I just looked at the calendar.
Five years ago, my second husband told me he loved me and went out to walk the dog. He moved right in with one of my "best friends".
And that night I took over eighty 150 mg Wellbutrin in an attempt to die. Three days of convulsions and intensive bad hallucinations later, I regained some semblance of myself. A permanently brain damaged semblance, but still.
I bet they have no trouble sleeping at all. People without a shred of human decency or morals generally sleep like lambs.
Dear God, please, just let them die in a freak plane wreck that lands on their car or something. Amen.