How Jeff the Killer Got His Groove Back - A Parody That Probably Shouldn't be Read by Anyone

The world's most beloved mass-murderers, along with their friends and family, all gathered once a year for their annual awards ceremony at the Dorothy Chandler Pavilion in Los Angeles. It was an event that was NOT to be missed, at least not by anyone who was a fan of Jeff the Killer, Slenderman, and the like. Similar to any other award show, the most important prize was saved for the end, which in this instance was Killer of the Year. 
Jeff, who had been nominated for that most important award, had slouched awkwardly in his seat as some of the earlier, less impressive trophies had been handed out. He didn't care who won in categories like Newcomer of the Year or Most Creative Kill With a Kitchen Blender. However, as the big moment arrived, Jeff sat forward in rising anticipation. 
The emcee's booming voice sounded out over the pavilion's sound system. "And now, here to present the award for Killer of the Year is last year's winner, Bill the Sadistic Clown! And presenting along-side him is everyone's favorite electrocutioner, Electric Sandy!
The crowd offered some light applause as the two presenters entered from opposite flanks and approached the podium. Sandy, a punk-rock looking killer, cleared her throat and looked at the teleprompter. "We all know that murder is usually wrong," she began, "but every once in a while a killer comes along who raises the bar and turns it into an art form. And we're here tonight to celebrate those rock stars of the murder community, those who have intrigued us, and those who make us appreciate the exquisiteness of a well-orchestrated butchering."
Bill the Sadistic Clown took over from there, dutifully reading his lines from the teleprompter. "Yes Sandy," he said woodenly, "and we are lucky to have four such murderers here tonight." He squinted hard while trying to read his lines. "And speaking of murderers Sandy, did you know there's life after death?"
Sandy took her turn reading her lines. "Really? There's life after death, Bill?"
"Yes," Bill said, "just not for the person who got killed pause for laughter."
The crowd remained mostly silent as a couple of people could be heard clearing their throats. Still in his seat, Jeff whispered angrily to his assistant Janet sitting next to him. "I can't believe I lost to this moron last year!"
"Shh..." Janet said with a wave of her hand. "They're just about ready to get on with it." 
Back on the stage, Bill the Murdering Clown continued with his awkward presentation. "And the nominees for Killer of the Year are..."
Electric Sandy took over from there. "Mike the Murder for the Huntington Beach garrote-a-thon." Pictures of several dead beachgoers, with ligature marks spread across their throats, flashed on the screen behind them. 
Jeff's jaw clenched at the mention of Mike's name. "That loser is just a cheap carbon copy of me!" he whispered to Janet. "Except he has to strangle people because he's not man enough to stab them."
Electric Sandy continued to read the names. "Boiling Karen for the Costa Mesa Cookout." The screen behind the presenters showed a whole crapload of dead people in a giant cooking pot. 
Jeff looked annoyed. "Oh, how original. Boiling people to death."
"Actually, that is pretty original," Janet whispered back.
Jeff made a talk-to-the-hand gesture as he turned his attention back to the stage.
"...And Crybaby, for the Cerritos Razor Ingestion Murders." The screen showed a man-sized baby standing among several victims whose stomachs had erupted from the inside, revealing dozens of razors that they had been forced to eat until death.
Jeff slapped his palm to his forehead. "Oh my God how stupid is that?" 
"Pretty creative if you ask me," Janet whispered back.
"No, he stole it from a video game, I think."
Janet elbowed Jeff and pointed toward the stage, "Be quiet, your next."
Sandy kept reading. "And our last nominee certainly needs no introduction, it's Jeff the Killer, nominated to the Alpha Kappa Chi Lambda sorority house slashing." The screen flashed images of dead sorority girls spread throughout their house. Jeff smiled widely. 
Bill the Sadistic Clown picked up the envelope, tore it open, and pulled out the paper from inside. "And the winner is..."
Jeff stood up.
"...Mike the Murderer!"
Jeff sat back down, with an intense look of disbelief slowly oozing down his face.
Janet, ever the good assistant, immediately began trying to calm Jeff. "It's okay Jeff, everyone knows you're really the best."
Jeff, unable to hear her over the rapturous applause in the auditorium, stewed angrily in his seat, right up to the point where he just couldn't take it anymore. "Let's get the Hell out of here. I just can't watch this," he said as he stood up from his seat and made a beeline for the nearest exit.
Janet followed him, fishing her phone out of her purse and placing a quick call to her assistant Jar Jar Binks. "Jar Jar, we'll be out front, bring the car around."
"Mee'za on it!" Jar Jar said.
