Paul Augustus Howell was executed tonight by the state of Florida for his part in the death of a highway trooper. Howell was a drug trafficker who built a pipe bomb to kill two murder witnesses, but a Florida trooper was killed instead when he pulled the car containing the pipe bomb over during a routine traffic stop.
I can think of many reasons why Howell should have ordered an exceptional last meal prior to his demise. First, he was convicted in the state that serves the finest last meals in the country. Steak, lobster, fancy desserts--they're all available if your rendezvous with the Grim Reaper happens to take place in the Sunshine State. Second, Howell's middle name was Augustus, just like the first emperor of Rome. At the very least, he should've ordered a Caesar salad. Third, Howell was of Jamaican ancestry. I'm sure those talented Florida prison chefs could've whipped up some jerk chicken, oxtail soup, or something else with a little Caribbean flair.
But instead of choosing any of those options for his last meal, Paul Howell asked for a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. The lowest item on the culinary food chain, something that would barely raise the excitement level of your average kindergarten student. And Howell's choice begs another question as well; how do you utter your last words when your tongue is stuck to the roof of your mouth? Only Howell knows, and at this point, he's not talking.