"Flash Me the Winning Smile"

In 1942 Adrian Botwovski was acquitted of all charges. He was arrested for five homicides in which he slowly dismembered and disembowled five female Polish immigrants who lived in the same neighborhood. His winning smile somehow lead to his full acquittal to the shock and anger of the families of the deceased.

Amateur. Brash and brutish. Going STRAIGHT to the gutting!? Bah. It has none of the flourish and true artistic beauty that comes from tenderly grasping, caressing, revering and almost worshipping each organ as you remove it. And he forgot to remove the eyes.

In 1967 Michael Sorton was somehow miraculously acquitted by unanymous vote of the jury even though he stood ground for one charge of assault and one charge of murder. HIs infamous blinding of Lucinda Forrester with binoculars that had blades in the lenses and his even more infamous killing of Margaret Doyle with a bear trap set in the pillow will have to face no repercussions. The jury foreman was later reported talking about his winning smile.

Subtle, and treating the kill or the torture more like a true art form, a find Rembrandt (that, in a literal sense, the Lucinda girl will never have a chance to enjoy again). But too impersonal. And he burst the Lucinda girl's eyes instead of removing them with dignity and grace! Does the fool not know the beauty of a freshly harvested eye!?

In 1988, Allistair Cheney was arrested for the manipulation of fifteen girls into the ritualistic murder of eight other girls; he is also suspected of the rape-murder of 28 young boys in his hometown of Shenuba, Georgia. He was aquitted, surprisingly and to the shock and hatrid of the American public, his winning smile won the hearts of the jury in a manner similar to the Botwovski and Storton cases of the 40s and 60s.

This man! This man disgraces all serial killers everywhere! What happened to the kids aside--though I prefer to leave the canvas that is the body of my victim untainted with foolish disgusting portrayals of lust and power other than the work of my knife--but this person has the gall-! Having others do the killing for you! Switching between a set group of targets and modus operandi!? Where's the uniformity!? Where's the art?! The pizzazz--it's like carving one of Shakespeare's sonnets into a man's back and he's treating it like Dr. Seuss's Book of Masochism! I would kill this man and make him eat his own testicles had he not been shot by an angered and vengeful police officer not one month later!

How any of these men call themselves "killers" is beyond me, and the worst thing of it all is they get off with a paltry, insignificant mortal smile! Oh... oh I assure you My smile is a lot better, and my methods, well, you know my methods by now, don't you? Well, most of them.

Come on now--don't whine, nobody can hear you under that gag and you couldn't see your way out either--let's see if I can't turn carve skin and flesh into a magnum opus of true beauty.

"An Unnatural Smile"

You open the door to find a man. He smiles. It is not a normal smile. It is too long, and far too wide, stretching across the man’s face. It makes you feel sick. It makes you want to scream. You try to look away, but you can't. That smile is eternal. That smile is forever. You look towards his hands, which he holds out in a gesture of offering. He has a single, red rose, just for you. It is an offering of death. You blink. You see that the flower has changed, and the man now holds bouquet of chrysanthemums in full bloom. Again you blink, and he now holds hyacinths of different shades. Then you close your eyes, as if trying to will this monster away.

When you open them, you find yourself standing in a field of flowers. It seems to stretch forever, a vast sight of colours and smells. Cherry blossoms float in the breeze, as the flowers around you sway. Then you see the man again, except he is different. His face is different. But his smile is the same. You realise that you recognise the face. It is the face of someone you once knew, a boy who had a crush on you; who followed you all the time; who wouldn't leave you alone. He loved you, yet you hated him. You hated the way he acted, the way he talked, and the way he made you feel. The smile grows wider, on the face that doesn’t belong. You remember his name, Jason, as clear as day. He followed you all summer, until you got a restraining order. You removed him from your life. Then he killed himself, blaming you, and leaving only guilt.

When this sinks in, you try to scream. Except, you find you can't. As you mouth opens, cherry blossoms pour out. You can feel them in your throat, as you slowly begin to choke. The breeze picks up, and the petals in the air begin to thrash about. The flowers on the ground remain perfectly still. As the petals whip about, they cut at you, drawing blood. The cuts grow and grow, staining everything red. You look at the man, through the haze of petals and the blood that covers you face. He has changed again. His tussled shock of hair is red, and his dark, cold eyes shine with intense madness. But all that pales to his smile. It stretches and bends, and doesn't belong. It fills his face. It goes beyond his face. As you choke on the petals, and feed the flowers with your blood, you are enrapt by that smile. And you still try to scream as it swallows you whole.

