Killing Kardashian

THE KILLER was a twisted psychopath who had spent a lifetime preparing for this one day. He needed to make a statement. Something Biblical. Epic. Comparable to the Friday when JFK was shot, or the Tuesday the Twin Towers fell; this day had to be remembered long after he was gone.

And because the Killer was a cunning man, the day he chose for his slaughter was Halloween. A holiday he could hide behind a mask and walk amongst the costumed revelers on the loony tunes LA streets, and no one would be the wiser.

He had only twenty-four hours to accomplish his objective. No more, no less. After that, the LAPD and the FBI would be all over him. And even though the psychopath had planned well, he imagined that Killing the Kardashians with their complex schedules and airtight security would be an impossible feat at best.
Still he had to try. Something had to be done.

THE MARINE was born a hot-tempered Irishman. He wanted to be a screenwriter long before he ever thought about being John Wayne, and every day he penned stories about larger than life heroes in his journal while dreaming in Technicolor about a decadent Hollywood future, complete with a hot actress girlfriend and a Magnum PI Ferrari.

All he had to do was sell that first spec script about his life in the Delta Force, then his show biz life would fall right into place. So what if he didn’t have an agent? So what if he would be venturing into a fading industry, where cheap reality TV executives were replacing the town’s best writers? He didn’t care. He was manufactured at Parris Island! Built to persevere, designed to adapt, overcome, and achieve! God would never make a racehorse out of a donkey, and Gunnery Sergeant Roscoe Patrick Cahill was convinced that the good lord above created him specifically to be one of Hollywood’s greatest screenwriters! Pity the fool who gets in his way!