Emilie Richards | Why I Became a Serial Killer

Emilie Richards

A serial killer? Well, I didn't become one, of course. Not exactly. But lately, and I have to admit the following part is true, people are dropping dead all around me. And by my hand.

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Of course my hand is on the computer keyboard whenever bad things happen. And the people dropping dead? Not nice people, for the most part. People you and I would cross the street to avoid. People who enjoy causing trouble for others. People who are sure the world revolves around them.

Serial killers get to choose their victims. And there are so many places to look. Take reality shows, for instance. Haven't you ever wanted to rid the world–or at least the television studio–of some of those judges? You know the ones I mean. They're sarcastic and egotistic and often downright cruel, all in the name of ratings. They're the ones we love to hate, and still, like bystanders staring at a train wreck, we just can't seem to pull ourselves away.

Well, I got rid of one of them this year.

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