cele, and our daughter, Sophia. Cele, Papa, Soph, this is Anaïs."

Anaïs smiled delicately, "You have a beautiful home."

The affair went as you'd imagine: Étinne and I conversed, his father butting in when we became slightly political. Romeo stared at the baby until Cele offered to let him hold her. Anaïs was able to have a friendly talk with Cele, which was mostly just compliments and stories. 

After a few hours, we walked home and began to work. 

To my surprise, Dr. Guillotin showed up not long after, along with a man not much older than I am. The man was dirty and his skin was a greenish pale. He was introduced to me as, Luc Petit, and I was told to demonstrate the Louisette on him. 

We had never tried the contraption on a living person, only corpses and occasionally a puppy. This was going to be new. 

More importantly, I had never delivered a living person to the afterlife, only things I could eat and occasionally a puppy. This was going to be new.

Eventually, Guillotin and Antoine went inside for a drink and left me to prepare the machine. They left me with Luc an execution device, and nothing else. But Luc was calm. He stood in front of the Louisette staring at the blade. 

"Remarkable," he breathed awkwardly.

Unsure I heard him right I asked, "Pardon?"

He looked at me smiling, "The machine, it's remarkable. I've heard that Antoine Louis was a genius but to this caliber... It's just remarkable."

"You're not scared," I asked. 

He smiled again, "Not in the slightest. I'm excited in fact, giddy."

"Strange," I replied, "Do explain?"

"Well," he said, "If it weren't for you and Guillotin and Louis than I would be having my neck hacked at by an ax right about now. I would feel everything. If this works the way I'm told it will, I won't feel I thing. I'll just be gone and that will be all."

Interesting. I never thought I'd meet someone who was excited to die. I've met people who don't care if they die, I've been that person. I've met people who don't take precautions to stay alive, like Étinne's father. I've also met people who drink so much they accidentally kill themselves, but never someone excited to be executed.

I suppose it was better for me to have that knowledge. It takes the guilt away.

"What did you do?" I asked out of curiosity. 

"To get sentenced?" Luc confirmed, "I owned a goat that somehow got loose and killed a small child. I didn't feel sorry for the kid, they deserved it, but they made me shoot my goat. That was unfair."

"I see."

That's when the Doctors arrived, only slightly drunk.

"Are you ready to die the most glorious death, Luc?" Guillotin asked.

"Oui! Am I ever?" Luc said as he basically hopped on to the table, laying his head in the hole and smiling like a child. 

Antoine waved his hand, "Andreas, do the honors."

I stood next to Luc and placed a shaking hand on the lever. 

"Any last words?" I asked. 

"I hadn't thought of that. I guess not." 

I was about the pull the lever when Guillotin shouted, "Hey, Luc, what do they call this thing on the streets?"

Luc smiled, "The Guillotine, sir, and I'm honored to be the first to die at his hands"

Antoine's mouth hung open. I guess the Louisette is no longer the Louisette.

"Pull the lever!" he shouted. 

Luc's head came straight off. A clean, painless cut. 

His bodiless head was still smiling in the basket. Guillotin took it home with him as a suvioner. 

Perhaps, the decapitation machine has more potential than just killing. It was a happy death for Luc and a form of entertainment for Guillontin and Antoine. 

It was remarkable.

With love,

Andreas Moreau

P.S. 

France is mad at England again. If we weren't tearing ourselves apart, I would prepare for another war. 

Learning English will be harder than I imagined.