User:Ma'nbagz

Bespoke Murderism It's pantomime season. Always and forever.[1] Not much is known about the clown-masked killer Manbagz, beyond the fact that he is a stone cold psychopath and the ultra-violent mind behind K is for Komedy, an experimental death unit that evolved out of the group Aesthetic Judgment. He was once rumoured to be working on a masterpiece sheep/clone massacre project: Ark Lily Leper, but Player Killers are a solitary lot, and the idea of turning the entire city into a corpse circus would have meant too much time, trust and truce. Manbagz is dangerously unhinged mentally, prone to both entirely unprovoked random killing sprees and also moments of lucid, poetic, revolutionary, existential zeal. Mostly though, he just murders people. His trademark kill is a fuel can soaking plus flare gunning until victim is a charred stump of nothing, although he's also quite passionate about knives, Chelsea smiles, baseball bats and pistol shots to the kneecaps followed by a brutal caving in of the skull with a length of metal pipe. So what's with the Clown Mask? In the beginning it was a clone-killing thing. Manbagz was (is) a member of Aesthetic Judgment— non-descripts all look the same: vacant spaces, evacuated identities. The mask symbolised laughter in the face of empty terror. Later it became the face of terror laughing— 'Whoever battles monsters should take care not to become a monster...', etc etc etc. If you are also deranged and wish to join Manbagz in his bespoke murderism, feel free to click through to the K is for Komedy group page. If you wish to speak to Manbagz, or hire him to kill a clone, sheep or pig (or several of them), please use Cellphone[2] (Calls are free, 0800-KOMEDY). Miscellaneous info Manbagz has no memory of his life before the Zed plague began. He has an irrational loathing of non-descripts: on a bad week he will work to gun down clone populated buildings and leave them as EHB tombs filled with corpses. Many pigs have been dropped in the fray: uniformity also breeds contempt. To date, he has never harmed so much as a hair on the head of a zombie, because unlike the tediously sincere human survivors panic-shopping FAKs and shotgun shells in green and Zed-less suburbs, paranoid and fueled by radio propaganda ("Give us your poor, your sick and huddled masses, for Malton is the 51st state / perpetual night / 'marestrip One")— unlike these earnest trench-coated, bandana'd and sunglassed husks of humanity, at least the undead don't text-rape, or bounty kill when their pseudo-heroic Necrotech prickery is exposed as nothing but empty machismo. Nah, the Zeds are all good. It's the humans that are the plague.