Have you ever noticed how, in the movies, we social phobes always turn out to be deranged, psychotic lunatics? The quiet, shy nerd gets introduced at the beginning as some cupcake baking, mommy's little choir boy and then BAM! By the time all the cool kids are dead, the cops or the lone surviving cheerleader or whatever will discover that little Mary-Joseph spent all his free time polishing his machete collection.
I mean, come on!! If it happened in real life, Mary-Joseph's hands would be sweating so badly that his switchblade would have rusted by the time he got to use it. He would be unable to leave his house, so could only kill people who came to visit, which, of course, no-one ever would. He would not be able to aim properly anyway because he would be shamefully looking at the floor as soon as a likely target got close. And doing away with people of the opposite sex? Forget it! That would mean being in the same room as them.
I reckon it was the cheerleader the whole time.
I mean, come on!! If it happened in real life, Mary-Joseph's hands would be sweating so badly that his switchblade would have rusted by the time he got to use it. He would be unable to leave his house, so could only kill people who came to visit, which, of course, no-one ever would. He would not be able to aim properly anyway because he would be shamefully looking at the floor as soon as a likely target got close. And doing away with people of the opposite sex? Forget it! That would mean being in the same room as them.
I reckon it was the cheerleader the whole time.
