I’m a pretty normal guy, I’ve got a job, I’ve got hobbies. I like to go to the movies and the park. I usually keep to myself. I mean, sure I’ve got a few little quirks too, like everybody else. Some people bite their nails, others might crack their knuckles or refuse to walk under ladders.
But me? I like to murder celebrities.
I guess it’s a sort of a “once you pop you can’t stop” situation, but instead of eating a lot of potato chips I’m killing celebrities in cold blood. Once I kill one celebrity I just have to murder two more.
Oddly enough, I don’t usually think of myself as a superstitious person. Heck, I think people who refuse to step on a crack in the sidewalk are downright silly! So I’m not sure why I kill the way I kill. What can I say? Maybe it’s because three is a prime number (I like prime numbers). Maybe it was something imprinted on me in my childhood. Or maybe it’s the voice of God being transmitted directly into my brain, always beckoning me to kill. If I had to wager, I’d put my money on the last reason, but who knows?
All I know is that the only way I can make the voice of God momentarily stop yelling in my ear is by killing three celebrities in rapid succession, for example: Carrie Fisher, Alan Thicke, and George Michael.
On a somewhat related note, I’ve also killed a bunch of 27-year-old rock stars over the years. But that was just because I’m not a fan of their music. The number 27 does nothing for me.
Don’t get me wrong, I do feel some remorse. I feel terrible about having to end Ralphie May and Tom Petty’s lives (American Girl is one of my favorite songs!), and I’ll feel terrible about strangling the life out of a certain CW show cast member soon enough. But I’m just a goof like that, and it’s what HE INSISTS OF ME. So what are ya gonna do? I gots to get number three!