I don't exactly know how to start my tale… actually, now that I think about it, I kinda do, so ignore that last statement. This is the story of how my life got turned upside down, and I don't mean in the sense that I moved in with rich relatives, but in the sense that I became a serial killer who cooked his victims. I'll start things off with some context for how this turn of events could happen to me.
It all began way back in April 2008 on a late Friday night. The rest of my peers were either partying or doing homework, but not I. Because throughout my whole life I was seen as a social outcast due to being the only Dinosaur-Canadian resident in our town(and before you ask, yes, no joke, I am an anthropomorphic Tenontosaurus, who grew up in a small town in Quebec, Canada, let's move on, okay?), and as such I was often looked upon with confusion, fear, and, amusement, and as such I became very aloof and apathetic towards everything and everyone. Anyways, you might be asking, what does this have to do with anything? Well, I'll tell you. I was lounging on the couch, dressed in my Snuggie, eating chips and watching some TVOntario(which is the Canadian equivalent of PBS or the BBC), when my adoptive human mother came downstairs, snapped me out of my bored stupor.
"I'm going on my two-week business trip, Jacques," she began in her stern, shrill voice, "Remember, you're in charge of the house until I get back, which means you must mow the lawn, do the dishes, and keep this place in tip-top shape." I just shrugged it off knowing that I would just be in front of the TV for said two weeks anyway.
"Oh, by the way, the Church Potluck is on Wednesday, so can you please make that egg and ham salad?" she demanded.
I just rolled my eyes and asked, "Why couldn't you have done it?" To which she harshly replied with "I did, you just ate it all."
She promptly left and I just got back to watching the boob tube and decided to channel surf a bit to see what was on when I settled on 'The Shopping Channel.' You see, I was a fan of "As Seen On TV" products, as while they were often unnecessary, I felt there was a charm to how many of them would perform the most basic of tasks and cater to most lazy of suckers(which describe me perfectly). Since my mom had a high paying job, I meant we had a lot of spare money we could waste, hence why we were able to watch English-speaking channels despite living in Quebec, so often I would buy from them and/or from other infomercials. And on this very night, I would see with my very eyes the thing that would cause me to go down a never-ending downward spiral of death and destruction.
"And for our next product, all the way from the U.S. it's the Magic Bullet, the Ultimate Party Machine!" The presenter said as she showed the bullet-shaped contraption in all its glory.
"This little fella might just look like a miniature blender, but it can help you make almost anything in 10 seconds or less! From, Zesty Salsa, to, Frozen Coffee Drinks, and, Guacamole, the Magic Bullet makes all these recipes easy as 1, 2, 3!" This piqued my interest since I really, really, REALLY, didn't want to make that Salad, and this was the quick fix I needed.
"Best of all is that if you call in the next 30 seconds," She cheerfully announced. "Not only will we send it with three-day free shipping, but we'll also give you this Ronco Six Star Cutlery Set, absolutely free of charge."
I quickly wasted no time and called the station, and sure enough, three days later, the Magic Bullet arrived. I plugged it in and was about to begin cooking the ham and egg salad when I heard a knock on the door. I opened and it was the neighbor, Jean-Pascal Coquere, the local youth minister, and while he was still in school, the most popular kid. God, I hated him, he was probably the most annoying uptight pleb I had met. In fact, the entire church staff was like this, uptight, condescending fops who always wore masks of 'kindness'. I didn't buy into their tricks and I always complained about them on Reddit and was even a mod on the then newly created r/Atheism, even though I am an Agnostic Theist. Okay, enough rambling, where was I? Oh, yes! I groaned at the sight of Jean,
"What are you doing here, Pascal?" I grumbled.
"Howdy Jacques, my favorite lizard, I just wanted to stop by and see how you're doing this week," he replied in his irritating, nasal voice.
I just rolled my eyes and said, "For your information, I was just about to cook some ham and egg salad for that stu-"
He suddenly interrupted me with "Can I help you with that? I know a great recipe for ham & egg salad!" I just stood with a look of irritation and confusion, but that didn't deter that freckled-faced goody-two-shoes over here, as he waltzed into my kitchen (without me giving an answer I might add), and began getting out the necessary ingredients when he noticed the Magic Bullet.
