extenuate
[ ik-sten-yoo-eyt ]
verb (used with object), ex·ten·u·at·ed, ex·ten·u·at·ing.
to represent (a fault, offense, etc.) as less serious: to extenuate a crime.
to serve to make (a fault, offense, etc.) seem less serious.
to underestimate, underrate, or make light of: Do not extenuate the difficulties we are in.
Archaic.
- to make thin, lean, or emaciated.
- to reduce the consistency or density of.
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Gary was
surprised to see his new cell mate. The
guy was a lot smaller than he thought.
Thin, short, no tattoos. He was
nothing TV had told him to expect from prison life. Still, he could not underestimate the
man.
“Hey.”
Said the man. “Name’s Danny.”
“Gary. Nice to meet you.”
“What
are you in for?”
“Nothing
special. Just a bit of burglary. You?”
Danny
sighed heavily. “I shouldn’t be in here,
not really. My crime wasn’t that
bad. I mean, nobody got hurt. Well, nobody important anyway.”
Gary
blinked in surprise. It sounded like he
claimed he was innocent. Kind of? He did the crime, but it was nothing wrong,
maybe.
“So,
what was it?” He asked again.
“Nothing,
really. Hell, if anything, I made the
world a better place. I mean, come on,
life sentence? That’s bull. They should’ve thrown me a parade is what
they should’ve done. Not a big one, of
course, but still.”
“So, what,
assault and battery?” Gary tried. But
no, he said nobody had gotten hurt. “Maybe
burglary?”
“Nah. I cleaned up the world.”
Gary
thought about it for a moment. “What, in
the Boy Scout way, or the Sopranos way?”
“Technically
the second, but, really, the overall effect was closer to the first.”
“Ah. So, murder than.”
“That’s
what the courts called it. I disagree,
but whatever.”
Gary was
much more warry of the small man now. A
murderer was always a dangerous person, no matter what he looked like. In fact, his size might make him more
dangerous. A large man you knew to be
careful around. But a small one could
make you forget how dangerous he is.
“Who, uh, who’d you kill, if you
don’t mind my asking.”
“Bunch of corrupt, worthless,
horrible politicians. Seriously, guys
were a waste of space and resources. No
merit to society at all. They were leeches. Parasites sucking away at us good, regular
people and giving nothing back. So yeah,
by removing them, I did everyone a favor.
Sure, they may have been small time, but they were growing. Pretty soon, they could’ve made it to the
Senate or the House. They could’ve done
some real damage there. I prevented
that. I saved us from their terrible
policies, corrupt dealings and a whole mess of headache later on. If anything, I’m a hero.”
“I guess the courts thought
otherwise, huh?”
Danny sat on one of the thin beds
and leaned against the cold stone wall. “Bunch
of short-sighted idiots.” He said. “Everyone
who knew those guys thought I did what had to be done. But nope, apparently murdering corrupt
politicians is just as bad as murdering anyone else. So, what about you? What’d you steal to get put in here?”
“Meh, nothing special. A few paintings, some jewelry. The usual, you know. Hell, the people I stole from probably wouldn’t
have noticed they were missing if they hadn’t come home at the worst possible
time.”
“That sucks.”
“Yeah, well. It was all just junk lying around their house
anyway. Didn’t seem like stuff that’d be
worth $5 million when I grabbed them, that’s for sure.”
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I really shouldn't need to say this, but killing people and stealing things are bad. Don't do it. Just, you know, don't.
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