A/N: I will be taking reviews for the rest of the murders! It isn't just Looney Tunes anymore! More details below.
Name: Goofy
Date of Death: September 13, 1945
Weapon: Knife
The news of the bunny's death shocked the nation, of course. Funerals were held, tears were shed, all within a six day span. I must say, I could not have been more proud of myself. Every time I turned all the radio during those six days and heard a memorial, I smirked. My smirk widened when I heard that the imbecile security guard looking after the place for the night got pegged with the crime and had a one-way ticket to a lethal injection. It was a good week.
Then, I got another call on the 13th about some Goofy character who worked at the Disney lots. This time, the guy putting the hit on had a high-pitched voice, but at the same time, was unmistakibly a man. "This guy's trying to defect." the voice claimed. "I don't care how you do it, just take him out." I said I'd try my best and that I'd be expecting my check in the mail within three days, then I hung up.
These were my personal favorite kind of hits: the free-for-alls. I could do it any way I wanted. I went back down to the basement (which was beginning to fall apart due to a 4.9 earthquake on the 9th) and stared at my options. I wasn't going to choose a gun: I tried to mix things up as much as I could unless I was given instruction. I looked around the place until I saw the beauty: a 7-inch knife with a serrated edge and a red handle. I hadn't used it since the early 30's, so I decided to pull it out of retirement.
According to that mouse over the phone, this Goofy guy preferred the quiet life and lived somewhere secluded in Toluca Lake. It was a 50 minute drive from where I was, so I left early and headed for the guy's house. It was a strange design that I couldn't really describe to you, but it definitley had a goofy vibe to it. I tried to get in by turning the knob, which was locked, so I pulled out my knife and tried to jimmy the thing open. Success. It opened with out a hitch. I silently made my way through the living room to the staircase, which was decorated with flashy paintings and bright colors. Let me tell you, I seriously thought I was in hell.
At the end of the staircase came more paintings, and a door which was slightly ajar. I pushed it open quickly so it wouldn't creak, and the dog slept in his bed. He had on a purple striped nightcap and matching pajamas, classic look. I walked on tiptoe (which is hard to do the large boots I was wearing) over to the bed. I had better do it now before he had a chance to pummel me. I grabbed him by his floppy ears, which needless to say, woke him up. We gasped and said "Who the hell are you?" in a scared monotone. I decided not to answer, instead opting to slash his throat. The blade didn't dissapoint, and Goofy yelped in pain. His hands reached up to cover his jugular, which was leaking blood at an alarming rate. To spare him a little pain, I buried the blade in his heart. He stopped yelping and fell quiet, lying back down into his dreamless sleep.
I got my knife out of his chest, which was stuck for a second, and put it back in my pocket. I couldn't waste a knife like this. Then, and I don't know why I did this, I tucked the dead guy in. I know, it sounds strange doesn't it? I would tell you why I did it, but I don't even know. I walked out of the place and went back into my car, turning the key in the ignition.
That night, I noticed the moon and how bright it was, its craters outlined better than usual. I was actually staring at it until I almost hit a Packard while running a red light. At that point, I stopped looking and did 45 all the way home.
I had killed 121 people, and I'd be damned if I was going to jail for a driving violation.
A/N: First, PLEASE REVIEW! Second, I'm going to take requests for the rest of the murders! So if you wanna suggest one, put it on the reviews page. And, chances are, I'll pick it.