"Hey what's that?" He asked, looking like he was just seeing a piece of alien technology. "That's the Magic Bullet," I replied in a very deadpan tone. "I bought it to make cooking this dumb salad a bit easier since it can help make recipes within seconds."
"It looks incredible," He said like an excited child. "This could be revolutionary, it could be the future! It could-"
I cut him off right there, as I began to play with one of my Ronco Knives out of boredom. "Alright calm down, it's just an As Seen On TV product, it's not anything to get too excited about." Embarrassed, he quickly straightened himself out.
"Alright, I guess it's time to make that salad," he said, before pointing to the knife I was playing with, "Hey, pass me the knife and I can start by slicing this ham." Feeling extra bored and callous, I tossed the knife over to him, disregarding the fact he was probably expecting me to just hand the knife over to him. And sure enough, the knife landed and impaled that Archie Andrew looking ass' head. How was I able to blindly "toss" a knife at enough velocity to impale someone's head you might be asking? The answer is… shut up. The point is Pascal was dead, and I was probably going to go to jail, which is bad since I was too good-looking and full of potential to spend my young adult years in the slammer. What was I going to do?
"Psst, hey you." a mysterious voice, that sounded oddly similar to John Lennon, said.
I became confused at this turn of events, "What, who said that?" I asked.
"I did." The voice replied.
"But who are you?" I asked, now becoming frustrated.
"Look behind you." I turned around to see that the Magic Bullet had somehow gained eyes and a mouth, that looked they were poorly superimposed on to it, sorta like that hilarious Annoying Orange video, I saw yesterday (seriously, that was the funniest stuff I'd ever seen).
"What's the matter Jacques, old chap? You look… uneasy?" The Magic Bullet said.
"I mean, I just killed someone a minute ago, and you've just begun talking to me, so forgive me for looking uneasy!" I shot back.
The machine just chuckled heartily and said, "Well, you're in luck, old chap, I just so happen to know a solution to all of your problems! Jean-Pascal over there, wanted to help you make your casserole, yes?"
I just nodded, not liking where this was going.
"Well… he still can…" The Bullet said in a more sinister tone, "just not in the way he was intending to."
I looked at Pascal's corpse, blood now drenching his ugly face, then turned to the Magic Bullet. "You're not suggesting I cook Pascal's body into that casserole right?" I nervously asked hoping the Bullet's answer was a stern and disgusted 'no'.
"Yep, that's exactly what I'm suggesting!" The Bullet enthusiastically replied. I then proceeded to stare at the Bullet with shock in my eyes for exactly five minutes (Yeah, I had a stopwatch).
"That's sick," I screamed, "you're saying that I should cook and serve a dead human corpse to unsuspecting people!"
"Face the music, old chap, you killed that boy, and someone will find out eventually unless you destroy the body. So, why not do it in style?" The Magic Bullet smoothly countered. "Besides, if you do the deed then it means you'll be able to bring something for that Church Potluck! It all works out in the end."
I just stared at the Bullet, dumbstruck. "But... it's just not right…!" I said.
"Do you have a choice though?" The Bullet replied. Obviously, I did, but back then I just thought 'whatever', and decided to listen to that Bullet anyway. I cut out pieces of Jean-Pascal's body, and using the Magic Bullet, mixed it with Hard-Boiled Eggs, Green Onions, Dijon Mustard, Garlic Aioli, and Salt & Pepper, and created that accursed Ham & Egg Salad. I threw the rest of Pascal's body into our furnace, and after cleaning up the bloodstains, I went to bed with a guilty conscience.
Two days later, it was Wednesday, the day of the Potluck. I got up, had a shower, ate a piece of toast, grabbed my Soylent Salad, and left. I entered the giant waste of space that was the Church and was greeted by our local pastor, Jehan Girard.
"Welcome, brother Jacques, I see you brought your mother's famous ham & egg salad." The Pastor said in a condescending, pious tone. I just ignored him and placed the ham and egg salad on the table, and then attempted to look brooding in front of everyone for the rest of the party. When everyone gathered to eat their unhealthy lunches, making sandwiches with my salad, while I just stared at my plate, looking at what was left of Jean-Pascal Coquere… a sandwich.