Jeff and Janet made their way out to Grand Avenue and waited until Jar Jar's '85 Chevy Impala pulled up to the curb. "Did yousa win, Jeffy?" Jar Jar asked as they opened the doors and climbed inside. Janet looked at Jar Jar, shook her head, and tried to wave off further questions with a motion of her hand. Jar Jar, unable to take a hint, kept at it. "But yousa been nominated seven times in a row, and yousa never won. Tonight wassa your night!"
"Just drive, Jar Jar, and no more questions or comments." Jeff said. They drove in awkward silence until Jeff's seething anger finally boiled over a few minutes later. "I can't believe I didn't win!" He punched the roof of the car. "I mean, Mike the Murderer is just a cheap knock-off of me! If they were going to give it to someone who cut a smile into his own face and cut off his own eyelids then they should've just given it to me! You know what? Who cares! I'll win next year for sure. In fact, I'm going to start a new killing spree right now!"
"Jeff, it's been a long night, can we just go home?"
"No!" Jeff said. "Get my agent on Zoom. I don't want to wait."
"Sure," Janet said unenthusiastically as she pulled her phone from her purse. 
Her fingers glided over the screen as she placed a Zoom call to Jeff's agent Morty. Soon, Morty was on the line. "Hey Jeff," he said with a yawn. "How did the awards show go?"
"Weren't you watching it? Some agent!" Jeff said. 
"Look Jeff, it's late, and judging by your attitude I'm going to take a stab and say that you didn't win."
"Well then you got at least one thing right this year. Look Morty, you need to find me something bigger, something better. You should've known that a sorority house slaughter would be too passé. Give me a group of people to slaughter, and give it to me now!"
"Now?" Morty looked at his watch. "It's Ten PM on a Sunday. What do you think is out there?"
"There's got to be something."
Morty glanced down at his computer and typed. "Well I see there's three punks hanging out by the Griffith Observatory. You could stab them, maybe take their clothes or something?"
"That's all you got, Mort?"
"Yeah Jeff, that's all that's available tonight anyway. Look, just go home and get some rest. That's what's best for you."
"Okay, but I'm calling you in the morning and I want you to have something for me."
Morty paused and contemplated his next words carefully. "Don't contact me in the morning, Jeff. I gotta be honest with you, I called in every last favor I had just to get you this nomination. They really didn't want to have you there tonight. I practically had to beg them."
"What do you mean, Mort? Are you serious?"
"Jeff, you've gone out of style. The fans today are more sophisticated. They just don't appreciate a good knife-slashing anymore. The newer murderers all kill in creative ways. They record their kills and put them on Tik-Tok. You? You stab people and just wait for the traditional press to discover it. You're outdated, and I hate to say it, but you're also getting... old."
Mort's words cut deeper than any knife ever could have. Jeff opened his mouth to argue, but in the end he knew Morty was only being honest with him. "Yeah Mort, I guess you're right." He ended the call and let the phone fall to the floor of the car. 
Janet put her arm around Jeff. "Hey Jeff, let's go home and we'll all eat a gallon of ice cream. Would that make you feel better?"
Jeff didn't answer, and instead just stared out the window in silence for the rest of the ride home.
"Rise and shine," Janet said as she entered Jeff's bedroom and pushed open the curtains. "We're burning daylight!"
Jeff covered his head with a pillow. "Argh Janet what are you doing?"
"You've been cooped up in this room for a week. You gotta get over that whole award-show thing."
"Not now, Janet. Close the curtains, please." 
"No can do, Jeff. Maybe you've forgotten, but today we're filming commercials."
"Oh God is that today?'
"Yep! You're due on the set in two hours."
Jeff put the pillow back over his head. "I don't want to."
"Jeff, how long has it been since you killed someone?"
"I dunno, like two months maybe?"
"Okay well that's far too long to go between killings. Let's find someone for you to kill and maybe that will cheer you up."
"Who? I don't feel like going out."
Janet glanced out the bedroom window and noticed some movement in the yard next door. "How about her?" she said, pointing to their neighbor Jaqueline.
Jeff looked outside. "Ugh, how old is she? Like twenty-five? I don't kill grandmas."
"Jeff, YOU'RE twenty-five, and it's not old!"
"Don't remind me. You're just making me more depressed." He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. "Am I losing my hair?" he said as he focused in on his reflection and pushed his hair back. "Look at my hairline. Is it receding?"
"Jeff, don't be ridiculous. Your hair is fine." Janet walked over to the window opened it. "Hey Jaqueline, could you come over here for a minute? You can let yourself in." Jaqueline smiled and nodded.
Janet turned back toward Jeff. "Okay she's on her way. I think it's just what you need." She went to Jeff's knife drawer and pulled out a big butcher blade. "Here, take this and gut her like a fish when she gets here."
