Now, a fair while back I made mention of the curious pusuit of the maniacal masked killer. To whit (to who?), that no matter how fast you run, it's no match for the slow, ponderous lumber of the strolling psycho.
Having sat through a number of Friday The 13th's due to cheap box set purchasement, I noticed a couple of other items that appear to be essential to any serial stalkery types.
Item 1: The Distraction Pussy
A popular item this. Seems that your average knife wielding maniac carries a cat in his coat pocket. After entering a deserted room, the lonatic secretes the kitten in a cupboard, behind a window, in a drawer, or in a pan. Then, he'll make 'The Suspicious Noise', causing the victim to wander alone into the creepy empty location, where (by use of a sophisticated form of mangonel or trebuchet) he will flinf the feline at females faces, thus distracting them with a sudden shock. Allowing time for him to creep up behind for The Unexpected Shock.
Item 2: The Dick Dastardly school of slaughter
Clearly, in order to become an Unstoppable Force Of Evil, you need to attend this school. Seems to me, that in order to speedily and efficiently dispatch a horde of horny teens, you need to send much time taking each murdered councillor and array them in a series of artistic displays, so that the Lone Survivor can run into them. Put them in a tree, hang them in a cupboard to swing out, or artfully arranged around a dining table. Result: The masked maniac becomes a cropper at the end.
And I'm not talking about Roys Rolls.
See, Dick Dastardly was the greatest driver of the Wacky Races. He should have won every single one! After all, he always managed to get so far ahead of all his competitors that he had pots of time to set up his elaborate traps! If he had just carried on racing, he'd've won!
You don't see Massa, Reikonnen or Hamilton in the F1 Grand Pricks, streaking ahead by a lap and on target for first place, only to stop at a shady bend, hang a canvas of the circuit across the road and dig a deep pit behind it, then hide behind a steward giggling like a maniac as they pack streak by. Then, wondering why everyone went through, try to drive through also, and go through the canvas and into the pit, thus losing the race.
Too busy being whipped by Nazi Dominatrix in cellars, that's the problem with these F1 bosses. We want skullduggery on the circuit - maybe Torro Rosso can hire Professor Pat Pending and his Convert-a-F1-Car. Perhaps Penelope Pittstop can chug around in the Compact Pussycat.
Even better if the Ant Hill Mob put Max Mosely in concrete slippers.
Dratt, Dratt, and double dratt!!
