(screams and slashing)
- [Anthony] The very first day of a brand
new school year is always the most exciting.
I have been a teacher for 15 years at the Willowdale School
for Dementedly Gifted Li'l Slashers And Killers,
and, I still get butterflies in my stomach
the night before the first day of a new school year.
In case you couldn't tell, I love teaching.
And I teach children because they are the future.
And the future deserves to be nourished.
As the bell rang my new students piled into my classroom.
Once they were all in their seats, I introduced myself.
"Class, welcome to your first day, my name
is Anthony, but you all can call me Mr.
(distortion)
To kick off the new school year, I am not only your teacher.
But rather, your mentor into the wonderful
world of serial killing. (laughs)
With that said, let's take a
look at your summer assignments."
The fresh faced kids all looked at me
as they wore the projects they did for the summer.
Their summer work was to cut up both
of their parents' faces and stich together a skin mask.
As I walked around the room, I noticed that Andrew had
only used his Dad's face to do his project, unacceptable.
I stopped and asked him why his project wasn't complete.
He calmly explained that his parents had split up,
and, apparently, his mom moved out.
Jesus, excuses, excuses.
I told Andrew very firmly that he had until the
end of the day to find another face to go with his mask,
and finish it, or, I'd mark his project as incomplete,
and he'd miss the next field trip.
You can't win them all, but then, then there was Timothy.
He was a shy boy, but, the best serial killers always
have a shyness to them, that is, simply undeniable.
I walked up to his desk and saw his mask.
It was unreal, I mean, it was stunning.
The precision of the cuts had no skin tear whatsoever,
and neither of the faces he took had been stretched out
like they normally are when you
rip someone's face off their skull.
I daresay I was jealous, his stich work was absurdly clean.
I knew then that I wasn't looking at an aspiring killer,
no, this was the work of a prodigy.
I asked Timothy if I could try on his masterpiece.
He quietly removed it and handed it to me.
As I held Timothy's mask in my hands,
I noticed how smooth and flawless it felt.
And when I put it on, I almost forgot that I was
wearing two different people's faces. (laughs)
I carefully handed Timothy back his work,
and told him to make sure that he never loses it.
Then I walked back to my desk and
instructed everyone to put away their masks,
and take out their textbooks, but at that moment,
the new teacher's assistant burst through my classroom door.
And he was sweating profusely and dropping
stuff everywhere, sheer disruptive.
The children were not amused, it
was obvious what they wanted.
They were ready for their first lesson.
The tardy TA swore to me that he would be on time
tomorrow, but I assured him that he
most definitely would not, and the look
on his face was priceless when I announced to the class,
"Children, this class is Intro to
Slicing 101: The Art of the Cut.
And the first lesson is how to subdue your victim."
It was then that I used a chloroform
soaked rag to knock the TA out.
When he came to, he was strapped down on a dissection table.
Myself, and the entire class were gathered around
the TA who was properly gagged, so all
we could hear were his muffled screams.
I told the class to take a moment
and study the TA's eyes.
"Class, this is fear in its purest form."
All of the students looked at the terror beaming from our
new victim's eyes, but, it was only Timmy who absorbed it.
"Timmy, I'd like you to pick up your knife
and cut this man's throat." I said sternly.
To my surprise, Timmy didn't budge.
He looked as if he was stricken by stage fright.
"Timothy," I said softly.
He shyly took a moment to respond before saying,
"I never killed anyone, I mean,
I never killed anyone in front of people."
He was scared, he was no longer a prodigy serial killer,
but rather, a young boy who was not
aware of how much promise he had.
These are crucial moments in both a
teacher's career and a student's life.
I asked Timmy who he wanted to be when he grew up.
His reply caught me off guard when
he said, "The Butcher of Plainfield."
Timmy was looking down at his feet.
I smiled and said, "Oh, yes, the infamous Ed Gein.
He's a great inspiration to us all.
But you know Timothy, Ed Gein was caught. Yikes.
As a serial killer, we must do everything in our power
not to be caught, for us it's like getting an F in life."
Timmy looked absolutely crushed that I was revealing
the truth about his childhood hero.
I quickly rebuttled with, "Timothy, have you ever
heard of a man by the name of Elias?"
He shook his head, no.
"Well, Elias was a shy boy much like yourself,
he showed a lot of potential, but, he just
didn't know how to face his fears.
With a little guidance, he was able to study fear for what
it was, fear is a handicap, a handicap that prevents us
from reaching our true potential, okay?"
When Timmy looked up, I saw a spark in my pupil's pupils.
It was up to me to bring the light
out of this sharp young mind.
"You see Timmy, once you eliminate
fear, you eliminate the falsehood and then you're able
to find your true self, just as Elias did right before
he founded the Sonny Family Cult."
As the other students got giddy with excitement,
Timmy smiled and happily inspected his knife, he was ready.
"Come on Timmy, let's eliminate fear."
When I said that, Timmy raised his knife
high above his head and without hesitation,
he struck the TA in the abdomen.
The TA screamed as much as he was able to.
Timmy's stab was deep and it punctured vital organs.
The blood spilled out of the wounds
and made a pool on the dissection table.
Timmy then repeatedly raised the knife
and stabbed the TA all along his body.
His excitement was utterly contagious as blood spouted onto
his face and splattered on the other students around him.
The other students grabbed their knives and started
to violently stab the TA over and over.
It was the perfect mix of blood spilling
and children's laughter over the dying, muffled sounds
of the terrified man, soaked in fear.
Towards the end of class, I assigned the students
their homework for the evening.
Two chapters on torture techniques
and performing lobotomies.(laughs)
The bell rang and the students left the classroom.
However, Timothy stayed behind.
"Timmy, class is dismissed."
Timmy produced a knife from behind his back
and slowly walked towards me, there was a crazed
look in his eye as he held the knife out.
I backed up against the table, but Timmy got closer to me.
He was about a foot away from me when he just handed me
the knife and gave me a heartfelt hug.
A huge smile formed across my
face as Timmy left my classroom.
Not a bad day for a first day, if
I do say so myself. (laughs)
(ominous drone)