I was being ironical.
There’s an art gallery on a street near our house that specializes in crap. Recently they had a window display of sad clowns that looked like mug shots for a pedophile ring: these were the scariest nightarishiest motherfuckers I’ve ever had the displeasure to see. If I were a slasher, I might dress up like one of them, just to see the horrified disgust in the faces of my victims.
Daniel
And, remember, this was what the proprietor felt would bring customers into the store. I almost want to know what was considered less attention-getting that was in the actual gallery, itself.
Almost.
Obviously a scene from Brokeneck Mountain.
I will not keep body parts or personal belongings as souvenirs. After each kill, I will buy a traditional souvenir- such as a snowglobe, bobblehead or Hummel figurine- to remember the kill.
I will remember that imitation is the sincerest form of flattery. Rather than lessening me, copycats are just fans who make me harder to catch.
First and foremost, I will tell those damn producers that they won’t see one drop of blood till we get the residuals and back end deals sewn up. Leather Face still lives in a trailer, fer chrissakes. Show me the money, bitches!
Curiously enough, when I read this thread title, my first thought was that it was about film editors. What I would do if I could edit any film, any way I wanted?
That’s all I’m sayin’…
I kind of like the idea of Hummel figurine slashers, posed at the moment of their strike. Both real and fictional – Freddy and Michael Myers and Ted Bundy and John Gacy, dozens filling a curio cabinet. Really, to die for!
If a person sees or discovers some horrible thing connected to my work but does not immediately connect it to me, and stumbles into my office or apartment babbling hysterically, I will not say, “Now, now, calm down, take a deep breath. Have you told anyone else about this?” They’ve got to be on to that one by now. I will instead encourage the subject to tell the whole story from beginning to end, omitting no detail. This is more time-consuming, but a safer way to determine who must or must not be eliminated to safeguard the Great Work.
If I were prone to stalking and/or studying my victim for a long time before the actual slaughter, I would refrain from the (apparently standard) practice of amassing a truly vast collection of newspaper cuttings, photos, memorabilia etc. pertaining to my intended victim, and either (a) compiling this material into fat scrapbooks that are only a little bit hidden in my den, or (b) mounting all of this material around the walls of my den to form an eloquent, colourful tapestry of my murderous intentions. These things can be a trifle incriminating. (‘No, honestly, I just prefer old news cuttings to wallpaper’).
Am I being whooshed? I believe the reference was to the Latin cum. The first entry pretty much covers it.
Although I deeply, deeply love implements of mayhem like the chainsaw, machete and slingblade, after watching legions of my predecessors eventually fall due to hubris, I determined that my MO would be the ice pick planted deeply into the upper spine. No blood, not much noise, fits easily in the pocket.*
So far, no one at MegaCorp, where I work as a meek mail clerk, is any the wiser.
Getting them on airplanes has proven a challenge, although buying them in the nearest MegaMart at my destination is ridiculously easy. (Take your work out of state, dude.)
I know, it’s a joke. Not a very good one, I guess. (Anyway, it’s what my brain reported on first reading.)