This story from Listverse is about an ol' boy that must have had one heck of a constitution, plus a real desire to live. Did a pretty good job of for a while, that's for sure!
Michael Malloy was a homeless alcoholic who lived in New York City during the 1920s–1930s. He had no known family and nothing would be thought of his sudden demise, leading five men to come up with a cunning plan. The men, dubbed The Murder Trust conspired to take out a life insurance policy on Malloy. They then planned to kill him in order to collect the money. Their method of murder was inspired by Malloy’s alcoholism: let him drink himself to death.
One of the involved men owned a speakeasy, so he gave Michael unlimited credit to drink to his heart’s desire, hoping he would quickly die of his indulgences. But Malloy continued to pound drinks back for the entire working day, every day. Noticing that Malloy hadn’t yet succumbed to his own alcoholism, the Trust began to add secret ingredients to his beverages. First, they added antifreeze, which Malloy didn’t even notice. Next they tried turpentine, horse liniment, and rat poison, all of which failed to affect Malloy.
Deciding on another final solution for their pesky problem, they fed Michael oysters soaked in methanol. Then came sandwiches full of spoiled sardines and rat poison, with just a hint of carpet tacks. After that failed miserably, the Trust threw creativity out the window and simply waited for Malloy to pass out, then dragged his unconscious body into the -14 °F (-26 °C) night and tossed him in a snow bank. They then dumped 5 gallons (19 liters) of snow on his bare chest and left him to die.
Certain that Malloy was dead, the Trust were astonished when he strolled in the next morning, looking no worse for wear. At this point the Trust was running out of patience and ideas, so one member bit the bullet and ran Malloy over with his taxi, which was traveling at about 45 mph (72 kmh). This put him in the hospital with broken bones for three weeks, during which time the Trust attempted to collect the insurance money on him, but failed.
Michael eventually reappeared in the bar for his routine drink, so the Trust initiated their last ditch effort: they allowed him to pass out again, dragged him to the room of one of the Trust members, then inserted a hose in his mouth that was connected to a gas jet, killing Michael within minutes. For their trouble, they earned about $61,000 by today’s standards and a trip to the electric chair for all but one of the gang after they were unable to keep quiet and started talking about “Mike the Durable” around other speakeasies. Obviously they never read Top 10 Tips to Commit the Perfect Crime.
One thing about it...with friends like this you don't need many enemies! Tough old bird, wasn't he?
Coffee in the kitchen this morning. How about some cherry pie?