Categories Uncategorized A Week of Silly Polls #2: Find the Psychopath! Post author By John Scalzi Post date July 19, 2011 84 Comments on A Week of Silly Polls #2: Find the Psychopath! Because THEY COULD BE ANYONE. Take Our Poll Share: By John Scalzi I enjoy pie. View Archive → ← The Big Idea: Ann VanderMeer → Bachmann’s Headache 84 replies on “A Week of Silly Polls #2: Find the Psychopath!” I don’t remember where he was hiding, but if you want his body back then you better bring a shovel and be prepared to dig him back up yourself. My roses will bloom lovely next year mwahahahaha He just rung your doorbell, he needs you to sign for a candy-gram. Next door, where he’s lived for years. It’s a good thing you’ve never taken him up on the offers to see his “collection”. I am the psycho killer! Bwahahaahahaha! On the neighbors’ roof, with venomous spiders. Darnit, CrypticMirror, that one was mine! Now I gotta go back to terrorists, and they’re not nearly as much fun. They don’t even try to hide. Man, what I wouldn’t give for one good cannibal and a machete. (I’ll fix your roses good, CM!) He’s posting silly polls on one of your favorite blogs! Under the bed with a pike. Judging by the fish smell, he’s been there for a few days. He’s IN MAH BELLAH! Either that, or I shouldn’t have eaten those triple suicide wings last night. But how likely is THAT, really? I’m not too worried, but I’ll be sure to warn the first “pycho” I come across. :P He’s in the living room pretending to be a coat rack. He is located right “around the corner” in another dimension right next to ours, yet immeasurably distant. A dimension not only of sight and sound but of mind. He’s actually the rooster in the yard. That sucker tries to sneak up and nail me every couple of days. I turn and catch him at it and he backs off and gives me that “What? I wasn’t doing anything” look. He’s that guy always standing on the corner by the bus stop, trying to sell newspapers, but mumbling to himself. He’s ready to push you in front of the 510 express bus, if you even try to look at him, just like… that. He is chasing you around the barn with a pair of rusty pruning shears intent on clipping your Achilles tendon. Then he can stand over you and you have not way of escape. ( I can’t take credit for this idea, it was a nightmare of a buddy of mine from high school) Or… He has uses the microwave to prepare all your burritos so that when you need one you have to make a 2AM run to Taco Bell and there he is waiting for you hidden. Instead of the speaker that you yell into for your burrito supreme order its the pyscho’s mouth your talking into and then he strikes in Hannibal Lector style. On the bookshelf behind me in the dark study, hidden in a John Scalzi novel. He’s calling from *in the house*! Probably. Or somewhere in that cell or general area. We think. He’s near you. Oh yes. So very near you. Because he _is_you, your other you; the you you don’t know about. He’s awake when you’re asleep. He does things… terrible, obscene things. And you can’t trust your memories, because he does things to them as well. Now good night and get some sleep, you need your… rest…. he’s busy trying to take grandma off medicare and make her eat cat food while fighting to make sure his billionaire donors pay the lowest tax rate in a century. In the bottom of a tequila bottle in my pantry, just waiting for me to start drinking… He’s in your computer. This explains a lot about the way my cat has been behaving. In the backseat of the car (with a hook) I totally read this as: ” In the backseat of the car (with a book)” He’s hiding in the air conditioning ductwork. But since it’s hot as hell, there isn’t a chance he’ll come out to bother with me. I’m safe until a cool front shows up! He’s cleverly disguised as a spare tire in the trunk of the Mini. Next door, of course. But you don’t mind, because he’s always been such a quiet, polite neighbor. I preheat my oven, so I should be fine. There’s no way to know. The psycho killer is in fact, also a ninja, which means you’ll never see him no matter where he is. But if she’s in the basement, what’s she armed with? Sword, pike, hook, what’s the obvious basement weapon? Oh, wait, I see. (Runs away screaming.) Behind the face you that greets you in the mirror every morning as you brush your teeth and think about the years gone by. In the car park building. Parked next to you in the very large SUV. You will know it’s him because you will drop your keys before you have a chance to unlock your car. I think I left him in the desert somewhere. Don’t ask me where exactly: all those Negev wadis look the same to me. He’s in the basement, but since we don’t really have