Why cant Murdered people hold their breath on TV?

“Here he comes!” Mat said as he pointed to the man holding a large axe dripping with blood, leaving a trail behind him as walked by. 

“Is he the killer?” Tom asked, his voice quivering?

“No, he’s just an axe salesman that only comes out at night.” Mat said rolling his eyes. 

“Be quiet!” Shirley growled.

Why, it’s not like he can hear or see us.” Mat said, but no sooner had he said that, then the killer lurched forward making all of them jump.

Thankfully, his attention was only on the man cowering behind a trash can.

“No please!” The man begged, as the killer swung the axe like a baseball bat and the cowering man’s head came off like it was a Tee-ball on a stand.

Yet even without a head the man somehow managed to let out a few more screams as the killer kept hacking at him.

The three watched in mute fascination. But they didn’t stay mute for long. 

“Look! He’s still breathing!” Mat said as the killer moved away from the bloody corpse. 

“He is not!” his sister Shirley groaned. 

“He is too! His chest is still moving up and down.” Mat pointed to the TV screen. 

Sure enough the corpse chest was faintly moving up in down. Even all the fake bright red blood on TV couldn’t cover that up. 

But even if her annoying brother was right, Shirley wasn’t about to tell him. After a hard day of work, she only had a weekend to watch a nice old fashion movie with her hubby Tom. As her deadbeat brother hadn’t moved out yet, they were forced to watch with him and all his annoying comments.  

“He can't be breathing, he had his head cut off and it rolled five feet away from his chest,” Tom said. 

Shirley smiled at her husband, glad he was on her side, even if he wasn’t into scary movies. 

“You know, the actor is still alive,” Mat said giving his sister a look.

“Mat, I’m fully aware the actor on screen is only playing a person who got his head cut off and isn’t really dead. But it’s a movie. So stop pointing out plot holes, and just enjoy the film.” 

 “Maybe we should just watch the…”

“A plot hole, my dear sister,” Matt continue speaking slower in a tone that was beyond sarcastic. “Is no one want’s to make out in a grave yard. Yes, it’s quite, but what girl would find it a turn on. Come on honey, lets make out on my grannies tomb stone? Who does that?”

“Eww.” said Tom.  

“It’s a movie, you need Suspension of disbelief. Don't focus so much on how you would have done something better.”  

“Uh Guys,” Tom said weekly knowing it was pointless at this point, ‘Cant we just…”

 “You know, they only have to show a dead body for one second, they couldn't get the actor to hold his breath better, or something.” Matt said.   I can tell as he's still breathing.” 

“It’s not like there going to really cut a persons head off just so it will look right on TV.” Shirley said. 

“Good lord, can you imagine the dedication from the actor?” Tom said half laughing. 

“Well, maybe they wouldn’t tell him, or her till it’s to late and there under contract.

“No contract is that strong.”Shirley said. rolling her eyes. 

“Oh God I hope not.” Tom said worried. 

 “We will return to ‘Under the Blood moon in midsummer mystery’ after this short message.”

“Short my ass, these freaking commercials take forever. This show would only be an hour if it wasn't for these damn ads.” Matt grumbled. 

“We could just rent the show at Red Box, than we wouldn't have to sit through the ads? asked Tom. 

“These are tapes, the old fart owners before us left a bunch of VHS taps of already recorded programs. But the cheep bastards didn’t bother to turn the VCR off and on so they recorded the commercials as well.”

“Well, we could look for better tapes at the old movie store.” Tom asked. The one thats still in in business because of porn.” Tom added that last line so his wife wouldn’t hear him.  

“I already tried that.” said Matt.

“You, tried, theres a first” his sister mumble, but Matt resisted the urge to give her a snappy comeback.

 Tom was a nice enough guy, way nicer than he ever thought his sister would find, he didn't mean to stress him out. It wasn't Toms fault he was an only child and didn't understand there brother sister drama. 

“Yes, I tried. I went to the movie store, they hadn’t heard of this TV show, so were all stuck watching the old VHS that we found in the basement. 

“Well, its well written, but it looks like a cheep budget show, so maybe it only lasted one season?” 

“If it’s so cheep, why do the effect look so good, aside from the blood. We all know real blood isn't that red.

“Maybe we could ask the original owners of the house? Mr and Miss Smith?” asked Tom. 

“Nawww, they might get mad we are watching there tapes and demand them back. I want to finish these first.” said Matt.

Finally, after a very long commercial on a Toys-R-Us ad, the killer was back on screen. Shirley wasn’t sure if he was supposed to be a knock off of Jason for Freddy Krueger but the way he limped and yet still moved with a surprising speed made her shudder in a good way, as she liked to be scared. 

