A Contrast of Personalities

This piece emerged from a writing exercise exploring extremes through repetition. The challenge was to begin each sentence with the same phrase, crafting one ‘good,’ one ‘bad,’ and one blending both into a complex narrative with a backstory.

Alvin is the kind of person who always pees in the shower. Alvin is the kind of person who swears in front of children. Alvin is the kind of person who punches monkeys. Alvin is the kind of person who shits in the woods. Alvin is the kind of person who licks engine oil. Alvin is the kind of person who always runs red lights. Alvin is the kind of person who has road rage. Alvin is the kind of person who votes for Trump. Alvin is the kind of person who loves being misogynistic, racist, homophobic, and transphobic. Alvin is the kind of person who draws swastikas. Alvin is the kind of person who doesn’t wear a condom and spreads STDs. Alvin is the kind of person they call a deadbeat dad. Alvin is the kind of person who cheated his ex-wife out of their house.

Mandy is the kind of person who whispers sweet nothings in your ear. Mandy is the kind of person who makes cut-out heart sandwiches. Mandy is the kind of person who puts six spoonfuls of sugar in her coffee. Mandy is the kind of person who mows your lawn and spells “I love you” in the grass. Mandy is the kind of person who jumps on the mic to declare her love for you to everyone in the room. Mandy always canvases in Pennsylvania during election time. Mandy always jumps in front of danger to protect you. Mandy is the kind of person who writes handwritten letters to everyone in her address book every Saturday night. Mandy is the kind of person who dresses up at parties.

Sandy is the kind of person who sneaks into a different movie—and then pays it forward. Sandy is the kind of person who sings loudly during movies—and buys popcorn for everyone in her row. Sandy is the kind of person who stiffs the cab driver—and tips the barista generously. Sandy is the kind of person who crosses the street outside the crosswalk—and always thanks drivers for stopping. Sandy is the kind of person who steals candy at the counter—and buys a newspaper to stay informed. Sandy is the kind of person who tells you to mind your fucking business—and massages your shoulders. Sandy is the kind of person who pays her bills late—and checks on her elderly neighbor. Sandy is the kind of person who drives through the yard after it rains, leaving deep muddy tracks—and makes you breakfast in bed. Sandy is the kind of person who cheats at Pinochle—and brings all the snacks. Sandy is the kind of person who unleashes rats in her enemies’ basements—and takes your dogs for a walk. Sandy is the kind of person who sues you—and covers your attorney’s fees. Sandy is the kind of person who burns the grilled cheese—and scrapes off the burnt bits.

Sandy had a terrible temper, but she always felt guilty. Her instincts told her to do something bad, but she always balanced it out. One day, the rat situation got out of hand. It took over her entire house and then the town. The town exterminator had to pull in help from neighboring areas, and in the end, they had to burn the entire town to the ground.

Why was Sandy like this? As a child, Sandy was kept in a cage in her parents’ home. They whipped her every time she made a mistake. She spent 1,000 days in that cage, marking each one on the wall until she was finally rescued. When the police took her parents away in handcuffs, Sandy told the officer, “Thank you very much. You rescued me. I’m very grateful.”

Her foster family tried to help her through intensive therapy, but it was too late. The trauma had rewired her. Sandy was manipulative. She never got caught, and someone else always took the blame. Sandy would watch and snicker before doing something kind to alleviate her guilt.

Eventually, Sandy became the CEO of a health insurance company. She denied coverage, causing people to spiral into medical debt and bankruptcy. But then she would write each of them a letter, full of kind words about how much she cared. When AI came into play, Sandy was particularly thrilled. The algorithms had a 90% error rate with denials, which maximized her profit. With that extra profit, Sandy built a morgue.