Everyone was at the party, and yet already the seeds of fate had been sown. Jboy... ArrEmmDee... Ivyna... TAC... D Fighter... No one in the world would suspect them having anything to do with the future actions that were bound to be so gruesome and surreal. So let's forget about them for a moment and focus in on this guy here.
The little figure had just entered the library. Before looking at anything, he turned back and looked at the door, pondering if he should have opened it before dashing into the room, as it would not have left a hole in the door the size of his body. Oh well, it is best to leave your "mark" on the world.
And so there he was in the Library. A dark little quiet room filled with books wall to wall to ceiling to floor to window to door and to just about anyplace in between. The titles on the books were clear and distinct, in complete spite of the poor lighting in the room which was to be linked to the creator trying to create a dramatic atmosphere with not much avail. The book titles could be read; The Last Man, Frankenstien, Hellsing, Night in the Lonesome Terror, Steven King Anthologies, War of the Undead, Blood of the Demon, and The Art of Unix Programming. Yes, the library was filled with titles that would give the normal person a chill. ... But it wasn't the titles (nor the content) that gave Mr. Mega the feeling that he was looking upon a mass grave.
There he stood. Frightened almost completely into his wits, instead of "out of" like most people think. Mr. Mega wasn't your "normal" character. Figiting in his costume of a little British Columbian Socialist. He wasn't looking at a collection of literature... He was looking at alot of paper. Paper, paper, and paper!. It wasn't a library he was looking at - it was a dump site for Tree Genocide! ... So much paper, it could have been an entire forest!
"... Say clam, Mega." he said to himself, "All serial killers like to leave their mark. If I find that mark and how he did it, I'll find this tree killer!" And thus, Mr. Mega finally put his PhD in Crime Scene Investigation and Hotel Management to good use. He inspected the "bodies" along the shelves. He found it. The killer left his mark, his name written right on the "corpse".
"So it is you again, Oxford Publishing Company," Mr. Mega found, "I'll find you and bring you to justice!"
"But... How?" Mr. Mega pondered, "How could he kill so many trees at once? ... It could not have been clear cutting. I lobbied against those Forest Industry Fools to do that!"
Jogging his mind with the "logic" of imaginative thinking, Mr. Mega then leaned on a nearby object to make himself more confortable. The object, which was a radio, then activated itself.
"Shabbadabbada-bai-bai. Da-da-duh shabbadabbada-bai-bai. Doop-ee-doo, doo do do dot dot doo... La la lalalalala, da da da da..."
"That is it!" Mr. Mega exlaimed in complete enlightenment. "The weapon used was bad taste in music! Of course! Why didn't I see it? ... But, if it was, then it couldn't have been the original suspect..."
Feeling confused with his investigation, Mr. Mega didn't know what else to think. If it wasn't the Oxford Publishing Company, then who?
"He couldn't have gotten far." Mr Mega mumbled. "Tree Killer! If you can hear me, when we meet, you shall be brought to justice!" Mr. Mega then whispered to the people behind the fourth wall, "And we will too!"
Running off in a flame of self-rightousness and a flutter of little "Vote NDP!" cards falling to the ground. Of course, it was probably better for his health that he should have left the Library with the hole he made in the door earlier, and not the hole he consequently made in the wall after running right through it.