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Jello was finally home. He pulled up to his house, drove into his garage, walked inside, and sat down firmly in his computer chair.
"Next."
His computer picked up on this voice command and chose a person randomly, from the pool of users belonging to the forum he used to visit back in 2007, nearly twelve years ago.
"I just realized this new technology is pretty lame," he said out loud to nobody in particular. He decided that if he had a time machine, he wouldn't write a book about his escapades and send it back in time.
The user the computer was currently displaying was Netzen.
"That guy's pretty lame," he thought. "I'll get to him later."
"NEXT."
Now it was displaying Bwave.
"That's better."
He followed the same steps as before. Research, Plan, Questionmarks, Profit. This time, his research revealed more interesting facts.
"Bwave's a weatherman now? What the hell?"
This made Jello think of Bwave's old signature.
So, how's the weather? ~Bwave
It became his obsession to find out as much about weather as he could, because Ju Ju wouldn't answer his question.
"Hm, I probably have to get Ju Ju too."
He put Ju Ju's name down in his Pudda. The term "Pudda" had entered the vocabulary several years earlier, to refer to Personal Digital Assistants. Jello thought it was pretty stupid, but "PDA" had become outdated, so he decided to stay with the times.
This time, Jello felt that he wanted to take a few more risks. "Just for preperation," he justified. He always wanted to improve himself. He was going to kill Bwave, preferably in the news studio he worked at. "It's a good thing everything is in HD," Jello said, "or the viewers wouldn't get to see every piece of him plastered against the walls."
His trip took place the next day. He slept in his bed, glad to be home. He didn't even bother unpacking his weapons from the trunk.
This trip wasn't too long, either. However, it was quite draining. He was going to stay in a motel for the night.
"This place is one crappy shack," he said. "I don't know why, but it's perfect." His stay was uneventful. Be glad I'm leaving out the most boring parts.
The next day, he felt perfectly energized. He didn't even bother paying for the motel. He got in his car, and looked at the clock. "I should be there just before anybody else is," he said.
Traffic wasn't bad yet. The sun still hadn't risen. This gave him hope.
As he pulled up to the news station, he remarked that it was very small. "Lawl, this ain't no Onion Channel affiliate." During the time between his stay at the forum and the present, The Onion, once a satirical news source, became one of the last dependable real news sources.
Jello popped the trunk open and retrieved two rolls of a light-blue material with darker dots placed in a grid. He placed them in a backpack.
He went up to the glass door leading into the news room. He tugged on it, and it was locked.
"No matter," he reminded himself. He used a knife from his pocket to open the door. "These guys are too trustworthy," he said. Jello entered with caution.
He looked left. Break room. Right in front of him was the main news desk. "I wonder if they really do wear pants under this thing," he said. He pulled a small camera out of his backpack and placed it in a corner underneath the desk. "Unnecessary, but a good question."
He then looked right. "Aha!" he exclaimed. "The weatherman's green-screen presentation station." He had come up with this rhyme on the drive to the city.
Jello took one of the blue rolls of material out of his backpack. and placed it upon the wall perpendicular to the green screen. It suddenly vanished. "My own invention," he said. "Flexible batteries with a lethal charge and invisibility."
He took the other roll and placed it on the opposite wall. It vanished just as quickly. He then set up a voice trigger that would complete a circuit the third time Bwave said "Tuesday." Everything was ready. He then proceeded to find the security cameras that would have definitely taken his image.
"Here's one," he said. He followed the cable to a room next to the break room. There were monitors lining the room, all displaying various parts of the building. He opened the small computer which was storing everything, took out the hard drive, and put it in his backpack. All traces of his existence gone, he left the building quite quickly.
Jello figured that he would head home while tuning his PDA into the station to watch. He got into his car, placed his PDA upon his dashboard, and got on the freeway, heading back home. After several hours of driving, the news started at seven o' clock. He was waiting for the third five-day forecast, when most people would be watching.
News. News. News. It was the same as he had heard the other day. The country's political structure was falling apart. This didn't concern him, however. He was above the law. Finally, the third five-day forecast.
"Saturday will be absolutely gorgeous, with a high of 82 degress and a low of 42..."
Saturday, he would be home, taking a day of rest. No more meticulous planning until the next day.
"Sunday, the high will drop a little to 78 degrees."
Sunday, Jello would begin planning his next attack again.
"Monday, the high will continue falling to 75."
Monday, Jello would be traveling to his next location.
"The dip in temperature won't continue for too long, however. On Tuesday-"
It happened.
The charge from the flexible battery reached the other wall where the electricity attraction fabric was, shooting through Bwave in the process. The fabric had another feature, however. Once all of the energy had reached it, it created a large explosion, bringing the entire building down. Demolition was one of his favorite parts of his murders.
The moment the electricity shot through Bwave, he exploded. The green screen was covered in red, and his charred, mangled body dropped off screen, and was buried underneath the rubble.
Only Jello knew what was going to happen on Tuesday.
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