I, Murderer

Your whole problem is, you're just like all the others.


With the trying-to-divine-the-killer's-motive-and-thus-avoid-my-untimely-death thing.  Shit.  I mean, really.  There's no grand plan, here, and I'm not Hannibal Lector.  I'm just a guy that likes to kill stuff.  Now, hold still--


Oh, now don't gimme those big doe-eyes, that helpless, lamb-to-the-slaughterhouse routine.  I'm resistant.  Captain Immune.  Huh, maybe if you hadn't kneed me where the kneeing was good--


Yeah, yeah, you're all so sorry.  Whatever.  I'm probably gonna be fucking sterile thanks to can-do little spitfires like you and all you can say is 'sorry'?  Well, excuse me if I don't have a cathartic cry on your shoul--


Hey, now, don't cry.  It's fucking annoying, plus you'll get all blotchy.  Don't you wanna look good for your funeral? What--?  Ooh, such language! Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?  Well, you won't anymore.  Now, hold still a mo--Jee-zus, stop with the crying, already! Some mortician's gonna have to stay real late just to make you look good on your big day.  You're being selfish, you know?


Ouch!


Do that again and I’ll videotape myself raping you and send it to your family on the day of your funeral.


Just kidding.


Or am I?


Jeez, lighten up, willya?  Life's too short—especially yours.  Just resign yourself to the fact that there's nothing you can do or could've done to stop this.  Your life ends tonight.  Game over.  End of story.  That's just the way it is.


It's nothing personal; you're just gonna die.  Live with it.


Excuse me?  Kill you or don't, just shut up, already?  And what Oscar-calibre gem did you steal that line from? Heh, was it Tank Girl?  It was, wasn't it?  Christ, you have the worst taste in--


Crap--be quiet, Winston, we'll go for walkies in a little while!

Damnit, that mutt's just gonna howl till I take him out.  He gets on my nerves, but I love the little guy.  So, whaddaya think?  Should I just kill you now, or kill you later?


Sweet zombie Jesus, you are the worst, whiniest victim I've ever had--and I've had twenty-seven, so that's saying something.  You're taking all the fun out of your senseless and violent death.


Fuck it, I'll just do it now, then walk the damn dog and be back in time for Lost.  Hold sti--


Look, wouldja stop asking? I mean, whaddaya want me to say, huh?  I don't know you from Adam.  I didn't stalk you, I don't hate you--I don't know you.  I'm doing this because I get off on it, not because I'm a misanthrope or because had a bad childhood.  I'm not--


No, there doesn't have to be a reason for any of this.  In fact, there isn't, sorry to tell you.  I know people tend to want their deaths to--air quotes--mean something.  And yours does.  It means I'm not as bored as I was three hours ago.


Oh, fine.  Fine!  If that's your last wish, the last question you want answered before you die, I'll indulge you.  Why am I killing you?


Why did I kill any of them?  Because I can.  Because I'll get away with it.  Because it's something to do--keeps me off the streets.  And it's cheaper than cable or hookers.  There, is that reason enough for you?  Jee-zus, but this used to be way less time-consuming!  Now--


Hold.


Still.

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