I rolled my eyes at her, "Who's going to respect me if I don't murder in style?"

"I get that, it's just...pink. Really? Nobody's going to take you seriously!"

I turned away from her, shaking my head. "I never said anything about them taking me seriously! What if I wanted to feign insanity? I couldn't do that wearing leather and a denim jacket, could I? Crime is an art and I have perfected it!" I spun back around to face her, and jabbed a finger into her stomach. "Obviously, you wouldn't understand things such as these. I have a job to do, and I'll do it how I damn well please!"

She looked hurt. Maybe I was a bit too harsh on her, it was her first day after all. "And the bodies?"

"They've been placed in various ways, to subtly clue the detectives to our exact location. My guess is that they are about an hour away. Everything else is running smoothly."

She nodded sharply, and began to bounce on the soles of her feet. I eyed her curiously, "What's wrong Dani? Afraid?"

She looked up at me. "Well...uhh...yeah, kinda. What if it goes wrong?"

I laughed until tears flowed. "Are you suggesting that my work would fail? That those bumbling buffoons could do nothing but quiver in fear. They don't want to deal with me. I'll kill them, and they know it."

"So what's with all the games? All the killings? Can't you just scare the police into doing what you want?"

Come now, where's the fun in that?"

She did not respond.

I decided to probe her further. "Dani, have you ever tortured someone to the brink of insanity?"

"Well yeah. "Course I have."

"Did you enjoy it?"

"I suppose I did."

"Of course it was! What type of self-depreciating villain doesn't like torturing someone? To push them over the edge! To make them plead for respite! Who wouldn't love the thrill?"

"Well, I don't know."

"You see Dani, I don't torture people physically anymore. No, torturing them mentally is so much more fun! Letting those idiots of officers believe I'll stop the killings if they do just one more thing for me. Let them think they are so close to being free! Do you understand this, Dani?"

"I...I think I do."

I smiled. "I think your going to love being my lead henchwoman."

Well, thank you for the absolutely awesome prompt!

The guide quickly beckoned us closer.

"If you look now, you can observe an interesting phenomenon called 'death.' Entirely practiced only by lifeforms originating from the planet designated as Earth. Scientists have been researching the phenomenon for eons, but it is not yet known why these lifeforms participate in this peculiar activity."

I craned my neck further to get a glimpse of the humans. There were eight of them standing in a circle, around one singular human lying on the floor. The lone human was of the sub-species female, and seemed to be performing their respiratory functions with noticeable difficulty.

The guide began again. "See how they gather around the one who they refer to as dying? See how it resembles our ancestor's very own Egru'tar?"

I nodded. The Egru'tar was our traditional 'religious movements.' While it was done by every member of my species in days of old, only the devout and the First still practice it.

"Because of this, it has been speculated that 'death' is a religious tradition. It has been debated that dying is actually an act of supreme worship, and that all earthlings are required to do it at some point. Interestingly enough, when a human has finished dying, all their bodily functions cease to operate in a desired way. Including brain activity."

An audible gasp rippled through our group. One member piped up, "But how is that possible? Surely their soul cannot leave their flesh?"

The guide shook one of their heads, "It still is not known how this occurs. But that seems to be the case. After they have finished dying, they cannot move, talk or think. They are just hollow...empty, so to speak."

"Then why would the earthlings want to do it?" Someone else asked.

"Some would do anything to get closer to their gods."

As the guide spoke that, the lying earthling ceased all of their movements. The other earthlings began to cry out, a sharp and hollow sound that seemed to pierce the air. I shivered as the noise flooded my olfactory receptors.

The guide looked at them. "Crying. Another religious observation practiced by the earthlings. I will tell you about it now."

Another one.

Just sitting in my hallway from God-knows where.

And my husband behind it, looking as giddy as a child with a candy bar. He smiled at me while speaking, "Look at this! All the latest features and more! Apparently this one can hold up to two times more cans of beer than a regular mini fridge. Isn't that awesome?"

I pressed my face into my hands and took a deep breath. I loved Tom and all, but this...this was too much.

"What the hell, Tom? You can't just keep buying mini-fridges! What's the point of all that extra space, if we have...what was it, five?"

He grinned again. "Yep! This makes six."

"Honestly, Tom! This seems to be harbouring on some sort of obsession. We don't need that many mini fridges."

"Of course we do! Where are we going to store all our food if the need arises? I'm thinking ahead, that's all."

"Thinking ahead does not mean buying six mini fridges. Six! Two, maybe three is enough! But six? That's overkill!"

He slowly shook his head, "I promise you, the sixth mini fridge is not the problem here."

"Well I'll be damned if it isn't," I shot back at him.