"Mmmm, this is tasty." a random lady said, I forgot her name. "This is some of the best Ham & Egg Salad I've ever tasted." The Pastor said. I was both shocked and, to be honest, a little amused, to see the dumb saps not only be oblivious to the salad's true origin but to enjoy it as well. "You must give me the recipe, Jacques, I need to have this for my housewarming party."
I smiled and simply said, "it's an old family secret…" When I got home, I was greeted by the Bullet, still sporting a face, and still speaking. "How was the party, old chap?" He asked.
I went up to it and said, "It went alright, the people for some reason liked my salad a bit too much." The Bullet began chuckling.
"Well then, it looks like you have a hit on your hands." It smugly said, "I think we should capitalize on this success."
"What?!" I shouted, "It's not enough that I cooked that pleb, You want me to kill and cook more people?!"
"Of course, old chap!" The Magic Bullet said, unfazed by my outburst, "I'm your ticket to revenge, stick with me and you'll be unstoppable."
"Since when did you start caring about revenge?" I asked.
"I just do now… I work in mysterious ways… old chap." He hissed.
I took a while to consider the Magic Bullet's offer, I did have a lot of pent up anger, and it did feel cathartic to cook Pascal, so guess this was a good method to channel it… an illegal and immoral method sure, but a good method nevertheless.
"Give in to your homicidal urges, old chap," the Magic Bullet goaded. "Become a dinosaur both on the outside and the inside!"
"But, Tenontosaurus are herbivores." I said.
The Magic Bullet just frowned and said. "You know what I mean old chap."
And with that, I give in to the Magic Bullet's manipulation, and I became… a killer (DUN DUN DUUUN)! In the night, or during the day with some very covert methods, I murdered all of the proverbial horse flies in my life, and using the Magic Bullet, turned them into my unholy delicacies. Mr. Bitte, the strict math teacher who would constantly give me long division homework even though I was bad at them, was turned into meat for my zesty salsa for the Cinco De Mayo party. I mixed the blood of Pastor Girard with strawberries, blueberries, cherries, raspberries, and red and black currants, and made a 'Berry Blast Smoothie' for our beach party. I used the meat of Eve Pieux, the annoying church girl who would never shut up about Jesus, to make Hamburgers for the Fourth of July celebration. And, Noël Valentin, the effeminate Inuit boy I used to sit with at lunch? Well, actually he never really was that annoying so he was spared my wrath. But, ol' Principal Rigoureux, the harsh, authoritarian principal, was given no such mercy when he became Mincemeat Pie for the School Bake Sale.
At this point I had, as you say, reached rock bottom of my spiral, I mean I had become a cold-blooded murderer at the insistence of a sentient As Seen On TV product. If you were in my shoes you would probably call this the worst moment of your life. But soon enough I did something that would somehow cause me to go even further down the spiral.
It happened on a cold December night when I was busy preparing to turn old man Louis into meatballs for the New Year's Eve party. I had sent mom away to get us some milk to keep her distracted as I did the dark deed while I wore a butcher's smock over my Snuggie. I was so sure that she wouldn't interrupt me. Just then…
"Jacques I forgot my wall- OH SUGAR HONEY ICE TEA! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!" She screamed as I was caught in the act.
"Mother, please I can explain!" I said.
"You've been killing our neighbors and feeding them to our other neighbors!" She quickly deduced by the fact that I often sent her out to get more milk when I was cooking, I explicitly told her to go to out of town stores, the fact that more and more of our neighbors kept disappearing when I was cooking, and I did so only for special events, and, oh yeah, and we constantly ran out of milk.
"Mother, please it wasn't my doing, It was him, the Magic Bullet, he told me to do it!" I pleaded.
"Great to know you're throwing me under the bus, old chap!" The bullet said sarcastically.
"Shut up, you dirty rat food processor, you screwed up my whole life!" I yelled.
"Jacques, who are you talking to?" She asked, confused.
"The Magic Bullet!" I yelled, "it came to life and it's forcing me to commit awful crimes!"