"Embrace The Suck"

"Oh, Edward!" Bella said.

"Oh, Bella!" Edward said.

"Oh yuck," I said. "Why are we watching this anyway?"

"Because," Tanya said, "it's an awesome movie. I don't know why you don't like it, Shauna. I mean, have you seen Edward? Isn't he just yummy?"

"Sure, he's cute, I guess," I said. "But he watches her sleep. Doesn't that strike you as a bit...rapey?"

But Tanya wasn't listening to me anymore. She was back to watching the movie and being engrossed in Edward's dreamy blue eyes.

Engrossed was right, emphasis on the 'gross.'

After the movie was over, Tanya turned me and said, "So, I guess I have a secret admirer."

"Really?" I asked.

"Yeah," she said. "I found these flowers in my locker today. I mean, I know it's Valentine's Day and everything, but I didn't expect flowers."

"What kind were they?" I asked.

"I don't know," she said. "I'm not a flower expert."

"And you don't know who could have given them to do?"

"I don't know," she said, as if that was her favorite phrase. "Could have been Josh. Or Richard. He's cute."

"Or maybe it's from Edward," I said. "And he wants to suck your blood and turn you into a vampire."

"Oh, I wish," Tanya said. "I would so love to be Edward's girlfriend and be with him for eternity. It would be so awesome."

It was then that the doorbell rang. "I'll get it," I said, since I didn't want to hear more of her Edward fantasies. I looked through the peephole, but no one was there, so I opened the door. On the doorstep was another bouquet of flowers. There wasn't a note.

Suddenly, I heard Tanya scream. I dropped the bouquet and ran back into the house.

I saw her struggling with a man, a man in with scraggly red hair wearing a straight jacket. She was trying to scream and he was covering her mouth. He turned to me and I saw his smile.

And I smiled back.

It hadn't been that hard, figuring out his MO, figuring out his next victim. Not when those other girls went missing. That's why I arranged this little movie night. I wanted to see him. I wanted to meet him.

I knew his eyes should have freaked me out, but they didn't. I wasn't like Tanya. Pale skin and a tortured soul did nothing for me.

I preferred a bad boy.

I watched as she stopped struggling and then became limp. And even though he probably didn't need it, I helped him move her body. I sneaked a glance at his smile every few minutes, like a teenage crush.

I can't help it. I just love happy endings.

"SMILING MAN PROXIES"

a dramatization presented by the Just Shoot The Panda players

Cast:

The Smiling Man
Proxy Candidate One
Proxy Candidate Two
A Bouquet

Directed by Allan Smithee

Scene: A dorm/house/apartment

Smiley: Hey there!
Proxy One: OH JESUS WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOUR FACE?!
Smiley: Lots of things. Anyway, I was wondering, is your spouse/child/best friend/beloved pet at home? I have this spare bouquet just kinda lying around.
Proxy One: A bouquet?
Smiley: Yeah, it's kind of my thing. Sort of a "torture you soon" gift. Are they around?
Proxy One: Oh God no please don't give that to them I'll do anything?
Smiley: Well, okay. Go here, and do this murder/kidnapping/pyramid scheme/ice cream social
Proxy One: And then what?
Smiley: Just, you know, chill out.
Proxy One: ...anything else.
Smiley: Oh, you know, just LOOK INTO MY MOTHERFUCKING EYES
Proxy One: OH JESUS I'M CRAZY NOW

Scene II: A school/business/back alley

Proxy Two: OH GOD YOUR FACE
Smiley: Isn't it lovely!? Say, I was in the neighborhood, thought I'd drop this bouquet off for your significant other/life partner/mistress. Is he/she/it/hir around? I have a busy schedule of heart removal and gardening ahead of me.
Proxy Two: Oh no, please, don't give them that...
Smiley: You twisted my arm! The bouquet stays with me...I just need a small favor. There's this guy, doing this murder/kidnapping/dog and pony show/petting zoo. I need you to go kill them.
Proxy Two: What?! I can't--
Smiley: Oh, hey, I suddenly find my not-hands putting this bouquet on this desk. I wonder how that happened.
Proxy Two: Okay! Okay! So...I just kill the guy? And my significant other/life partner is fine?
Smiley: Sure*, let's go with that. Also, LOOK INTO MY MOTHERFUCKING EYES
Proxy Two: OH GOD THE CRAZY

