The mad killer had left a trail of butchered bodies in his wake that brought to mind some kind of awful human chum line shoveled out for the police to follow like hungry sharks. His modus operandi was as unpleasant as his nickname, "The Maniacal Murderous Mutilating Madman of Midtown Manhattan". It was rather an excessively-long nickname, but we'd had a contest down at the 21st precinct where the winner who came up with the best nickname for the murderer won a free dinner at Happy Steak and it just so happened that that one was the most popular of the bunch. Personally I liked my own submission : "Kill-O-Tron X: Blood Hunter From The Future", but I was obviously in the minority on that one. In all honesty we could have just gone with "The Kiss Army Killer" which would have made sense given the murderer's habit of writing the police his taunting letters on Kiss Army stationary, but everyone had their own take on the killer's most suitable moniker...I'm just glad nobody actually voted for "Aquaman", because I'm pretty sure that one was meant as a joke.
The killer's latest victim had been found in the bathtub of her midtown apartment by a worried neighbor after she'd failed to show up for a ventriloquism lesson with her teacher, Jackie "Cap'n Patches" Paulsen.
"She never missed a lesson." the neighbor had explained.
"Ventriloquism was her whole life. That and 'Knife Collector's Showcase' on the QVC shopping channel. She tended to work blue, which I didn't particularly care for, but she was very good. Her comic timing was impeccable....God only knows what will become of Pappy Peanuts now that she's been butchered like that." The distraught woman went on to explain that Pappy Peanuts had been the victim's ventriloquist dummy; an overall-clad country bumpkin type of character with a taste for bawdy wordplay.
"Perhaps he can be donated to one of those creepy ventriloquist dummy museums I've heard about." I suggested.
"What kind of a maniac would do something like this?" She said, holding back sobs.
"A maniacal one." I said. "Yes sir, a real maniacal maniac is at work here. He murders and mutilates...he's a madman alright...who murders in the midtown Manhattan area. Yes siree, that's why we call him The Maniacal Murderous Mutilating Madman of Midtown Manhattan, miss... or as those on the inside call him, 'Mmmmmm'". I observed the mutilated body of the victim closely, making several mental notes...most of which were related to a discussion thread I'd chimed in on the previous night concerning World of Warcraft. My level 20 Paladin quest had given me an awesome new weapon and I wanted to share the news with my fellow dwellers of Azeroth.
"Did you happen to see anyone leaving this apartment carrying what appeared to be a human head?" I asked, pulling a pad and pen from my coat pocket. "Perhaps the man would have had something under his coat that might have made him look pregnant. Maybe in the last few days you've seen something strange like that and thought to yourself 'Hmmm, that man looks pregnant, just like Arnold Schwarzenegger in the delightful comedy, Junior. "
The woman thought for a moment. "Come to think of it, I did see a pregnant man carrying a human head, but I didn't really think anything of it until now" she said.
"Can you describe this man?" I asked.
"Well he looked pregnant...about nine months along I'd guess, and was carrying a human head." she said.
"Well seeing as how he couldn't possibly be nine-months pregnant in appearance and carrying a human head at the same time, this man is obviously an imaginary boogie man concocted by your no-doubt senile and traumatized mind, Mame...I'm sorry, but this looks like a dead end."
"But Pappy Peanuts is missing, Mr. Detectiveman. Wouldn't it be possible that the killer might have hidden the missing dummy in his coat, giving him the appearance of being pregnant?"
"Impossible...if he were nine months along as you claim he would have left behind a telltale trail of slimy ventriloquist dummy placenta...just like a giant murderous garden snail. It's always the afterbirth that nails them. At least that's how it goes with World of Warcraft. No, I think you've probably been reading too many Aquaman comic books, Mame, but for the sake of argument I'm going to have you draw a police sketch of this character that you believe you saw on this pad of paper." I said, passing her my pad and pen.
"But...I can't draw." she said.
"Nonsense. You'd be amazed what you can do when you put your mind to it. It doesn't have to be museum quality, Mame. I just need a little something to follow up on. Throw me a bone here for Christ's sake. I'm trying to apprehend a maniac before he strikes again....possibly in this very building...maybe coming back to cover his tracks by eliminating a potential witness who could put his crazy ass in the gas chamber. Follow me, Granny?"
The old woman gave the drawing her best effort, employing what limited artistic talent she possessed, and then passed the pad back, looking slightly embarrassed. I observed the drawing with a grimace of distaste.
"Well you're no Rembrandt, lady, that's for certain. Is that his eye? Looks like Paul Williams with downe syndrome. Is that an arm or a trombone? Shit, a three-year-old could draw a better murderer than this, but thanks for the effort. I'll make some copies and circulate them around...see if we get any nibbles." I tucked the drawing into my pocket. "Well, forensics will be here shortly to mop up this mess. If you see anymore murders you give me a call." I passed her my business card. "You might want to consider taking a few art classes. I believe seniors get some sort of discount at City College." I tipped my hat and turned to take my leave. "Now excuse me, Mame. I have to go shove an entire watermelon up my asshole." I said.
The elderly neighbor looked horrified by the idea. "I'm only funnin' ya, Granny." I said with a chuckle as I headed down the stairs.
Somewhere, out in the cold New York night, a kill-crazy maniac was running loose. I was just glad that I would be safely indoors playing World of Warcraft.
