I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist.
I slice, I chop,
I cannot stop.
I chops, I slices,
Your body entices…
Ah, this cell; so nostalgic of a time I was, and still am, so fond of. The dark, damp, dingy basement that was so small it would even choke an agoraphobic. It wasn't the most practical working space, but it was the only space I had to use. Besides, it had become routine to use that space. It's where I carried out my very first killing, after all.
Oh, I beg your pardon; I'm prisoner number 32373, and this here is my cell. It's quite humorous, really: 3 times 2 times 37 times 3. Do you know what that totals? The answer is 666. Clearly I've been here for far too long, but my time is almost up now, anyway.
They say that when you die, your life flashes before your eyes, so as a prisoner on death row it only seems fitting for me to reminisce. I think back to my very first victim: my wife. God, women sure can nag, and that woman was no exception! In fact, she was probably the epitome of naggers! In retrospect, perhaps it was her that influenced all of my victims to be women. That and women are just so feeble, so weak, so helpless. My victims were hapless. It's also said to be in a woman's nature to be nurturing, soft-spoken, genteel, but really, it's just a myth.
Don't get me wrong, I did love my wife. I loved almost everything about her. Her hair was so beautiful; her eyes were a startling blue; her face, the perfect shape. I loved how she was kind (at times), compassionate, thoughtful, hard working. I loved how finely I could slice her body until she was mere building blocks and tear up her flesh. Hah, that shut the hag up!
I do like to think I'm a people person, but few people enjoy my company any more. I consider myself quite a frivolous person; I would go out at night and play games like 'doctors'. Well, it was more like surgery, but it's the same difference. Some women sure were horrid, though. If I removed their gag (before I killed them, obviously), they would brand me as 'a devil', 'wicked', 'a sadist', 'villainous', and they would even present me with some more colourful euphemisms or bestow upon me some terrible and vile language. I didn't know that anyone, male or female, could even have such a versatile vocabulary! I personally believe they got what was coming to them, but others merely see what I did as a crime.
Hmm, the warden has just called for my number, so it would seem that I am now going to meet my maker, and the name that was once feared all over the country shall never be uttered again.
This is the last of Barry the Chopper.
I slice, I chop,
I cannot stop.
I chops, I slices,
Your body entices…