Napoleon Dynamite had always been an outcast. He never quite fit in with the other kids at school, and his family life was just as strange.

His older brother Kip spent all day chatting up girls online, while his Uncle Rico was still trying to relive his glory days as a high school football star. But Napoleon had a secret, a dark secret that he kept hidden from everyone else: he had a taste for murder.

It started small, with a bully at school who had been tormenting him for weeks. Napoleon lured the bully into the school bathroom and locked the door behind them.

Napoleon had had enough of Brock Zen's taunts and jabs. He had planned it all out carefully, waiting until the school was empty and the halls were silent. He lured Brock into the bathroom with promises of a truce, then locked the door behind them.

Brock, a big and beefy guy who had tormented Napoleon for weeks, looked confused and scared as he realized what was happening.

"What the heck, Dynamite?" he growled. "What are you doing?"

Napoleon felt a rush of adrenaline as he pulled out the weapon he had hidden in his backpack. It was a plastic spoon, sharpened to a point, but to Napoleon, it felt like a deadly weapon. "I'm sorry it has to end like this," he said, trying to sound menacing.

Brock looked at the spoon and started to laugh. "What are you gonna do, tickle me to death?" he sneered.

Napoleon's heart raced as he lunged at the bully with the spoon. But Brock was quick, and he managed to grab Napoleon's wrist and twist it, causing the spoon to fly out of his hand and clatter to the floor. Napoleon stumbled backwards, tripping over his own feet, and fell against the sink, hitting his head hard.

For a moment, everything was still. Napoleon lay on the ground, dazed and confused, while Brock stood over him, panting and angry. "You're a freak, Dynamite," he spat. "You'll never be anything but a freak."

And then, something strange happened. Brock's expression changed, as if he had suddenly realized something. He leaned down and whispered in Napoleon's ear. "You know what? You're right. I am a bully. And I'm sorry. I don't know what's wrong with me. I'm going to change, I swear."

Napoleon blinked, unsure if he had heard correctly. But as he looked up, he saw Brock's face change again, this time into a sinister grin. "Just kidding, loser," he said, and kicked Napoleon hard in the stomach. Napoleon doubled over in pain, and the next thing he knew, the bully was gone.

When Napoleon finally got up, he felt a strange mix of disappointment and relief. He had failed at his first attempt at murder, but at least the bully was gone. And as he looked down at the spoon on the floor, he couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of it all.

Napoleon had become obsessed with the idea of getting rid of all the people who annoyed him. He had made a list of names and had been planning his revenge for weeks. His latest target was a girl in his class named Stacy, who had teased him about his acne and his love of Liger memes.

He had followed Stacy home from school, hiding behind bushes and keeping a safe distance. He watched her go inside her house, and then he made his move. He sneaked around the side of the house and climbed up to her window. He had brought his plastic spoon with him, determined to make it work this time.

As he peered inside the window, he saw Stacy sitting at her desk, typing away on her computer. She looked so oblivious, so smug, and Napoleon felt a surge of anger. This was it, he thought. He was finally going to do it.
He raised his spoon and tapped on the window, trying to make a menacing sound. But the sound was more like a weak, tentative tap, and Stacy didn't even notice. Napoleon tried again, this time a little louder, but he only succeeded in making a scratch on the glass.

He started to panic. What if he couldn't break the window? What if he got caught? He felt a bead of sweat run down his forehead, and he wiped it away with his sleeve.

Suddenly, the window opened, and Stacy looked out, frowning. "What the heck, Napoleon? What are you doing here?" she said, her voice tinged with annoyance.

Napoleon froze. He hadn't expected her to open the window. He had no plan for what to say next. "Uh... I'm here to... uh... talk to you," he stammered.

Stacy rolled her eyes. "Talk to me about what?" she said, crossing her arms.

Napoleon's mind went blank. He couldn't remember why he had come here in the first place. "Uh... your... your computer. I... I wanted to see your... your computer," he blurted out.

Stacy looked at him like he was crazy. "You wanted to see my computer?" she said, incredulous.

Napoleon nodded, feeling more awkward by the second. "Yeah. I wanted to... to ask you... if you... if you have any... Liger memes."

Stacy looked at him for a long moment, and then she burst out laughing. "You're such a weirdo, Napoleon," she said, shaking her head. "But I guess you can come in and see my memes. Just don't break anything."

Napoleon felt a wave of relief wash over him. He had completely bumbled his attempt at murder, but at least he had avoided getting caught. As he climbed through the window, he couldn't help but think that maybe, just maybe, he and Stacy could become friends.

Over the next few weeks, Napoleon continued his attempted killing spree in secret. He targeted people who had wronged him or made fun of him, people who he felt deserved to die. Each time, he carefully plotted new ways to make it look like an accident or a suicide. He was careful, meticulous, and above all, completely ruthless.

First, he simmered with jealousy of Deb because of the unexpected success of her online business. He decided he would murder her so that he could take over her business.