Jeff held the knife loosely in his hand, looking at it as if it was a long-lost friend who he wasn't quite sure he wanted to talk to. 
"Hello?" Jaqueline asked as she poked her head into the house. 
"We're in here!" Janet shouted over her shoulder.
A moment later Jaqueline stuck her head into the bedroom. "Hi guys! What's up?"
"Well Jeff here has been just a little depressed lately, and I think you're just the thing that might cheer him up," Janet said. 
Jaqueline eyed the large knife in Jeff's hand. "Oh my God!" she squealed gleefully. "Are you going to kill me? That would be so AWESOME!"
Jeff looked down at the knife. "Well I... I'm not too sure if that's really what I need right now."
Jaqueline's smile faded. "But Jeff, I'm such a huge fan of yours. That's why I moved next door to you. I was hoping that one day I might become part of your life, or maybe you might kill me. I been waiting for this day for so long. I've just been too shy to approach you!"
"Oh God you're one of those rabid fangirls," Jeff said.
"No Jeff. I'm so much more!" she said as she lunged forward and impaled herself on the knife Jeff was holding. She gave a wide smile as blood erupted out of her mouth and ran down her throat. "This is the best day of my life!" she gurgled.
Jeff glanced over at Janet. "Did this really just happen?" he asked.
Jaqueline, her energy fading fast, made one last request of Jeff. "Say it. Say the line."
Ignoring Jaqueline's request, Jeff dropped the knife, allowing the dying woman to fall to the floor along with it. "I should probably take a shower before we hit up the studio," he said to Janet. 
"Jeff, don't just leave her there like that, she was a huge fan. At least say the line for her."
Jeff glanced down at Jaqueline as she took her remaining breaths. "Oh yeah, uh go to sleep or something like that."
"Thank you..." Jaqueline said as a large fart escaped her dying body. 
"What a mess," Jeff said. "Jar Jar!" he yelled to the other room. "Get in here and clean this crap up."
Jar Jar entered and saw the mess. "Whatsa you want me to do with this, Jeffy? Trash day notta til Tuesday."
"Oh my God, Jar Jar. Do I have to think of everything? Here, I'll give you a freebie since you're new here - Chop her up into little bits and feed her into the garbage disposal."
"Yousa got it, Jeffy!" Jar Jar grabbed the dead woman by the arm and dragged her from the room.
"That didn't help at all," Jeff said as he started undressing for his shower.
"Don't you see Jeff? People still love you, even if you lost seven straight times for Killer of the Year. Trophies don't matter to the real fans."
"I don't know. I got no thrill from that at all. Morty was right. I'm just a washed-up killer whose best days are way behind him. Sure, I still have a few fans, but does that really matter?"
Janet sighed. "Well I tried, but for now we have some commercials to film. The rent won't pay itself."
Jeff stepped into his bathroom and turned the shower on. "Alright, give me a few minutes and I'll be ready to go."
"Perfect!" Janet said. 
From the kitchen, the sound of the garbage disposal turning on could be heard.
The director of the commercial looked at the scene in front of him and decided everything was ready to go. "And action!" he said. 
Jeff, standing in front of a mock-up of a dentist office, regurgitated his lines from memory. "Hi, I'm Jeff the Killer. You may know me from slayings such as the Lakewood Butchery or the Sorority House Slayings, but today I'm here to talk to you about something much more important. Teeth. You see, when you have a smile as wide as mine, proper dental care is one of the most important things in your life. That's why I go to the offices of Dr. Blake Miller. He's the best dentist in all of L.A. and Orange County and..." 
While Jeff continued to extoll the virtues of Dr. Blake, Janet and Jar Jar stood off in the background. "He doessa commercials for a Dentist?" Jar Jar whispered.
"Yeah. It may not be glamourous, but it pays the bills." 
"It Seemsa a bit below him."
"Well he used to have some pretty big-name endorsements. You ever heard of Nike? He had his own shoe – the Killer 500s. Four years ago they even outsold Jordans."
Back on the set, Jeff finished his lines. 
"And cut!" the director said. "That was great Jeff. Let's keep going." A couple of production assistants whisked in behind Jeff and rolled the dentist office mock-up out of the frame, while a new mock-up, this one of a beauty shop, was rolled in behind it.
"Do you need to rehearse this next one, Jeff?" the director asked.
"No no I got it," Jeff said. "Let's keep moving."
"And action!"
"Hi, I'm Jeff the Killer. You may know me from slayings such as the Lakewood Butchery or the Sorority House Slayings, but today I'm here to talk to you about something much more important. Your skin. You see, when you're as pale as me, a good sun protection is one of the most important things in your life. That's why I always go to Jill's Body Lotion Shop on Sepulveda Boulevard to pick up some sunscreen..."
