The Stranger gets stranger and stranger still

There has been much discussion on one of the most famous scenes in The Stranger. Yes, the one where Mersault decides that it's a good idea to shoot a guy five times in broad daylight. For reference: 

"Beneath a veil of brine and tears my eyes were blinded; I was conscious only of the cymbals of the sun clashing on my skull . . . The trigger gave, and the smooth underbelly of the butt jogged my palm . . . I fired four shots more into the inert body . . . And each successive shot was another loud, fateful rap on the door of my undoing."

What was Mersault's true motivation? So goes the question. My theory is simple -- bitch be crazy. Here are some of the ways in which his mind might have snapped:

--

CAUSE-EFFECT FAIL

Mersault: Damn, it's hot outside. 

Vendor: Some ice cream, sir? 

Mersault: KILL THE ARAB. 

--

SONG INTERPRETATION FAIL 

Mersault: It's getting hot in here... so I take out my gun... 

The Arab: I -- am -- getting so hot -- he's gonna blow my head ooooff!

--

SYMBOLISM FAIL 

Mersault: Sun! Sun! Whatever could it mean? Hmm. Carefree Happiness or Fateful Rap On The Door Of My Undoing? 

English Student: Well, I think happiness -- 

Mersault: You're right. Too easy. Bam! Bam bam bam bam! Now watch my life go down the toilet.   

--

DICK CHENEY FAIL 

Mersault: The sun. It was bright orange. The color... compelled me... to shoot... 

Judge: This is such a joke. 

--

SHAKESPEARE FAIL 

Mersault: But soft! What light through yonder seaside aches? It is the East, and I have a gun.

The Arab: I really think you're more of a Hamlet.

--

SEX APPEAL FAIL

Mersault: Marie seems to like my peculiarities. If I shoot this guy five times and blame it on the heat --

Marie: OH BABY. 

Mersault: It's sexy time. 

--

PHILOSOPHY FAIL 

Philosophy Student: So you believe in passive indifference to the world around you? 

Mersault: Yes. 

Philosophy Student: HOW IS SHOOTING THAT GUY FIVE TIMES PASSIVE INDIFFERENCE?

Mersault: ... 

--

CULTURE FAIL 

Judge: But why? Why five times? 

Mersault: Monsieur, I am French. Overkeel is our specialty, ees eet not? 

Judge: ...Can't argue with that.

--

Oh, Mersault. Such a charming young man. 

(Small note: The Arab really is referred to as "The Arab." I'd give him a nicer name, but I think it would interfere with Camus' wah-wah-the-universe-sux-and-none-of-us-matter existentialist shtick. And, you know. I'd hate to disrespect literature.)

Romeo and Juliet: I guess adolescent stupidity is pretty tragic

Montague servant: blind hatred!
Capulet servant: blind hatred back at you, mothafucka!
Montague servant: bitch, I'll cut yo white Italian ass.
Capulet servant: oh, gurrrrl! Tybalt, hold my earrings.
Tybalt: I love the glorious whiff of senseless violence in the morning.
Benvolio: please stop?
Prince: if your families continue fighting, something TERRIBLE will happen. TERRIBLE. ENGLISH STUDENTS, THIS IS FORESHADOWING.

Montague: Romeo is moping around like a dumb emo bitch. Please put him out of his misery before he makes a mix tape.
Benvolio: kay.

Benvolio: Romeo. Romeo. Really, man?
Romeo: shit, I love Rosaline but our love can't be real unless she puts out... I think I'll make her a mix --
Benvolio: NO. You are coming to a party. And will you please cut your hair?
Romeo: my atrociously long bangs hide me from the cold, cruel nature of this world.

Paris: I can has Juliet's hand in marriage?
Capulet: woah there, creeper! She's THIRTEEN! You will have to wait!
Paris: until what age?
Capulet: like... fourteen.
Paris: oh hay that makes sense.

Capulet: darling, how do you feel about marriage?
Juliet: that's creepy! I'm THIRTEEN!
Capulet: maybe you can force yourself to love this guy named Paris.
Juliet: I love the fifteenth century.

Mercutio: my character > this play.
All The Bitches: WE LOVE YOU WE LOVE YOU WE LOVE YOU.
Mercutio: I know, ladies. I know.

Romeo: fuck this party. I'm going to make Rosaline a mix -- hold up. Who's that?
Juliet: oh my gosh! Maybe I do want to get married!
Romeo: you're hot.
Juliet: Romeo, take me somewhere we can be alone! I'll be waiting, all there's left to do is run! You'll be the prince and I'll be the princess! It's a love story, baby just say yes!
Romeo: do you put out? (He leaps over a fence) but soft! What light through yonder window breaks! It is the East, and you are hot! Like a SUN!
Benvolio: fuck my life.

Romeo: so can I marry a thirteen-year-old I met today in secret?
Friar: Vegas style, huh? Luckily I have some Elvis gear behind the crucifix.

Tybalt: VIOLENCE VIOLENCE BLIND HATRED VIOLENCE!!!!!!
Romeo: no thanks.
Tybalt: what?! I KEEL YOU!!!
Mercutio: (he dies. The play becomes significantly less entertaining.)
Romeo: oh shit. I guess that means I KEEL YOU TOO!!!
Tybalt: (he dies. One would think the play would become significantly less senseless and violent, but hoo boy, we've just hit the beginning.)
Romeo: well, I'm officially not just an idiot but a murder. Banishment time!

Juliet: Romeo killed my cousin, oh no!
Nurse: whatever. A fine ass piece of meat like that ain't gonna come around every day. Stop channeling Taylor Swift and start channeling Tila Tequila.
Juliet: good point. I like to fuck, every day, ever night... I like to fuck, when it's wrong, when it's right...
Romeo: except it's always wrong because you're thirteen. Too bad! Let us consummate our day-old marriage, my little sex kitten.
Juliet: oh baby, consummate it harder.

Plot break in which everything goes to shit

Romeo: Juliet is dead! I will weep! I will scatter flowers! I will make her cold, dead body a mix -- PARIS! I KEEL YOU!!!
Paris: shittiest role ever.
Romeo: and now I KEEL MYSELF!!!
Juliet: my plan fell through? Goodness, I thought pretending to be dead without explaining the guise to my significant other would be foolproof. Oh well, it just goes to show that even the most meticulous, sanely constructed plans fall through sometimes. What's the most effective way to kill myself?
Friar: you know, there are plenty of other fish in the sea.
Juliet: (ignoring him) I guess I can kiss Romeo's lips; I was always sort of into necrophilia.

Capulet: weep! We must find a constructive way to deal with this calamity!
Montague: I know -- let's erect a statue forever glorifying teenage idiocy.

High school teachers: this is not a comedy. No. Nothing about the ending of this play is remotely funny.
Students: FALSE.