"Just hear me out. Imagine we hold a Thanksgiving dinner at our house. My parents and siblings come, your family comes. It's like a big thing."

"That's not go-" I began to say.

"Wait a second, Susie. Let me talk first."

I narrowed my eyes at him, and he spoke again.

"Everyone brings a plate to share, there's some mac and cheese, some various salads. Just the usual. But, there was a miscommunication. Both your parents and mine bring a turkey!"

I rolled my eyes at him. What on earth are you going on about?

"Well it's pretty funny at first, everyone's laughing at the fact that we have two turkeys. But then your mother says to put her turkey in the fridge, so we can save it for later, Well I wouldn't have planned for that. I'd have opened our fridge and saw there was no space. I'd have to leave the turkey out to go bad, which would garner disapproving stares from every party involved."

"So...you want six mini fridges because...?" I asked Tom.

"I don't want the turkey to go bad."

"Are we still talking about fridges?"

Haha thanks!

Thanks!

You expect me to write prose on a whim?

To expertly use all manner of verbatim?

Alas, your challenge,

Has made me cringe,

In matters of limericks I am quite dim.

You got it! :)

-Matt Smith. Interview 006-

"And so you followed him?"

Yeah. He was acting kind of suspicious. I was just trying to do my civic duty. I didn't want to get into all this mess, that's for sure.

"Where was Miss Finch during this time?"

Cindy was with me. Scared out of her mind, the poor gal. Had to hold her hand even. Anyways, as I mentioned, I thought I saw him conceal a gun in his cloak. And so I gave chase. We followed him for a couple of minutes to some sort of a warehouse down by the docks. The guy slipped in somehow, and I could hear more voices. Seemed to me like there was a whole [Expletive] gang in there.

"What did you do after that?"

Well Cindy had the willy-nillies, wanted to go home and all that. James was telling me that we should call the cops. I agreed with him there, even if it amounted to nothing, see something say something, y'know? Cindy was as pale as a ghost, this place must have spooked her bad. I don't know what they were doing, but I didn't like it one bit, no sir.

"And so we received a call from Mr Gardiner at 10:19 that night"

Was that the time? Well, yeah, yeah that's what happened.

" Is there anything else that you would like to mention?"

I don't know, I don't even remember seeing much of anything at all. Stuff like that happens like a blur, y'know?

"Thank you, Mr Smith, for your time."

You're welcome, officer.

-James Gardiner. Interview 003-

"You want to remind me what you were doing?"

Well, we were drinking. Too much probably. It was me, Matt and his girlfriend. Anyways Matt mentions that he think he saw someone with a gun go down a side alley. He's all riled up, saying we should go after him. Cindy is yelling at him not to go, but he's not listening and rushes off to find the guy. So, of course, me and Cindy start to follow Matt, who's following the guy.

"Why did you follow?"

Well...uhh...I suppose I thought one-on-three would be fine, even if he did have a gun.

"And what happened next?"

Well we followed him, until they went down to the docks. Cindy was getting scared, y'know saying we shouldn't be here and all that. By this time we had caught up to Matt, who said the guy went into a building, and he points to one over by the end of the dock. We heard people inside, and ended up calling the police.

"And so we received a call from you at 10:19 that night."

Yep.

"Is there anything else that you would like to mention?"

Yeah. Why did you arrest Cindy?

"...Mr Gardiner, thank you for your time."

Hmph.

-Cindy Finch. Interview 009-

"What were you doing at the time of the incident, Miss Finch?"

I was drinking with Matt and his friend.

"And why did you start following Ernest?"

Who are you talking about?

"Playing dumb isn't going to help Miss Finch."

I saw Ernest, and I screamed. Matt probably followed my gaze and saw the gun in his pocket. He was drunk and tried to get it away from him. Ernest ran away, and Matt started to follow him. I grabbed Matt's hand to try to get him to stop, but he wouldn't. Matt starts making a mad dash to Ernest, and James says we should all go follow. I don't want to, but I reluctantly go with him.

"And you end up at the docks?"

Yeah.

"What did you do there?"

We called the police.

"But what did you do there?

We...smuggled coke. I suppose you know all about now anyways.

"Please tell me, Miss Finch."

We imported it from various sources, Ernest, Peter and I. Made a lot of money too. Ernest came to tell me about something, saw I was with Matt, and ran off to tell Peter. I never liked Ernest, he always wanted to drive a wedge between Peter and I, and now he had the perfect ammunition. Matt saw Ernest's gun, and the rest is history, I guess.

"Is there anything else that you would like to mention?"

No.

"Well, thank you for your time."

A pleasure.

Isabel was folding her laundry again.

She carefully flattened each piece of clothing, before delicately and gingerly moving her hands to create the desired shape. First a shirt, then a towel. She had a job to do, and would finish it whether she liked it or not.