Janet continued to whisper to Jar Jar. "Apple, Disney, Sony – he did endorsements for all of them, but after a while, the big companies just stopped calling. I mean, why pay Jeff when Electric Sandy is available at half the price? I do my best to keep Jeff's spirits up, but I'm starting to think that maybe he's right." She looked at the once-glorious killer in front of her, a former Nike spokesperson now pitching local businesses in late-night TV ads.
"Wow. Thatsa a long fall. What happened to allsa money Jeff earned?"
"Lawsuits. It might be hard to believe, but there are actually a few people who don't want to be murdered by a celebrity killer. You attack one wrong person and BAM! There goes a million dollars."
"Thatsa very unfortunate."
"Yeah Jar Jar, there are some twisted people out there."
A deep funk reigned over the bungalow that Jeff, Janet and Jar Jar all shared. Janet had given up on trying to cheer Jeff, and she too was starting to lose her enthusiasm for the business of killing. A half-empty pizza box sat on the coffee table in their living room, while the three of them sat around lazily watching TV.
"Did those checks all clear?" Jeff asked as he saw one of his commercials light up the TV.
"Yep. You've been paid for all your endorsements. We should be good for a while."
"Great. So what do you guys wanna do tomorrow?"
"I dunno," Janet answered.
"Meesa neither, Jeffy."
Suddenly, Janet's phone rang. "It's a Zoom call," she said as she looked at the screen. "Oh my God, it's HIM!"
"You don't mean..."
"I'm going to patch it through to the TV."
"No, I don't want to talk to that asshole," Jeff said.
"He's your friend. I'm putting him through." Janet made a few quick swipes on her phone a moment later the TV screen on the wall sprang to life. A dark figure, with many spindly hands, appeared on the monitor.
"I told you I didn't want to talk to that jerk!" Jeff glanced at the monitor and saw that he was live. "Oh, hey there Slendy! I wasn't expecting to hear from you. How's retirement going?"
Slenderman nodded agreeably, then pointed directly at the camera before moving his finger downward.
"Oh, you heard that I was feeling down? Who told you that?"
Slenderman traced an M in the air with his finger.
"Oh yeah, Morty. I should've figured." Jeff paused and decided to be honest with his old frenemy. "Well I guess it's true. The old days are long gone. Remember when you and I were the only game in town?"
Slenderman picked up his camera and pointed it at his trophy wall, showing off the six Killer of the Year trophies he'd won. 
"Yeah I guess you do remember. So what are you calling for, old friend?"
Slenderman again pointed directly at the camera, and then pointed out of his window, where a beautiful beach could be seen in the distance. He then made a wave motion with his hand.
"You want me to come visit you in Hawaii and do some soul surfing with you?"
Slenderman nodded yes, and then pointed to his head.
"You say it will clear my head?"
Slenderman nodded again.
Jeff took a moment to consider the offer. "You know what? Why not? It certainly couldn't hurt." He looked over to Janet. "Book us three tickets to Hawaii." He looked back at the screen. "See you in a few days, Slendy. And thanks, man." Jeff walked off to his room, with a little more hop in his step than normal. 
Janet shut off the television. "Jar Jar, book us three tickets to Hawaii! She glanced to see if Jeff was out of the room. "First class," she whispered. Then she too went to her room.
Hawaii, of course, was beautiful. They arrived a few days after speaking with Slenderman and were met at the airport by an Uber driver hired by Slendy himself. Slendy's apartment was understated, save for his award wall, which featured not only his six Killer of the Year trophies, but also his All Valley Karate Tournament trophy. Jeff rolled his eyes at the showy display when Slenderman wasn't looking. 
Janet looked out the window to the beach just a hundred yards away. "Wow what a view," she said. "When do we get to go surfing?"
Slenderman pointed out the window to the clear sky, and then pointed at his head.
"We have to clear our heads first? she asked.
Slenderman nodded and pulled a large joint out of his pocket. 
"Now you're talkin'!" Janet said eagerly as the three visitors sat down and partook in Slendy's personal stash.
The surfing was great, with the only downside being that Jeff had to stop every half hour to reapply another bottle of sunscreen. Jar Jar hung ten, Janet busted a 360 and Jeff totally got tubed. Slendy avoided the showy tricks and seemed to be happiest with a straightforward ride. In-between sets, Janet and Jeff bobbed among the waves, talking among themselves. "You know," Jeff said, "this is pretty nice. I can see why Slendy decided to come out here. Great waves, great food, great weed. Not bad at all." 
Janet surveyed paradise. "Yeah it is pretty nice out here and OH MY GOD WHAT IS THAT?" She pointed desperately to a spot on the water right behind Slenderman.
