Sometimes, when a waiter ignores me or when a housewife in a sport utility vehicle cuts me off, I imagine that I have been kidnapped and beaten by a group of henchmen until the head lackey grudgingly admits that he has never seen a man take such a pummeling. He frees me and we garrote his boss, the effete kingpin of a drug empire. We assume control, increase territory, and double profits. We yacht around the world, leaving broken bodies and broken hearts in our wake. One morning, I sip cognac in my study while my unsuspecting comrade is machine-gunned in his master bathroom. I branch out, bankrolling the dictator of a small Latin American country. My country invades two neighboring nations. After the dictator’s assassination, I assume the presidency and pursue nuclear weapons. The U.S. President declares that I must step down or troops will storm my city at dawn. Instead, I hold a private screening of Charlie Chaplin films for my mistresses. When the sentinels alert me that commandos have breached my compound’s perimeter, I retire to my safe room, rub my Doberman’s belly, and use an antique Luger to fire one perfect shot through my right temple.