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The Daily Cardinal Est. 1892
Tuesday, November 29, 2022
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Serial killer arrives to next murder, is frustrated to realize he only has a paring knife

“Darn it — I’m such a putz.”

All articles featured in The Beet are creative, satirical and/or entirely fictional pieces. They are fully intended as such and should not be taken seriously as news.

It’s been said in every entry level cooking class — there’s a knife for every job. Not only can using the incorrect knife increase the likelihood of injury, but it can make it more difficult to slice smoothly. Budding serial killer The Backhand Butcher, nicknamed after the form forensics indicate he stabs with, found this out the hard way.

Upon arriving at his next potential kill on the evening of Oct. 26, The Backhand Butcher thought the stage was set — it was dark, he could see through the window the woman was home alone and he had his favorite chef’s knife on his hip… or so he thought. 

After reaching for where the knife’s handle should’ve been, he found there was nothing there. Taking a moment to gather himself, he then reached lower before realizing his mistake — he had forgotten to return his biggest, sharpest knife to his belt after cleaning it. In its place was a paring knife, which is more useful for peeling apples than stabbing through pounds of flesh. 

“Darn it — I’m such a putz. I can’t believe I forgot to put the knife back immediately after I cleaned it. Gosh, that’s basic safety,” sighed the four-times-and-counting killer, shaking his head. “I must’ve put the paring knife here by mistake after I de-veined those shrimp.”

The future Netflix mini-series subject didn’t take it easy on himself.

“I swear, this has never happened before a kill. Never. Not with the jogger wearing headphones, not with the puppy-love teenage couple taking in the sunset from a cliff, not even with that girl whose friends called her crazy when she warned them about me. Otherwise, their loved ones would still have the chance to say ‘I love you’ to them whenever they want,” babbled the exasperated Butcher.

Out of options, the masked murderer checked the blade of his sole knife. Not only was the knife too small, but the blade was dull. 

“Well this is just great, now isn’t it? I just sharpened this knife like last Tuesday. God must hate me, I guess,” said the literal serial killer. 

Ultimately, The Backhand Butcher sulked home with his head hung in shame. Though The Beet did not find the cold-blooded killer’s address out of concern of being murdered, it is assumed he returned home to throw away all of his rubber chickens and balloon animals. 

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