The Parable of the Gunman in the Mall

One day while teaching, Josh was asked, ”If everyone everywhere has a gun, how do we choose who to shoot and when?”

Josh spoke thus:

A gunman was sitting in a food court in a mall, drinking a diet drink.  The gunman was waiting for the proper moment to shoot.

This was not the first mall the gunman had gone to this day.  This was not the first food court in which the gunman had sat.  This was not the gunman’s first diet drink of the morning.

The gunman looked at the different foods on offer in the food court.  There were hamburgers and pizza for sale, of course, along with cookies (there were two cookie vendors) and soft pretzels.  The gunman had thought soft pretzels had gone out of vogue, but the hot pretzels appeared to be selling well.  There was Chinese food.  There was even a kabob stall.  Since when, the gunman wondered, had mall food turned Muslim?

The gunman was impatient.  When, the gunman wondered, would it be time to shoot?

The gunman had thought that early in the morning would have been a good time to shoot, but the gunman had been mistaken.  The gunman had been in a department store.  The store had been part of a large national chain.  There was a store in that chain in this mall also, as there had been in the two other malls the gunman had visited that day.  

The gunman was a little sick of malls, the gunman had to admit to himself.

The gunman was sure, however, that the shooting would have to occur in a mall.  The difficulty was determining in which mall the shooting would occur.

The gunman thought about how often the people who went shooting crazy were “normal,” “unobtrusive,” “nondescript.”  The gunman thought about how banal so many locations were.  Government offices.  Schools.  Movie theaters.  And what was more banal than a mall?  The shooting had to be in a mall.

The gunman looked at the people in the food court.  These people were normal, were unobtrusive, were nondescript.  The gunman thought of himself as normal, unobtrusive, nondescript.

The gunman watched a particularly normal, unobtrusive, nondescript person approach a fast-food stall.  This person was stereotypically normal, stereotypically unobtrusive, stereotypically nondescript.  This person, the gunman decided, was overly normal, overly unobtrusive, overly nondescript.

It was time, the gunman decided, it was the moment for which the gunman had been waiting.

The gunman stood and pointed his gun at the overly normal, overly unobtrusive, overly nondescript person.  The gunman was surprised to see the overly normal, overly unobtrusive, overly nondescript person pointing a gun at the gunman.

“Dad?” the gunman asked.

“Son?” the overly normal, overly unobtrusive, overly nondescript person asked.

The gunman and the gunman’s father lowered their guns, laughing.

“I thought you were too normal!” the gunman said.

“I thought you were too unobtrusive!” the gunman’s father said.

“You taught me well!” the gunman said.

“The student has surpassed the teacher!” the gunman’s father said.

The gunman and the gunman’s father spied a third person with a gun in the food court.  The third person was pointing his gun at the gunman and gunman’s father.

“Nondescript,” the gunman and the gunman’s father agreed as the third person with a gun opened fire.