them here in SoCal- he’s out of luck! Actually, my guess is he’s been outside for the past month trying to strangle my cable connection, because Whatever takes FOREVER to load these days. Either that or he’s been installing scripts in the page headers to slowly suck the life from me. Suck all you want, dude. There’s a lot more of me than there is of you! In the library. With a candlestick. No, wait, I’m starting to see a pattern here. A sneaky CAT pattern. He is hiding out in the persona of a teenage girl taking gymnastics. When you least expect it, he will launch himself at you from the uneven parallel bars and eviscerate you with his perfectly pointed toes while sticking the landing. She’s currently in the cubicle across from mine. Sheesh, you don’t call the next day one time… Psychokiller/Qu’est-ce que c’est In the closet. With the door just a sliver of an inch open. AAARRRGGGGHHHH – I can’t even stand thinking about it. I’m off to make sure every closet door in the house is tightly closed now. In the News of the World newsroom, where none of the senior executives have any knowledge of him. You’re giving us multiple-choice answers in order to lull us into thinking he’s in one of the suggested places, so clearly he’s somewhere else. …unless that’s what you WANT us to think. So clearly, I can’t choose the wine in front of me. oh, come on, if you put a cat option it’s clearly going to win every time given your reader base He’s been pretending to be David Byrne since 1977. Doug: Fa fa fa FAA fa, fa fa fa FAA fa! He’s hiding in the curtains. No, not behind the curtains, in them. He’s dissociated into a number of filaments which are woven into the fabric. When the time is right he’ll either smother you or extend the filaments out onto the carpet, reform into a humanoid shape, and proceed as normal for standard serial killer. Hiding on the other side of the shower curtain when you have shampoo in your eyes. He’s hiding behind the couch where the other, incompetent killer fell asleep. Thank you sir, now I have nightmares. In the daytime! He’s in the internet, of course. I had to vote for “other”, you understand, because at the moment he’s inside my skin. Excuse me now, it’s time for my shot… He’s the police man ringing your doorbell right now, who has “just a few questions” and “do you mind if I come in?” while flashing his official badge, and before you’ve really considered whether you’re in more trouble letting him in or telling him to stay out, he’s already in and the door closes and you know he’s got a gun and you’ve heard so many stories of the police breaking into the wrong houses because your neighbor is growing weed and they can’t get their numbers straight but what can you do now he’s here and you’re alone… Actually he’s no longer on the couch. I divorced him years ago. Wait a minute. Is the one in the oven normal-sized? I don’t know exactly where you hid him, but if he lives down here, I’m sure he’s armed with a gun (or several guns, just to be safe). I sense a pattern. He resents the label “psycho killer”, and would like to state that “madness” is merely the response of sane individuals to an insane world. He also wants me to tell you to make sure your bloodstream is free of nanobots, and that you’re not supporting the NWO. I’ve just consulted my multiple personalities and we haven’t seen any murdering psychokiller. If you’d excuse me, Mother is calling… The basement? Impossible! I don’t have a basement. . . . . …wait a second! Who built this basem “Hiding” doesn’t necessarily suggest I can’t see him; it could simply mean that I would not recognize him for what he was. I don’t have a basement or an attic or a cat. The oven and microwave were empty when I looked. My bed it quite low, so no room there. Voted couch/snoring. Wait a minute… *I’m* the only one who crashes, snoring, on my couch. Does this mean what I think it does? I’m guessing he allegedly works as our receiving clerk . If you’ve ever looked in his eyes while yelling at him. you’ve figured out why we go through so many vendors here. -Hint-do Not dig in the pasture behind our store. I’m not sayin’ he’s buried parts of vendors out there, but I’m not sayin’ that he Hasn’t done that. This word, I don’t think it means what you think it means. Since he ambushed me in the bathroom, I had my handy dandy toilet plunger at hand to create a vacuum around his mouth and nose, thereby suffocating him. Then I unceremoniously flushed the talentless psychokiller down the toilet. Staggering into the library because we charged him overdue fines for that REALLY NASTY book he took out and never brought back. We took his red Swingline staplet, too, so now he’s going to set us