Scene Three:

Proxy Two--dead
Proxy One: Man, that ice cream social sure was easy. Except for this guy trying to kill me.
Smiley: Hi again!
Proxy One: Oh God!
Smiley: Huh. You lived. I guess I owe Archie twenty bucks.
Proxy One: What...what's going on?! You sent that person to kill me?!
Smiley: Yep!
Proxy: But why?! I did what you told me to! See?!
Smiley: Yeah, I don't really care about that anymore. I never really did, to be honest. So anyway, I need you to go to this town/city/village. There'll be this guy. You need to kill them, now.
Proxy: But, wait...did you tell this guy to just stand there and wait, too?
Smiley: Oh no, s/he knows you're coming.
Proxy: But...why? What does this even accomplish? Is there even a point to this?
Smiley: Of course, silly. It makes me smile.

CURTAIN

Starring Penny Balisong as the Smiling Man
Tara Tillinghast as Proxy One
Chelsea Balisong as Proxy Two

and introducing Jeanette "This is Stupid" Cotton as the bouquet.

"Dear Boss"

"Dear Mister CHIEF OF POLICE,

I on BEHALF of the "Magnolia Killer", as you have so deigned to name HIM, have sent you this letter to advise you to please CEASE CONTINUE the investigation of this case for your own safety IT WON'T MATTER.

There is more to this than you could EVER KNOW. You cannot expect anyone to be safe inside of their houses, HE WILL COME and he will TAKE them. When you return home from the station tonight, you will find that your daughter's closet is full of MAGNOLIAS, BABY'S BREATH and CYCLAMEN. You have never been able to SAVE anybody who has received one of HIS flowers. You will try, you will try so hard, and you will never give up FAIL.

Please do not dispose of this letter. You will NEED it. It hurts too much for it to have been in vain THERE’S NOTHING YOU CAN DO. THIS WAS ALL A JOKE, HA HA.

YOU SHOULD PRAY THAT YOU WERE THE FIRST ONE TO READ THIS."

The chief looked up from the letter, which appeared to be made out of cut-and-paste newspaper clippings like a cheesy old ransom note. He asked the officer that had handed him the open letter if this was some sort of sick joke, unwilling to believe a word on the page. The other man shook his head, his face an eerie colour of ivory in the dim fluorescent light of the station.

The chief looked back down to the letter, holding it up to the light. There were splatters of blood around the words that had been capitalized and the ones that had been struck out... then, accompanied by a strange noise between a choke and a sob, he realized that the 'clippings' were pressed flowers.

"Chrysanthemums"

Chrysanthemums. Someone had left chrysanthemums in her locker. And not just that. There was also hellebores and bluebonnets and even some forget-me-nots. It was a bouquet. She had a secret admirer.

This thought raced through her head as she went from class to class. A secret admirer. It was so exciting. It wasn't until the end of the day that she realized that her secret admirer might be someone she didn't like. What then? Reject him?

She frowned at the flowers before leaving them there and leaving the school. This was suddenly complicated. No, she needed to know now. Was it the cute boy in Biology? He smiled at her once. But he probably didn't even know her name. Was it one of the nerds in English? She didn't want to judge people based on appearance and she knew they were probably very nice, but still she hoped it was the boy from Biology.

As she walked home, she noticed a man standing across the street. He had unkept red hair and wore a dark coat that had very long sleeves, sleeves that went past his hands. He turned before she could see his face and walked the other way.

As she brushed her hair that night, she again thought of the flowers and who her secret admirer might be. She had texted her friend about the flowers and her friend had texted back that it was creepy. COULD B FROM NEBODY, the text said. EVN THE JANITOR.

She hadn't thought of that. She had been worrying that she wouldn't like her secret admirer, but what if it was worse than that? What if it was a teacher? She could tell her parents or the principal if it came down to that.

She didn't notice the man outside her window. She didn't see the smile.

The next morning, as she walked to school, she again saw the red-haired man with the long sleeves. He was holding something in his hand, however. She squinted and tried to see what he was holding.

Chrysanthemums. He was holding chrysanthemums.

He was across the street, but now he was in front of her. Now she could see his face, see his smile. It's too wide, she thought before screaming, how can it be so wide oh god.

When the police searched for her, the only thing they were able to find was her discarded bookbag. To their bewilderment, it was filled with chrysanthemums.