My Interview with The Foot-Stabber

By Teabagger69

Lately, campus has been gripped by the return of a depraved individual known only as “The Foot-Stabber”. His M.O.? He stabs feet. This sick twisted mofo has violated the podiatric dignity of our students at least thrice, placing those of us with feet in great peril, especially when wearing flip-flops. Through a suspiciously easy series of events, this accidentally intrepid reporter was able to track down this heinous foot-crime perpetrator.

Teabagger69: Mr…. um… The Foot Stabber, thank you for joining me.
The Foot Stabber: Thanks for having me over. Nice shoes, by the way.

TB69: You just back right the fuck off. Now, from what we understand you enjoy, what was it now… stabbing feet.
TFS: Indeed. There is no release like puncturing foot flesh. Yeeeeeeesssssss…

TB69: Wow, that’s incredibly disturbing. Why do you do this, this, stabbing of the feet?
TFS: Well, there are a couple of reasons. One, STAB STAB STAB STABBITY STAB STAB STAB. FEEEEEEET.

TB69: I… see.
TFS: And two, well, it’s a method of empowering myself, a way to deal with the fact I’ve had a life plagued by a series of unfortunate circumstances, leaving me a hollow, broken shell of a creature with few prospects other than the perverse joy I get from stabbing feet. After all, they are a universal symbol of a person’s ability to walk, of their freedom to move about the world and determine their place in life both figuratively and literally – something I have never had, and likely never will. So, while criminal, it is perhaps the only therapeutic outlet I have in a society where acceptance and understanding is ignored for the sake of perpetuating a false consciousness of progress and opportunity.

TB69: My god. That’s tragic. Anything else?
TFS: Yes. Also, I like feet, and stabbing them makes me feel sexy. If I could stab feet with my wiener, I would.

TB69: Sweet Jesus, man, what the fuck is wrong with you?
TFS: FEETFEETFEETFEETFEET FEEEEEEEEEEEET… MMM FEET…

TB69: Well, you are clearly beyond any form of help. May god… no, actually, there’s no way any loving deity could have allowed you to live, let alone have mercy on you.
TBS: Oh, you’re really one to talk.

TB69: What do you mean? I am appropriately disdainful of your pathology, and condemning you with the proper measure of undeserved moral high ground – classic interviewing.
TBS: You mean you haven’t noticed you’ve been talking to your reflection this entire time?

TB69: What? No. That’s not true. I’m not a freak. I… I… what’s that knife? Wait, why am I holding it?!
TBS: You had to have known I’ve been inside you. Now just accept it.

TB69: No… stay away. Stay away! No. NO. NO! AUUUUUUUGGGGHHH!!

[Ed. – After confirming he would conduct this interview, Teabagger69 was found comatose below a shattered mirror, a look of disgust upon his face. The preceding transcript was compiled from notes scrawled in blood on his feet, which were covered in puncture wounds.]

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