on fire…. My Psychopath always hides in the furnace room. Why? Because it’s always the proverbial ‘Dark and Stormy” night when I have to crawl behind the furnace or Water Heater to Fix Something. He Knows That. I’ve always wondered about the cats. They look like they’re plotting something while snoozing on the couch. Wait, that’s my teenager sleeping on the couch. Nah. Couldn’t be. Well, at one time he was hiding in the Capitol disguised as the Vice President of the United Stated where he apparently had an underground bunker where he hid out much of the time. But our psychokiller appears to be many places recently: The Washington Post reported that Cheney purchased a home in McLean, Virginia (Washington suburbs), which he was to tear down for a replacement structure. He also maintains homes in Wyoming and on Maryland’s Eastern Shore. Our psychokiller’s favorite weapon appears to be a shotgun – with only one victim known to have survived his predatory “hunting trips.” In a cleverly designed push poll, John Scalzi asked where the Psycho killer was. Actually it was a list of suggestions as to where you should be as the Killer that Scalzi wants you to be. Beware John Scalzi has invaded your mind and you are now doing his Psycho killer bidding. It is a meme virus of epic proportions. I mean look this poll is really just a conversation that starts but he does not finish- on his blog which I think counts as a real live wire. hmmmn. Psycho Killer, Qu’est Que C’est? Wait John is merely a pawn. David Byrne has taken over his Brain. That is where the Psycho Killer is hiding. David Byrne Through John Scalzi is going to make you a PsychoKiller. In Tea Party headquarters, broadcasting plans to the minds of Republican senators and representatives. How’s that for a partisan, trollish answer? (Quietly backs out of comments thread.) Is that what I backed over this morning? And is that what stinks in the backyard now? Yikes! I’ve got a squashed serial killer’s corpse in the backyard now. Wondered why the dog didn’t need fed when I got home. Crap. Now I gotta go dig a lime pit. Thanks a lot, Scalzi. I live in Japan, so… No basement. No attic. No bed. Back seat of the car has child seats…. Wait, what is that thing the kid is playing with? Oh, his birthday present from gramma. Dang, I knew my mother-in-law didn’t like me, but this is a bit rough. No, don’t swing that in the car, papa is trying to drive, wait! OW! In a town in the woods at the top of a hill There’s a house where no one lives … And the house is dark there’s a noise upstairs At the top of the stairs there’s a door so you take a deep breath and try it He’s probably in the kitchen drawer underneath the microwave, along with all the other crap I can never find. He’s at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue, Washington, DC. He’s in your TV, just waiting for you to flip to the right channel… John Mark Ockerbloom @#72 Oh noes! He’s after the President!? Alert … whoever it is one alerts in such cases. He’s that last patient I have to see on Friday afternoon while I have the clinic to myself. Fortunately I know where all his torn ligaments are, so I can basically beat the crap out of him if he tries anything. I’ll lose my license, of course…. Some other place: In the corporate board room. I voted bathroom mirror thingie because my brother is currently snoring on the couch (I’m not even kidding, I swear) and that possibility is just far too disturbing to contemplate. live in a studio apartment so their’s nowhere for him to hide! He’s outside whining under my window wondering when I’m going to come out. I’ve got enough cliff bars to last a month. Let him grovel! The psycho killer just called you FROM INSIDE YOUR OWN HOME! He’s cleverly disguised himself as my roommate’s freaky tape-and-cellophane sculpture. Some other place I will detail in the comments… In the shadows. They’re always in the shadows flitting from place to place till they’re right in front of you. Mind you, you turned to catch a glimpse of the flitty thing so you don’t see them standing there till you turn eyes front. Then it’s too late. “Near” being a relative term, Albuquerque. She works at the Denny’s on 6th and Broad. He’s at the end of the book. He warned you not to keep going, but no, you had to keep reading… on the Board of Directors He’s doing that thing where he pushes against opposite walls with his feet and hands to hold himself against the ceiling in the hallway, because *no one ever looks UP!*. Unfortunately, I never walk down that hallway unless I need something out of the spare room, so he’ll eventually get exhausted and fall, accidentally impaling himself on his machete. Comments are closed.