Jeff looked to where she was pointing. "I don't see anythi... OH MY GOD IT'S A SHARK!"
Both Jeff and Janet waved their hands frantically, trying their best to get Slendy to turn around and see the shark that was rapidly closing in on him. Slendy, who was too far away to understand their yells, simply waved back and made a "hang loose" sign with his hand. 
"Let's get the Hell out of here!" Jeff yelled. "Hopefully Slendy will follow us." They made it to shore right after Jar Jar, who had also noticed the shark and hightailed it to the sand. All three turned and tried their best to wave Slendy to shore, but in his blissful and peaceful ignorance, he failed to receive the message. 
Janet closed her eyes and looked away as the shark breached the water only a couple of feet behind Slenderman, who turned around only when it was too late. The shark landed on top of him with a heavy thud and knocked him off his board. From the shore, the three friends heard something they never thought that they'd never, ever here – Slenderman screaming. The scream, which could best be described as a cross between a crying three-year-old and a squealing pig, sounded out across the water as Slenderman struggled to extract himself from the jaws of the shark. "Ayyeeeeee, don't let it eat meeeee!" he screamed in vain. The shark munched down on the six-time recipient of the Killer-of-the-Year award, quickly reducing him to a slick patch of chum floating on the surface of the water. When it was done with its meal, the shark gave a quick burp and disappeared under the surface of the water. 
"Wow," Janet said. "Just... wow. Did you see that?"
"See?" Jeff asked. "What about hear? He sounded like a school child in distress. I didn't even know he could talk."
"Meesa no know that either," Jar Jar chimed in. 
As they stood on the sand, a couple of Slenderman's dismembered tentacles washed up on the shore and brushed against their ankles. Janet looked down and lifted her foot out of the way. "Gross," she said. "I don't feel like surfing anymore, let's get out of here."
"Yeah I agree," Jeff said. "Let's get the Hell out of here."
They made their way back to Slenderman's apartment in a gloomy mood. "Well what now?" Janet asked as they let themselves in.
"I don't know. I just feel kinda lost right now," Jeff replied. 
They spent the rest of the day in a funk. Jeff couldn't decide what he found more disappointing – the fact that Slenderman had gotten eaten by a shark, or the fact that this whole time he had been capable of speech but had hid it because his voice was so whiny. It was a lot to take in. 
Jar Jar, who didn't seem as affected as the other two, promptly started going through Slenderman's belongings in an attempt to find something that might hold his interest for the night. After a few minutes, he emerged from Slenderman's bedroom with a giant box of porno mags and a bag of primo Hawaiian ganja. 
"Oh man," Jeff said. "I can smell that from here. That jackass was giving us the second-rate stuff and keeping all the good greenery for himself."
Soon, a grey cloud of smoke enveloped the room as the three burned through Slendy's stash. Jeff, flipping through one of the mags, tossed it aside in disgust. "I can't believe Slendy was into this demeaning type of stuff. It's just one let down after another with this guy. I bet the only reason he even invited us out here is because he wanted everyone to know what a cool, chill guy he had become."
"Yeah," Janet said, "I guess that in the end he was all too human, even if he wasn't really human."
Jar Jar, who had raided Slendy's closet, emerged from the bedroom wearing one of the multi-armed suits that he'd found hanging up. "Oh look at me!" he said in a mock tone while waving his arms around. "Imma Slenderman and Imma get eaten by a shark!"
Jeff, who had been drinking an Orange Fanta, spit it out of his nose in laughter while Janet guffawed like a donkey at the sight of Jar Jar's impression. Once he was finally able to stop laughing, Jeff caught his breath and addressed the other two. "Okay guys let's just be serious here for a moment. Slendy might've been a douche, but I think that maybe he was right. I just needed to clear my head. I think I know what I have to do now."
"What are you thinking, Jeff?"
"I don't wanna say just yet, but I'm coming up with a plan, and I think it might be a good one. Janet, book us some flights back for tomorrow. I don't want to waste any more time in this magnificent shit-hole." He laid himself down on the couch and closed his eyes. 
Janet turned to Jar Jar. "Book us three flights back for tomorrow, Jar Jar." Then she too found a spot to lie down and closed her eyes.
They made it back to their home in an uneventful fashion, with Jeff deep in thought for the entire journey. Finally, after watching him for hours and waiting for him to spell out his plan, Janet couldn't take it any longer. "What are you going to do, Jeff?" she demanded.
Jeff took a deep breath as he mentally put the final touches to his plan. "Well, when I saw Slenderman get eaten, I realized just how delicate all of us killers really are. We're just as mortal as any of the people we kill, and we only seem so overpowered because of our mythic status."
