Throughout South Carolina, I’m renowned for killing people and leaving my calling card behind, a DVD copy of the 2009 comedy, Couples Retreat. But today as I sat on death row, I committed a blunder so embarrassing that I’m worried it has put my legacy in jeopardy; when asked what I wanted my last meal before my execution to be, I got nervous and accidentally said, “yo-yo’s.”
Talk about a faux pas! I thought that I was the king of committing a pattern of murders that helps me achieve a sense of psychological fulfillment, but it turns out I’m actually the king of awkward. Larry David is pretty much my spirit animal at this point, but obviously it would be a version of Larry David that also kills people for fun. Could you imagine the crazy scenarios he would get into if that were the case? Now that's a good idea for a show. Curb Your Enthusiasm meets Dexter. Why is it that you come up with your most pitchable ideas when you’re 15 minutes away from getting executed in one of the 31 states where capital punishment is legal? So annoying.
Anyway, after I said I wanted yo-yo’s for my last meal, I couldn’t admit that I misspoke and I actually wanted my last meal to be my favorite food, a raw potato injected with marinara sauce. That would have implied weakness, and as a man who never showed any weakness when wielding his various murder weapons (anvils, grand pianos, giant red rockets with “ACME” written on the side, etc.), I wasn’t about to let that happen. Strength is sticking to your convictions, even if that means you have to eat a bunch of children’s toys like they’re food.
So that’s why I’m sitting here like a complete jackass, eating a bag full of yo-yo’s. Seriously, there must be seven or eight yo-yo’s in this bag they brought me. I really do not want to eat the plastic part, so I’m slowly slurping up the string like it’s a very long strand of spaghetti. I also keep saying, “Mama mia, that’s a spicy yo-yo!” but the guard won’t laugh. Probably because I’ve killed dozens of people, which I guess could be pretty off-putting to non-murderers. But come on, separate the art from the artist, my dude. And quit serial killer shaming me while you’re at it.
Looking back, I probably wouldn’t even be in this position if I hadn’t tipped off the police by purchasing so many copies of Couples Retreat on DVD. Add to that the fact that I blew my cover when I had something of a meltdown at my local pizzeria, and it’s no wonder I’m in this predicament.
The meltdown, by the way, wasn’t even really my fault. The guy didn’t give me the garlic knots that I paid for, so I was like, “Where are the knots I ordered? Don’t you know I’m the Couples Retreat killer? Show me some goddamn respect.” And he was like, “You kill people who are on couples retreats?” And I explained, “No, I kill people but I always leave behind a DVD copy of Couples Retreat. It’s a very funny romantic comedy from 2009, we should watch it.” At that point, I pulled a copy of the film out of my bag and made everyone in the restaurant crowd around my Toshiba portable DVD player and watch all 113 minutes of it. The guy who screwed up my order actually said he thought it was a pretty good movie, and he gave me my garlic knots on the house, which was pretty sick.
This would have been a total win in most epic fashion were it not captured on a customer’s phone and had the video not also gone viral. It’s ironic really. I spent all these years trying very deliberately to go viral, but in the end, it wasn’t the videos of my ukulele Weezer song covers that brought me temporary internet fame, but instead, my admitting to multiple counts of first-degree murder in public. Who could have foreseen this?
I just tried to get out of eating the rest of these yo-yo’s by acting really disappointed and saying, “Oh no, I forgot I need salt and pepper to eat this. Guess I can’t enjoy these delicious yo-yo’s.” The guard just smiled really smugly, handed me a salt and pepper shaker, and said, “I guess you don’t have any more excuses not to eat them.”
Only I would get rightfully exposed as a serial killer, be given the death penalty, and have to eat a bunch of yo-yo’s because I’m too proud to admit that I stuck my foot in my mouth.
Aaaaaaand this day just keeps getting worse. The guard just informed me that I won’t be executed until I finish every last yo-yo. I have the absolute worst luck.