So, y’all here to fill up on gas, eh? I’d say that’s a good idea. A body can get in some mighty big trouble out here in the desert if he ain’t careful.
So, y’all headed up to the old Shaughnessy place, eh? Was a nice place, I hear—at least until the murders. They got ‘em all with a pizza cutter, supposedly. Mom and Pappy, Grammy, Uncle Stew, the twins. Some pretty ugly business.
So, y’all inspecting that rack of Hostess snack cakes, eh? Well, just keep your mitts off them Ding Dogs. They’re just for show.
Anyway, so I was recounting the local lore surrounding the Shaughnessy place, eh? Yessum, authorities boarded up the house ages ago, after a couple more strange disappearances around the property. A-course I hear the cellar is still open.
So, y’all looking for a restroom, eh? Here’s the key, just go round back. I’d recommend doing your business in the sink. There’s a cottonmouth in there who don’t take too kindly to strangers.
So, y’all never even asked about the old Shaughnessy place, and I’ve just been babbling about it? I guess this old soul can’t get oven something so horrible, having lived here all my life. Just me and my brother Nate the Strangler. He lives up in the attic, don’t come out much, he’s kinda…shy.
So, y’all found a bloody pizza cutter behind the slurpee machine, eh? My, ain’t that a funny coincidence. Anyhow, take a gander at all those flavors! Folks always go for the blue raspberry, especially those Shaughnessy twins. At least until, you know…
So, y’all correctly surmised that I committed the Shaughnessy murders, and have been camped out at this here gas station ever since so that I may act as a harbinger for the horrors ahead, eh? Unfortunately, Nate don’t care too much for people going around and spilling our secrets.
So, y’all already managed to slay Nate the Strangler after he brutally killed some of the more morally reprehensible members of your teenage posse, eh? Looks like I’m finally about to get mine. I reckon them Shaughnessy ghosts will finally have some peace now that justice has been served.
Still, I don’t suppose none of y’all are ready for when Nate the Strangler comes back to life and massacres the bunch of you, eh?
So, my overuse of exposition has allowed y’all to easily bypass all the traps I’ve set for you, eh? Maybe if I’d spent more time learning how to better operate my small business and less time flaunting my homicidal tendencies, I wouldn’t be in this pickle. Anywho, I’d better go pump that gas for y’all before Nate the Strangler, resurrected yet again, throttles me to avenge years of abuse at my hands, thereby bringing the bloody Shaughnessy narrative to a fitting end.
So, y’all drive an electric car, eh? I suppose that means I got y’all wrapped up in this web of slaughter and deceit for nothing. Anyway, buy something or get out. This here store is a gruesome redneck murder front, not a damn library.