The Stench of Honolulu by Jack Handey:
Doctor Ponzari was seated at a table in his flower garden. As soon as I saw him I could tell that he was pure evil. I’ve only had that feeling a few times in my life. I’d say about forty or forty-five times. My mailman is pure evil.
He was wearing a crisp linen suit. I wondered how many hundreds of people had died making it. His movements were elegant and refined, like some evil shitbird from Hell. He was eating a banana, elegantly.