The killer limped out of the dark, yet oddly well let alley and the camera gave another close up on the dead man. Who, as much as Shirley hated to admit, was clearly breathing, and she noticed a wire that gave away where the fake blood was coming from tucked in his shirt.  She hoped her brother didn’t see it, but he did.

“Look, I’m not saying they have to really cut his head off.” Matt said. 

“Why are we still talking about this?” Tom groaned.

 “Couldn't they say to the actor, hold your bloody breath ten seconds? How hard is that? Don’t they they take more than one shot?”

“It's just a show.” Shirley said annoyed. 

“Oh it’s not just a show.” said Matt, and Shirley knew he was going for another lecture. “You're supposed to be so focused on the story you forget it's scripted, you care about the characters. That means not seeing gaping plot holes like bloody breathing corpses. It takes me out of the story.” 

Matt went on for another few minutes before Shirley couldn’t take it anymore and said “I’m going for a smoke, outside.” 

“See, this is why you don’t care, you leave and don't follow the story.” Matt said. 

*****

Shirley took a long breath of smoke and invalid in the warm air.  

She looked down at her phone and tried to look up the show. But it wasn’t coming up. 

She briefly found her self wondering if the old couple, mr and miss smith had fights like this with their sibling, or even each other. She also felt bad for her husband, she could tell he was getting spooked, she just needed to remind him that they lived in a nice little cozy neighborhood. Not like the big scary old Victorian home-turned-hotel bed and breakfast the Smiths had bought after selling this house. Which was odd, as most old couples sized down, but they had sized up. She also wondered  if they were scared, as it was Halloween. Even she’d be scared to watch a horror movie in the Smith new house. 

She kept scrolled on her phone ‘Twighlt moon…. Sailor Moon… Midsummer murder moon .. but found nothing. 

As she looked her eyes drifted up from her phone to an odd shape in the backyard. 

She snorted to herself thinking about how if Matt was here he’d scream it’s the killer and bolt inside.

She got closer, and saw the shape wasn’t a new lawn gnome, … it was….

She stopped in her tracks and felt her hart drop into her stomach when she saw what it was.. or rather, who it was.

It was the milkman, lying near the croquet set, or at-lest she thought it was the milkman. There were broken milk bottles by him and he was wearing all white, with his milkman hat by his side. 

“What was he doing out at night” Shirley thought. He wasn’t supposed to come till 5am. She looked over at the fallen man, and as she got closer she gasped. 

His arms and legs were pined to the ground with the steel wickets, which where almost completely shoved in the ground. 

His head had been bashed in with the Croquet mallet. 

Matt was right, ( for once) the blood didn’t look anything like the blood you see on TV, as it wasn't as bright red, it was almost brown, which was even worse as it was all over his not so white outfit, making it show up more. 

But that wasn’t the most gruesome part. What truly turned her stomach, was that a Croquet balls was shoved in his mouth, which were big balls, meaning his jaw and must have been broken to make it fit in. 

“Honey, I think I got Netflix to work, so what movie do you want to see?” Tom asked from inside. 

“Oh God!” she yelled. 

“Really, that old George Burns movie?” Tom asked opening the door. “Well ok, Im not sure if Netflix has it but…” He stopped looking at his wife and looked down at the crumbled man by her feet.

“Oh my god…”

“Now he’s looks dead!” said Matt coming in from behind him. A week laugh coming out, but it was clearly forced. 

“No, Wait, he's still breathing!” Matt said exasperated. 

“WHAT!” Yelled Shirley. Was her brother really this dumb? 

“Really! He’s breathing, here get your nose hair… I mean compact mirror.” Matt said bending down to the dead man. 

Yes, he was that dumb, but she knew Matt was serious when he cut off calling her compact mirror a nose hair mirror, so she reached into her back pocket and threw it to him.  

Matt placed the mirror under the bloody body of the Milkman’s nose, and held his cell phone flash light to it. Almost instantly, they saw the mirror fog up.

“He is alive!” Tom said and bent down to remove the steel wickets from his arms. They came out with a few good tugs and the Milkman started to wiggle his arms limply. 

But just as Matt started dialing 911 Shirley saw something shinny in the not so dead Milkman's hand that she hadn’t seen earlier.  

She instantly recognized it as a small but still sharp knife and jerked out of the way before it came for her face. 

Despite the fact Matt was closer the milkman eyes were on her, and her alone.

