Tear You Apart || Billy Loomis & Stu Macher

𝟸𝟿| 𝐊𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫 𝐁𝐚𝐢𝐭

"Look, I've been going through a lot lately, Billy. And with my mom—"

"Sid, I think you need to just deal with that and move on. I mean, when my mom left my dad, I accepted it. That's the way the cookie crumbles. Moms leave."

You were snickering while staring up at the TV as it played a preview of the new Stab movie. After meeting up with Randy and Dewey at this food place near your college, you quickly became distracted by the entertaining sneak peek. It wasn't supposed to be funny but the terrible acting along with the not-entirely-accurate situations made it hilarious. They even got Tori Spelling to play Sid.

"I'll wait for the video." Randy declared as it wasn't worth the movie ticket. "Okay. So, let's get down to business."

You pulled your focus away from the television as you turned in your chair, facing them both.

"The way I see it, someone's out to make a sequel. You know, cash in on all the movie murder hoopla." Randy stated, getting the obvious out of the way first. "So, it's our job to observe the rules of a sequel."

"Which are?" You asked, placing your elbow on the table as you leaned forward expectantly.

"Number one: the body count is always bigger. Number two: the death scenes are always much more elaborate; more blood, more gore. Carnage candy. Your core audience just expects it."

Dewey anxiously sipped on his milkshake as Randy continued to list off the rules, "And number three: if you want your sequel to become a franchise, never ever—"

"How do we find the killer, Randy? That's what I want to know." Dewey interrupted impatiently.

"Well, let's look at the suspects." Randy said, quickly moving on. "There's Derek, the obvious boyfriend. Hello, Billy Loomis. The guy's premed and his pity-me surface wound conveniently missed every major vein and artery."

Derek was slowly but surely moving to the top of your suspect list as you realized that was exactly what Mickey said this morning.

"So, you think it's Derek?" Dewey's eyes widened with recognition as Randy's little hypothesis surprisingly made sense.

"Not so fast." Randy held out his hand to stop him. "Let's assume the killer, or 'ers, has half a brain. He's not a Nick at Nite rerun type of guy. He wants to break some new ground, right? So, forget the boyfriend. It's tired. Who else we got?"

"There's Mickey." You stated while resting your chin in the palm of your hand.

"Yes! Mickey, the freaky Tarantino film
student." Randy agreed, and then frowned. "But if he's a suspect, so am I. So, let's move on."

"Whoa, wait a– let's not move on. Maybe you are a suspect." Dewey chimed in at the blunt dismissal.

"Well, if I'm a suspect, you're a suspect." Randy rebuffed before pointing at you. "And so are you."

"Me?" You copied his movement, pointing at yourself. "Randy, you dingus, neither one of us can be suspects because we have an alibi."

The two men shared a puzzled look as they waited for you to explain.

"We were at the theater watching a movie when those two seniors were killed. And we were together during the Delta Lambda party the same time Cici Cooper was murdered— But now that I think about it, you were gone for a suspicious amount of time when you left to collect those jello-shots. Care to explain that?" You inquired, quirking a brow. Although you didn't genuinely think it was Randy, you found entertainment in messing with him a little.

"Alright, you got me there. Let's move on." Randy said, backing down straight away. Dewey chuckled at that.

"The next suspect is Hallie."