Body Bags Page #5

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Mine enemy sharpened

his eyes upon me.

They have gaped upon me

with his mouth.

They have gathered themselves

together against me.

God hath delivered me

to the ungodly

and turned me over

into the hands of the wicked.

He hath also

taken me by my neck

and shaken me to pieces

and set me up for his mark.

His archers compass me

roundabout.

He cleaveth my reins asunder

and doth not spare.

He poureth out my gall

upon the ground.

He breaketh me

with breach upon breach.

He runneth upon me

like a giant.

I have sewed sackcloth

upon my skin

and defiled my horn

in the dust.

My face is foul

with weeping

and on my eyelids

is the shadow of death.

Therefore rejoice...

The sky were darkened

by the smoke from the abyss.

I told you to leave me alone!

Why can't you do

what I ask you to do?

Please, Brent,

go see the doctor.

Yes, will he help?

Will he help me?

Will the doctor help me?

I'll drive you.

No, the keys.

Where are the keys?

Downstairs on the table.

What have you done to me?

Oh, uh, Brent, aren't I supposed

to see you this afternoon?

What have you done to me?

I don't know

what you're talking about.

What's happenin' to me?

Are you outta your mind?

Calm down.

This eye, this eye!

Where in the hell

did this eye come from?

Wh-- wh-- wh--

what does it matter?

Tell me!

Well, it, uh, from a man--

a man who died.

How did he die?

He-- he was executed.

He died in the gas chamber.

Well, who was he?

Tell me!

Uh, Randall-- John Randall.

Here we are--

John Randall.

Just move this

and it scans the entire text.

Let me know

if you need anymore help.

Apparently,

Randall had attempted

to get rid of the bodies

in his kitchen garbage disposal.

Ultimately, the dismembered remains

of seven young women

were discovered

in shallow graves.

All the victims had died

as a result of stab wounds

administered by a pair

of garden shears.

Each of the women

had been sexually molested

after death.

Subsequent investigation

into Randall's past

uncovered a childhood

marked by physical abuse

at the hands of an...

alcoholic mother.

Police were struck

by the fact that

Randall's mother, like all the victims,

had blonde hair.

In conversations with police,

Randall referred to himself as...

the Devil.

Brent?

Brent?

I'm out here.

What did the doctor say?

Oh, nothin' to worry about.

Could you please stop diggin'.

I need to talk to you.

I can't.

I have to finish

diggin' your grave.

Whore!

What are you doing?

No, get off me!

Get off me!

This is the John Randall, dear.

He chose them by their hair!

John Randall.

John Randall.

John Randall, John Randall,

John Randall, John Randall!

Randall, Randall,

John Randall.

He cut 'em up, you see?

John woulda liked you.

I have his eye, you know.

I see what John Randall saw.

And it's so damn satisfying.

Brent, the bible,

look at the bible.

He makes 'em soft.

They're hair is soft, but it-

They're whores!

So, we have to make 'em soft.

And then we can have 'em.

But then they get cold and, uh--

Oh, John, he doesn't like that.

Grind 'em up.

That's what we do.

But they're too big.

Big and ugly.

And so we dig.

Put 'em in the ground

and make 'em quiet.

Oh, John, he knew

what was good.

Brent, the bible,

look at the bible.

What is in the bible?

- John Randall's in the bible.

- John Randall's not in the bible!

That Brent, Brent's in the bible!

That's right, Brent's in the bible.

No, I-- I-- I mean that--

That's right, you said

Brent's in the bible.

No, that's not what I mean.

Yes, look, it says it

in the bible.

From Cathy to Brent,

our faith in thee.

Shut up!

Whore!

No.

To Brent from Cathy,

may we always

walk together with God.

I got my eye on you baby

Oh yeah.

Oh, sorry, I couldn't resist.

So, what do you think?

Myself, I love stories

about our national pastime--

violent death.

Ooh.

What I don't understand is,

why was he so upset

about losing his eye?

You could have become

an umpire.

Uh-oh, better get movin'.

Oh!

Oohoo,

it's freezin' in here.

Mighty-night.

Oh, man it looks like we got

our work cut out for us tonight.

Man, you ain't lyin'.

Might as well get started.

Another John Doe, huh?

Ooh, severe, uh, trauma

to the abdomen, I'd say.

Really, what's your first clue?

Here, give me that saw.

Ooh, hey, I'm gonna get

some coffee, man.

- Hey, get me some too, buddy.

- You bet.

You know,

these guys crack me up.

You gotta love 'em.

Oop, gotta run.

That's not good.

Well, look at your liver, buddy.

What the hell you been drinkin',

formaldehyde?

How's it coming?

Give me the head saw.

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