The cops down in 'Bama didn't even know nothin' was wrong till it was all too late. He had a thing for kids. They were always so innocent and trusting with their pretty li'l faces and pink, pink lips.
He 'members the first li'l boy, beautiful big blue eyes and a bright red mouth from the lollipop his momma musta gave him. He 'members how the young'un di'n't even pause a breath when he asked him if he wanted to see a dead snake.
He'll always cherish the scream that li'l boy made as his intestine tumbled all out over that nice, clean floor.
January fifth in the year of our lord nineteen hundred and ninety-two some poor unfortunate young woman turned up in Huntsville. And in Madison. And Decatur. And Fort Payne and a few months later someone found her right hand all the way down in Mobile.
Febuary fourteenth of that same year some nice, sweet young man's body was discovered out behind a church up in The City. He 'members how jus' for fun he pulled out young Samuel's heart. When he heard all the fuss them news people were makin' about it he even decided to find another three young men and do just the same t' all them. They called him "The Sweetheart Killer" and put some awful li'l negro boy to death for the murders.
In Birmingham they called him "The Monkeywrench Bandit," and he still ain't too sure how they came up with that one, "The Lewis Smith Lake Killer," which he always thought was terrribly unoriginal, and "The Cottonwood Riper." The three of those were fourteen different boys an' girls couldn't no one ever connect t'gether much less pin on him.
He got himself a whole nigger family down near Butler, nine porch monkey's all in one sittin'. Like fish in a barell. Ain't none o' them ever got pinned on him neither.
They caught him in down in Montgomery. He knows he got greedy, grabbed himself a whole group of young, pubescent, nubile teenagers near a shopping mall. The oldest boy, who couldn't a passed for more than nineteen if he went a few days without shavin', said his name was "Joker" and asked if he could buy them all some beer. Even offered to give him money. All those trusting li'l children just went on and piled into the back of his van like he was some nice old uncle they done known forever.
When the police found the van he realized he hadn't scrubbed it hard enough and probably should'a just burned the damn thing down. He cut a deal with 'em and got 'em to take both the big, bad Yellow Mama and that pesky needle off the table. They found three of the boys and one of the girls and all they wanted to know was where the other two boys were. So he told 'em.
But he never said a damned word about the other boy and girl that was with them, or that other sweet little girl with the bubblegum lipstick and those cute little cotton panties that they met up with at the convienience store.
Them people on the news called him all sorts o' names. Pedohile. Rapist. Necrophiliac. Sinner. Murderer. By far his favorite one though was Monster with a capitol em.
Not sure how to go after this. I kinda wanna end it but I'm not sure how. Maybe by mentioning something about how they only charged him with six but suspected him of forty-something and how he really killed probably close to a hundred or so.