"What are you saying, Jeff?" Janet asked.
"I'm gonna kill all those bastards!" Jeff said. 
"Who?"
"All the killers who I compete with. Mike the Murderer, Boiling Karen, Crybaby. Why not?"
"Uh, is that even legal?" Janet asked. 
Jeff stroked his chin in contemplation. "Well I read through the entire killer rulebook, and I didn't see anything saying I can't do it. Perhaps it's frowned upon, but certainly not against the rules."
"That's some pretty radical thinking, Jeff."
"I know right!? And not only am I going to kill them, I'm going to kill them by using their own weapons against them, just to make it even more memorable. I'm going to choke Mike with his own rope. I'm going to cook Karen in her own pot, and I'm going to make Crybaby eat his own razors until his stomach explodes. After I'm done, nobody can call me a one-trick-stabby-pony ever again."
"Okay Jeff, count me in. As your personal assistant I'll do whatever I need to do to help."
Jar Jar chimed in. "And as Janet's personal assistant, meesa help you too."
"Okay, so we're all on-board." Jeff motioned them to come closer. "Gather in, because here's the plan."
Deep down in her dungeon, amid screams of pain and torture, Boiling Karen heard her phone chime, indicating that a text message had just arrived. She glanced down at her phone and read it – I've always had a crush on you. Meet me at my warehouse – Jeff tK
She looked around at her multitude of giant boiling pots, each one containing a victim in various stages of cookery. Some were already dead in the boiling water, some were to the midpoint and just starting to turn red, and others were still enjoying a jacuzzi-like experience, with their pots not fully heated up yet. She looked at the clock on her phone – it would be at least an hour before all of them were cooked, but an invite from Jeff was not something she could simply ignore. After all, he was the one who inspired her to go into the killing business in the first place. "Hey everyone!" she said to those victims who were still alive. "I'll be back in a little while. Just stay put. Okay?" A moment later, she was gone.
She arrived at Jeff's warehouse in Culver City about half an hour later. "Hello? She said as she pushed the door open. "Jeff are you in here?"
"Come around to the back," Jeff replied. 
Karen walked inside the warehouse, giving herself a moment to allow her eyes to adjust to the dim light. As she made her way further in, she saw Jeff standing next to something she recognized. "Hey that's one of my boiling pots," she said. "My biggest one actually. I once boiled an entire baseball team in there."
"Yes," said Jeff. "I pulled it out of that storage unit you rent and had it trucked over here. It wasn't cheap, by the way. This thing's bigger than my bedroom."
"But why would you do that?" She asked. "Especially without my permission."
"Because I thought you and I could maybe go for a swim." Jeff climbed up a ladder that was perched against the side of the enormous pot and jumped in with a splash.
Karen scratched her head. "Jeff, I see a bunch of firewood under this pot. Are you going to start a fire once I jump in?"
"I dunno. Maybe," Jeff said as he floated lazily on his back. "Maybe not."
"I don't know how I feel about this Jeff. I mean, two or three years ago I'd have jumped at the chance to be killed by you. But now, I have so much going on. I really think that I might win Killer of the Year this time around."
Yeah that's the problem, Jeff thought. "Hey why don't you just come up here and we'll talk about it. No pressure."
Karen sighed and climbed up the ladder. "I swear if you were anyone else I would just leave." She jumped in and soon found herself floating alongside Jeff. 
"Hey I bought you a gift!" Jeff said. He reached into his swim trunks and pulled out a diary, which he then handed to her. "I had the pages laminated so they would be waterproof," he explained. "And here's a grease pen for you to write with. I know your feelings are pretty complicated right now, so I thought that maybe if you did a little journaling it might help you get your thoughts straight."
"Wow that was very kind of you," Karen said. "And you know, I think that might be just the thing I need right now. I love journaling!" 
"Yes, I'm aware of that," Jeff said. "So anyway, just take a few minutes to write about your feelings. I uh.. have to go to the bathroom. I'll be right back." Jeff swam over to the side of the giant pot and pulled himself over the edge. He used the ladder to get to the ground. As soon as he was down, Janet ran over to him and handed him a lighter, which he quickly used to set the wood on fire. 
Oblivious to what was happening below, Karen floated over to the side of the pot and began writing in her new book. It was difficult to write while in the water, but she loved journaling so much that she still managed. Dear Diary. She wrote. OMG JEFF said he had a crush on me!!!! I went over to his warehouse and now I'm swimming in one of my own pots! I should probably start at the beginning. Ever since I was young I was always looking for my place in this world....