My mother just looked at me as if I was insane.
"It makes sense, I mean, what other explanation is there," I asked, "that the Magic Bullet isn't talking to me, and he's nothing more than a manifestation of my bottled up anger and homicidal thoughts and also a way to deflect guilt away from me?!"
"Yes!" she bluntly said.
"Don't listen to her old chap, you know that you need me!" The Magic Bullet pleaded.
"I'm calling the police," My mother yelled, "This needs to end, NOW!"
I was now full of dread and had to choose an ultimatum, kill my mother, or let her call the cops.
"You know what to have to do… old chap." The Magic Bullet said in an even deeper, sinister tone than I ever heard from him before, and at that moment, the urges took over, and I grabbed the Ronco Cheese Knife, ran to the living room, and killed my mother right then and there. However, as she fell to the floor, I heard the sound of panicked voices on the phone as it hung up. I was too late. She told them everything. The cops were coming to get me.
"Come on, old chap, let's cook your mother!" The Magic Bullet cheerfully cried, but I just ignored him and began waiting at the door for the police.
"Come on, old chap, what are you waiting for?" Again, I ignored the Bullet.
"Well fine be like that," The Bullet snapped back, "If you're just going to ignore me then I'll ignore you too! lalalalalala-" I waited exactly 34 minutes and 69 seconds(thank you, stopwatch) for the cops to arrive and kick down my front door. They at first, were taken aback and giggled at the sight of a walking talking dinosaur in a snuggie and butcher's smock, but they quickly regained their composure.
"Jacques Boucher, you're under arrest," The officer roared, "You have the right to remain silent unless you don't feel like being quiet!" I didn't resist or anything, at that moment, I just didn't care anymore, I just wanted it to all be over.
The week after I was put on trial for first-degree murder. All of the people in my life who I didn't off during my rampage, were there as character witnesses, and they testified that my homicidal nature was """allegedly""" always there. Even that effeminate Inuit, Valentin testified against me (little backstabber). I pleaded that I was not guilty and insisted that it was the Magic Bullet's manipulation that drove me insane but the jury didn't believe me and thought I was just trying to plead insanity. Thus I was found guilty. I was sentenced to ten years in prison, which might seem too fair, but since I was only seventeen I was given a reduced sentence in accordance with Canadian law. I wasn't even sentenced as an adult by the Judge. I don't know why I still applied since at the end of the day, I still killed multiple people but whatever.
Anyway, I spent the next ten or so years of my life in Bordeaux Prison, where I often was beaten up by the other prisoners for being "That Dinosaur who killed people with a Magic Bullet.", so that stunk. Outside of prison wasn't much better, I had become a media pariah. A real 'Casey Anthony' if you know what I mean. I know this because also per Canadian law, I was given a TV in my cell. So, I was able to see myself be featured on countless news stations, true crime documentaries, have an episode about me on 48 Hours, inspire a Stephen King novel, and there was even a movie based on my life directed by Martin Scorsese and Francis Ford Coppola, which I thought was pretty okay when I saw it air on FX. To say the least, my whole life has now been ruined all thanks to a kitchen appliance.
After years of abuse and mockery, I was released from the prison in January of this year, which brings us here, to me telling you my story. You're probably wondering what the point of all of this was, why did I waste your time with this long rambling story about a Magic Bullet? For starters, this is meant as a warning to anyone who decides to buy a Magic Bullet. Seriously, don't buy one! Don't end up like me, and become a cold-hearted person at the whim of a machine like me. And no, before you ask again, I am not crazy! The Magic Bullet is the true card-carrying monster here and not an extension of my dark side. That's another reason why I'm telling you all this, I want to finally clear my name! To show everyone who the real villain is! It's not me, It's not society... It's the Magic Bullet! So, please if you see a Magic Bullet on sale at your local Walmart, or Costo, or Target, or Meijer, or Best Buy, or find it on Amazon, do yourself the favor and avoid it at all costs. Don't make the same mistake that I did and turn yourself into a monster all just because you didn't want to make that Ham & Egg salad for the church potluck. Well, I guess my story is over now, so I guess all I can say is either take my warning seriously or go back to watching your terrible memes.
Bye.