If you observed her closely you would notice the soft and subtle jiggles of the tiniest amount of baby fat on her chin, which some would describe as being flawless. Her chin was the perfect shape, not to bony, yet not too round either.

Others would notice the voluminous lengths of wavy hair that went across her face. Her absolutely stunning eyebrows. Like a caterpillar on a delicate leaf, her eyebrows managed to frame her face in a most picturesque manner.

When Isabel had to bend down to pick up a stray sock that had fallen on the ground, her perfectly symmetrical and prominent spine came into view. Arched like a cat, it had the most appealing number of bumps and ridges. Enough, I daresay, that her spine was enough to make most men faint.

Isobel was stunning, in her own way.

"With our all-new product you can harness the power of electromagentic energy right in your own homes! Our leading technicians have even informed us, that it is relatively safe to stand next to it!

Do you hate food that is either too hot or too cold? Well why not have both? Our product uses ingenious methods to make the outside of the food boiling hot, while keeping the inside a nice freezing temperature.

Experience a flavour party in your mouth like never before!

Our newest model even includes a clock! It won't work, but now you always have something to blame if your ever late!

Our product comes in an exciting shape! Why own a boring circle when you can have a rectangle in your own home! You can look at it in wonder for hours on end! ^(on a side note- I am legally required to tell you not to look at it when active.)

Try the newest craze to hit the market since we brought you a hole that can store all your mess!

Drifting through the cosmos was to me, my sole purpose.

I could not do anything else after all, because there was nothing to do. I had long ago reasoned that there must be an end. For I had a beginning, and logic assumes that I must end.

But what pained me was the fact that I was here.

Why exist, if my life is devoid? Why did I occur? Why am I? These thoughts plagued my mind for eons, until I settled on an answer. Albeit, roundabout in nature. I was here to be. That is all. If the only reason that I am here, is to be here, then I am happy.

And so to fulfil my purpose, I wait.

My ending will come soon, and my purpose will be fulfilled. To have lived, and to eventually not. That is who I am.

But.

What if there is more? What if there are others? What if I'm not alone? What if my purpose is to discover another's purpose? If I exist like this, I can assume I am not unique in my situation. Others may be cursed to endure like me.

And so I drift. Past dying stars and lifeless asteroids. With a purpose. With a hope.

To be more than I am.

"I need a better title." He simply said.

"You..what?" I replied, bewildered.

With a sigh he continued, "Look man, the publishing game is getting hard. New books on every subject are coming out at an ever-increasing rate. How many books do you think there are that are exactly like yours? Hundreds, if not thousands of carbon copies of your book. What you need is to be set apart from the rest. What you need is a better title."

"My title is fine." I responded defensively. "It works well, fits the theme. Like when have you seen a p-"

"It needs a BETTER title. Just listen to me. Your book is fine, it's obvious you're a good writer. Surely you can think of something else. Something...unique."

I paused in thought for a while, beforeI spoke again, "I had thought about using Growing Pains as a title. Maybe I can use that."

"It needs a better title! What are you writing about, pregnancy? Think of something good!"

"I don't know. Why does it need a good title anyways? The book is jus-"

"EVERY book needs a good title! I'm trying to help you here! A good title is the make or break moment in a book. The first thing a consumer sees! And you want to squander that opportunity with a mediocre title. I will not accept that!" My publisher yelled at me.

"Alright, alright. Well how about The Day the Starch Stopped Flowing?" I asked.

"What the hell are you thinking? Better than that!"

"Uhh...do you like, How to cripple a country in three easy step?"

"BETTER THEN THAT."

I started just saying what ever came to my mind first."Dinner will never be the same."

"IT NEEDS TO BE BETTER"

"1845: Tater-less and afraid."

"What the hell does that even mean? Honestly, I had high hopes for you. It seems to me that I cannot continue to be your publisher." He slowly said, while standing up from his chair.

Angry and upset I gave him one final title. "How about The silence of the yams?"

A look of shock, then awe appeared on his face. "Its...it's perfect. The pacing...the theming...the pun! Oh...this is amazing. I can envision it now. Millions of these books flying off the shelves. You...you, my good friend have found a better title."

He got up and shook my hand vigorously. And the deal was struck. I would have a published book, and my publisher would have a good title.

Well that seems kind of violent, but well-deserved I suppose.

At that point in time, I was unaware of Matt’s true character…he would lie, yes, but he had never killed anybody. But I see your point, and I suppose it was a momentary lapse in judgement.

I guess you have a good point.

I don't think thats an option I want to try...

I guessed as much. The only question now is when.

Canada, I believe.

That seems a bit drastic. I may have to do that, however.