She wrote and wrote and wrote and wrote and wrote. Meanwhile Jeff headed to the back entrance of his warehouse, where Crybaby's arrival was imminent. He quickly dried himself off and changed into his signature outfit. Just as he was finishing, he heard Crybaby come up behind him. "Uh, I got a text that you wanted to see me?" 
Jeff turned around to see the truly disturbing sight that was Crybaby, a grown man who inexplicably looked like a giant baby. "Uh yeah," Jeff said. "My friends and I have having a cookout." Jeff snapped his fingers, at which point Jar Jar wheeled out a barbeque. "We thought you might like to join us for some hamburgers."
"Well this is unexpected," Crybaby said. "But I do love hamburgers."
"Yes, I'm aware of that," Jeff said. "My assistant is a top-notch researcher and had learned everything about you."
Jar Jar started cooking the hamburgers, which caused Crybaby to sniff the air. "Wow those smell good."
"Yes, I'm aware of that," Jeff said. "My assistant's assistant is a top-notch cook." 
Jar Jar used a spatula to pull one of the hamburger patties from the grill. He slathered some sauce on it and put it between some buns. "Heresa you go!" he said as he handed it to Crybaby. He pulled another patty off the grill and prepared it in the same way. This one he handed to Jeff. "This one isa safe," he whispered to Jeff.
The hamburgers were delicious, and Crybaby, despite having the stomach of a baby, downed fifteen of them before he felt a strange rumbling in his stomach. "Hey, wait a minute," he said as he took a closer look the hamburger in his hand. He jammed his finger into the patty and pulled out a razorblade. "Do these hamburgers all have razors in them?"
"Yes," Jeff said. "Well not this one here." Jeff held up his own hamburger. "But all the ones we've given to you, yes."
Crybaby looked at his burger. "Can I have one that doesn't have razors in it?"
"No," said Jeff. "But you're welcome to have as many razor-burgers as you want."
Crybaby took another huge bite of his burger. "Okay fine. These are just too good to pass up."
It took thirty hamburgers in total, but eventually Crybaby crumbled to the ground with a gurgle as the all the razorblades he'd ingested cut their way through his stomach, spilling forth with a sickening display of twisted metal and half-digested meat patties. 
Janet exited the warehouse and stepped over Crybaby's body. "I just checked on Karen. She's dead, Jeff."
"Okay great. That just leaves us with Mike the Murderer, who should be here any second."
Jeff's prediction was spot on, as Mike came walking up to the warehouse's back entrance at that exact moment. "Whoa!" Mike exclaimed. "Is that Crybaby? What happened to him?"
"Indigestion," said Jeff.
"Duuuude, what a bummer," Mike said. "I really liked that guy."
"Well then this is going to work out great," Jeff said. "Because you're going to be joining him in Hell really soon."
"So that's what this is all about? I get a text message telling me that you want to talk, and really you just want to kill me?"
"Well yeah," Jeff said. "Is there a problem with that?"
"Well of course there's a problem with it. I don't want to die!"
Jeff rolled his eyes. "Oh so you're one of THOSE people – a complainer. Why don't you be a good little victim and just go silently into the night like Karen and Crybaby?"
"What? No!" Mike said.
"Oh geez, can't you just step inside my warehouse? I have a whole intricate death planned out for you involving a mile of rope and a bunch of other crap that I stole from your house. I used it all to make a giant Rube-Goldberg device that ends with you getting strung up by your neck."
"Oh so that's where that stuff went. Well sorry Jeff, I'm outta here." Mike turned and started walking away. 
"Like Hell you are!" Jeff said as he lunged at Mike. He put Mike in a headlock and pulled a piece of rope from his pocket. "Good thing I have a plan B!" he said as he wrapped it around Mike's throat.
"You're crazy, man," Mike said as the air began leaving his lungs. Jeff simply tightened the rope as Mike began to panic. "I'll do anything," he wheezed. "Please, just let me go."
Jeff pulled the rope even tighter. "There's only one thing you can do for me, Mike."
"Anything, just name it," Mike gasped as his eyes bulged out of his head.
"Go to sleep!" Jeff said as he pulled the rope until he heard the cracking of Mike's neck. He let go victoriously as Mike's limp body fell to the ground. "Let's see who wins killer of the year now."
The time came that once again, the world's most beloved mass-murderers gathered for their annual awards ceremony. And again, Jeff sat anxiously in his chair waiting for Electric Sandy and Bill the Sadistic Clown to get through their insipid, scripted banter. 
Finally, the moment of truth arrived as Sandy finally began read off the names of those who had been nominated for Killer of the Year. "Our first nominee is Jeff the Killer, for the murder of three other mass murderers." Behind her, images of carnage flashed. There was Karen, floating face down in her own boiling pot, red as a lobster and dead as a doornail. The was Crybaby, lying flat on the ground with his stomach torn open from the inside. And finally there was Mike the Murderer, with red and blue ligature marks all around his neck and his tongue hanging out. The audience politely clapped as the images flickered across the screen. 
