The Perfect Person.

Somewhere in my basement, I hide my victims’ eyes. I mean, I’ve had more than one victim. I hide their arms in the attic, their legs in the basement. I hide their lips behind statues in my temporary home on this dejected planet – Earth.

My victims die for one reason, but there is logic behind it all. I’ve lost most of that logic. But it is still logic. I mean, now when I see a guy in the street – he dies if he just looks at the wrong angle. His eyes may look perfect, or his hair may fall in just the right way. I don’t kill him right then, not at that moment, but two weeks later when he doesn’t look the same, I remember what he looked that one moment and suddenly, I go hunt him down and kill him. And I never regret it. It’s pathetic, but true.

It makes me feel good to know that I’ve helped purify the earth of another idiot. All humans are stupid, you know? I mean, they spend all of their lives working for something, to get somewhere they don’t want to be. And the so called lucky ones get to “leave their kids something”. More than not, the people never wanted those children. And all they leave is money. Money that has no use in the end, but is suppose to make life easier on them now.

I was sent here; to this wretched place we call earth on a mission. I was suppose to find a human being that could go back to live with us on the planet Perfection. But, there is no perfect human in this world. There is something wrong with every single one of them.

So I am collecting body parts, from different people. It doesn’t matter really. Yeah, the media makes a big deal about all of the murders, but they don’t care. None of the people on this planet really want to live.

It’s been easy finding the perfect arm—it must be long, strong, and masculine in power, but feminine in looks. The perfect eyes are an emerald green; they change colors with moods. His skin has no blemishes, pale with no moles, zits, or scars. Toes must be a feminine beauty with grace like a ballerina. The torso must be skinny, but strong. However, the brain has not been so easy.

I use a liberal’s view on judgment, a republican’s view of family values, a woman’s mathematical logic, a man’s expertise on sex, and a preacher’s view on religion. Combining these parts, I create the perfect human brain.

I attach the brain to the head, place the limbs where they belong and create a human worthy of perfection.

I commit tons of murders to create this one perfect being. In essence, what project is worthwhile without the loss of some blood, sweat, and tears?

I’ll have you know—my planet gets closer to perfection with each perfect creature in the universe, and the people that die merely for me to analyze their body parts did not die in vein, rather--it rid the earth of a vast number of imbeciles.