He took great pains, and nearly sweated to death, digging a hole next to the road, way out in the middle of nowhere. Even further out in the middle of nowhere than he usually always went. He dug the hole, covered it with branches, and then returned to town to invite Deb for a walk. She wondered why he was so disgustingly dirty, but nothing was particularly surprising with Napoleon, so she simply disregarded his stench and accepted his offer for the walk.

As the hole he knew was there loomed just ahead, his heart began to race. The excitement pulsed through his veins.

Unfortunately, when he lunged to push Deb into the hole, he missed her and instead, he plummeted into the hole.

"GOOOOOOOSSSSSH!" Napoleon shrieked as he fell.

Deb was very kind and compassionate as she helped him out of the hole and he basically forgave her for her untimely success and decided he would start work on a portrait of her that evening.

Days later, Napoleon became plagued with the idea that his best bud Pedro was staging a secret coup to overthrow his hard earned position as class president. Obviously, Pedro had to die.

Napoleon carefully rigged up what he would've thought would be a fool proof booby trap consisting of live wires and a mop bucket of water in the backstage area at school.

Unfortunately, it wasn't completely foolproof, as Napoleon managed to electrocute himself instead of Pedro. In fact, it was a darn good thing Pedro was there to save him or he might have ended up with more problems than just an arm that was numb for six hours.

About a week later, Napoleon began to notice Rex Kwon Do was using some new martial arts moves that looked pretty familiar. They were HIS moves. He was certain that the outspoken martial arts master was ripping off his own signature moves, and he couldn't stand for it.

He borrowed his Uncle Rico's rifle and posted up on top of the Piggly Wiggly across the street from the dojo planning to take the cocky jerk out as soon as he came out the front door in his ridiculous American flag pants. Hadn't Rex ever heard of a little thing called a FLAG VIOLATION?

Just another reason the idiot had to die.

Napoleon's chance came soon enough and he took the shot. Unfortunately, instead of making it to his intended target, the bullet was intercepted by the fat lard of a turkey ambling across the dusty road. The turkey died, but not before running around insanely, shrieking and flapping. It caused a car to veer off the road and run into a bank of shopping carts with a deafening crunch.

Napoleon slid backwards and army crawled off the roof, leaving behind Uncle Rico's rifle in his hope to get away undetected.

Speaking of Uncle Rico, Napoleon finally had enough of listening to him talk about his football exploits and eating all the good steak. He was growing more confident in his murder skills, and decided to concoct a sandwich of delicious ham and an assortment of household cleaners.

Unfortunately, when he presented the sandwich to Uncle Rico, he simply laughed and chucked the sandwich to the llama, Tina. Napoleon's heart leapt into his throat as he watched the beloved family pet happily lap up every bite of the sandwich. He didn't want her to eat it, but what could he do without revealing his secret? She honked and hawed as she finished it and Napoleon tried not to cry. It was a tense few days after that, watching Tina expecting her to drop dead at any moment.

After a week, she was still alive and he decided she would hopefully live.

He vowed never to body shame her again after that incident.

After another week, Napoleon was getting ready to attempt another murder. He was plotting out a plan to kill his brother Kip, when he heard a knock on the door. Peeking through the peephole, he saw two police officers standing on his porch. His heart skipped a beat. He began to sweat profusely. Had they figured out what he was up to?

He nervously opened the door, trying to appear casual. "Uh, hi officers. What brings you here?" he asked.

The first officer spoke up. "We're looking for a suspect in a string of petty thefts in the area. We've received reports of some suspicious activity around this house, so we just wanted to ask you a few questions."

Napoleon blinked repeatedly and shoved his wire glasses up his sweaty nose. "I don't even have any good skills. You know, like nunchuck skills, bow hunting skills, computer hacking skills."

The officers exchanged a glance and then frowned at Napoleon. "Son, we're not accusing you of anything. We'd simply like to have a look around if you don't mind."

Somewhere inside his mind, alarm bells began to go off. He was worried they'd find his Nunchucks and become suspicious... If they weren't already. But like an idiot, he simply stepped aside and let them in.

The officers began to search the house, while Napoleon tried to keep his cool. But huge pit stains developed under his armpits and now his nose had begun to run in addition to the sweat that had caused his curls to stick to his forehead. He couldn't let them find any evidence of his murder attempts.

Soon, the officers were about to leave. The first officer turned to Napoleon. "Listen, son. I know this might be tough for you, but if you know anything about these thefts, it's important that you come forward. We're here to help you, not to accuse you of anything."

Napoleon felt a pang of guilt. He almost blurted out everything he had done, but he managed to stop himself just in time. "Thanks, officers. I'll keep that in mind."

The officers left, and Napoleon let out a sigh of relief. He realized how lucky he had been. Although he knew he was an impeccable attempted murderer, who made practically perfect plans, he realized he could have ended up in serious trouble if the police had caught wind of what he was doing.

From that day on, Napoleon decided to give up his murderous ways and focus on something more positive, like spending more time with Tina or perfecting his dance moves. He still wished he could murder every idiot he came across, but at the end of the day, he just didn't like the pressure. Didn't care for the heat.
It wasn't exactly the outcome he had hoped for, but at least he could sleep soundly knowing that he wasn't going to prison for attempted murder.