Sandy waited for the sparse applause to stop before reading the name of the only other nominee. "And second, we have North Korean dictator Kim Jung Un, who caused the deaths of nearly four-billion people by launching a nuclear strike against the West and starting World War III."
Jeff sat stoically in the audience as Sandy opened the envelope.
"And the winner is... Kim Jung Un!" She said.
Sparse applause greeted the announcement. Indeed, with so many people dead from the nuclear strikes, the pavilion was at only a quarter capacity. Kim Jung Un stood from his seat and walked to the podium to accept his award. Each individual step he took could be heard in the large, echo-prone auditorium. 
"Let's get out of here," Jeff said to Janet and Jar Jar as he stood up and began walking out.
As they left the pavilion, they could hear part of Kim Jung Un's speech... "and I would like to thank myself most of all..." but soon they were out on the sidewalk and out of hearing range. 
Janet softly stroked Jeff's arm. "I'm sorry Jeff. They're all a bunch of idiots. We all know who the best killer is."
"You know, Janet. It's okay. I'm not actually that upset."
"You're not?"
"No. I mean, the guy had to kill four-billion people to even stand a chance against me. That's pretty impressive, you know? And he even live-streamed the nuclear attack on Twitch like he was playing a video game. I gotta admit that was a pretty sick move."
"Yeah all the kids really liked that," Janet said. 
A passerby stopped when he recognized Jeff. "Hey man you're Jeff the Killer!"
"Sure am," said Jeff.
"Wow I've been a big fan for a long time. Hey check out my kicks!"
Jeff looked at the man's feet. "Is that a pair of Killer 500s?"
"Yeah dude they're my favorite sneakers. Do you mind if I get a pic with you? 
"No problem!" Jeff responded. 
With a huge grin, the man pulled out his phone and snapped a picture of the two of them. "Thanks, man! My friends are gonna be so jealous when they find out I met you."
"Alright, take care!" Jeff said as the smiling man walked off. "See?" he said as he turned back to Janet. That's what it should all be about. The fans."
"I think I tried to tell you something like that last year."
"Yeah you did, but it's something I had to discover for myself. It all kind of fell into place once I rediscovered my love of killing."
"Okay Jeff," Janet said, "now that you've rediscovered your love for killing AND you've gotten your focus back, what are your plans?"
"Well there's not much killing left to do around here. Good ole Kim Jung Un pretty much took care of that. Besides, all this radiation sickness is good for my complexion. Check it out, my skin almost looks normal now, which I really hate."
Jar Jar chimed in. "Weesa can leave here and go to a parallel universe. Find a place where yousa can do lotsa killing."
"Just how would we do that, Jar Jar?"
"I lefta the Star Wars universe because mesa was a totally horrible character. Meesa wanted to find a place where meesa could be loved. Meesa stole the Millennium Falcon and installed a trans-universe drive. Weesa can go to any universe, and to any time."
"Wait," Jeff said, "this whole time you've had access to a starship, and you let me pay for three first class tickets to fly to Hawaii?"
"Yousa never asked me if I had a starship," Jar Jar responded.
"Okay I guess it really doesn't matter at this point. Let's just get the Hell out of this shithole universe and find an Earth that hasn't been nuked."
They were able to walk to the Millennium Falcon, which Jar Jar had parked in a nearby alley. Jar Jar pushed his remote control and the entrance ramp opened up, allowing the three to step inside and make their way to the cockpit. 
"Spool up the transuniverse drive Jar Jar," Jeff directed. "Janet, use the nav-computer to find a universe where we can get a new start. Let's make it challenging, maybe someplace where being a high-profile killer makes you scary instead of popular. Wouldn't that be a nice change?"
"How about a universe where you can be scary AND popular?" Janet said as she pointed to a spot on the nav-computer display. "I think this universe right here might be just what we're looking for, and it might even send us back in time about a decade. It's pretty similar to our universe, but they have seven days in week instead of eight. Oh, and uh, no Gunguns, Jar Jar. You'll have to go underground."
"Itsa okay," Jar Jar said as he fired up the engines. "Meesa spend time in hiding to finally follow my dream of becoming bigsa most famous writer."
"What are you going to write about Jar Jar?" Jeff asked.
"Yousa!" 
"Jar Jar, you're a horrible writer, but I somehow get the feeling you'll make it all somehow work out."
"Meesa think so too, Jeffy."
"Let's go," Jeff said as the Millennium Falcon lifted off. "Punch it Jar Jar!" And with that, they were gone.
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