Have you ever looking in your rearview mirror and thought to yourself, "Oh, that guy is definitely a serial killer."? I have. Just yesterday, in fact. I looked up and saw reflected in that rectangular piece of glass a man who looked like the biologically impossible love child of John Wayne Gacy and the Unabomber. Seventies-era car spray painted flat black, Stars and Bars hanging from his own rearview mirror, beard like Uncle Jesse (the Dukes’ uncle, not the Tanner’s uncle) had stuck his hand in a light socket, dark sunglasses even though the day was dreary and overcast, and a scowl that screamed, "I brake for knife shops." It’s a pretty chilling sight when you’re just out and about and on the way to Wendy’s for a spicy chicken sandwich.
Has anyone disappeared in the West End lately? If so, I just described your suspect.
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