You shit eyeballs.
You've killed in every decade since the 1950's hence your nickname The Cliff Richard Killer.
Satan follows you on Twitter.
You are training to be an astronaut as you want to go into space, hopefully meet alien lifeforms and kill them.
Peter Sutcliffe is your pen pal.
You sewed four cocks onto your testicles as your party piece is pulling down your pants and saying 'my underpants fit me like a glove.'
You infiltrate Al Qaeda as you want to gather intelliegence on their planned suicide attacks, watch said attacks from a safe distance then enter the kill zone and do a 'mopping up' operation on the seriously injured.
God's been texting you complaining about overcrowding in Heaven.
The undertaker insists on buying you booze as you keep him very busy.
Your facebook status says 'I am currently killing.'
You want to construct a time machine to take your killing spree to the next level.