The Milkman’s not so limp after all hand swung at her a few more times before plunging the knife into the ground inches from her shoes. Both her husband and brother grabbed her shoulders, and yanked her off the ground.

“You shouldn’t have pulled up the steel wickets out, they were holding him down.” said Matt to Tom. 

“It’s a little late for should haves.” said Shirley. 

“He’s moving closer.” said Tom as the Milkman slowly crawled to his feet, shaky, but still standing tall over them. 

The Milkman stood up in full, but not before putting his hat on which had blood splattered on it covering up the logo that said ‘happy valley milk co. You wont be sorry to milk with us.’ Shirley made a metal note that If they lived threw this she would never drink milk again. 

“How can he move at all, theres a chuck of his head missing.” asked Tom holding onto Shirley. 

“It’s not missing, its just caved in.” corrected Matt.

“Is he a zombie?” Tom asked half joking and half starting to fear their could be truth to it. 

“Don’t be silly,” said Matt who considered himself an expert on all things Zombies “He’s not a zombie he’s just been… assaulted or robbed, or something, maybe he got in a fight with his milk-wife or girlfriend and she kicked him out.” 

“Ok, …But than why does he have a knife than?” asked Tom. 

The milkman tried to growl, like a hungry animal, but it came out more as a gargle as he still had the ball in his mouth.

Now Shirley realized it wasn’t a Croquet ball in his jaw after all, it was a ball gag, and it wasn’t a milkman outfit he had on, it was white latex. Which was why it was so shiny in the moonlight. 

But the blood was real, she could smell it. But was it really his blood, or had he poured it all over himself? How had he gotten himself nailed down to the Croquet set? Where was the real Milkman? All these thoughts ran threw her mind as the milkman, who wasn’t a milkman but thats what she was going to call him in her mind, came closer to her. His eyes were big, and wild with rage.  

“Split up!” shouted Matt.

“Matt you Dummy! “ shouted Shirley “We need to stay together, this isn't a Scooby-Doo episode! We have to…”

“But Matt took off like a bat out of hell, and oddly enough ( as if this who situation wasn't already odd) the milkman seemed confused by this split up and he turned trying to see who he should go after now.

Maybe his eyes hadn't been on Shirley after all. Maybe they had been on all of them.

The milkman made leaps to Matt, who was trying to hid behind the shed. 

“HEY! Leave my brother alone!” Shirley shouted. “Over here!” she shouted than turned back to her husband. “Tom, go inside and call the cops!” 

“But… but…” Tom stuttered not wanting to leave his wife, or even Matt alone. What if the time he was inside the killer got both of them. 

“Just do it” Shirley said as the milkman, turned, and snorted like a bull at Shirley. 

How does he breath with at ball-gage? Shirley wondered as he changed paths and leaped to her, but she was faster.

“Try and catch me you crazy…” but Shirley lost her confidence as well as her balance when she fell over a lawn flamingo and got her legs stuck in the string hammock. 

At-lest she hadn’t twisted her ankle, like every other girl in a scary movie in this kind of situation, but her fear made it hard to untangle her legs from the hammock. She might as well have been in a beer trap. 

Without even thinking about it, Tom who was still holding the steel wickets jumped behind the milkman and shoved the pointy end of the wickets into the killers chest, right where his hart would be. 

Unfortunately, the wickets broke off on his chest with a clank, like metal hitting metal, and the killer looked more annoyed than hurt. He must have been wearing a vest or something.

‘Stupid cheep Croquet wickets,’ Tom thought as the crazed bloody milkman came after him. “My wife is going to die because I had to safe five dollars. I knew I should have gotten the real steel wickets and not the cheep kind.”

But as if there minds were in sink, his wife took this momentary distraction to pick up the lawn flamingo, the very one she had tripped on and shove the sharp metal feet into the milkman’s neck. The only part that wasn’t covered up. 

By now the killer was so focused on Tom he moved three steps as if he didn't even notice, then stopped and grabbed at his neck.

He yanked it out, which they both knew from watching ER reruns was the last thing you do with a wound. There was enough real blood they could fill a kiddy pool.

Meanwhile Matt who been cowering behind the lawn chair, screamed when he saw the blood spray out like a fountain from the milkman’s neck. He’d had been right, real blood wasn't bright red, but it was still unsettling seeing so much of it at once.  

The killer let out a gurgled curse, and before falling down, face first he gave them the finger.

*********

Meanwhile, in an old Victorian home, not to far away, Mr and Miss Smith leaned back pleased with their latest video recording of the young couple from there living room. 

“Well that was entertaining.” Miss Smith said smiling at her husband. 

“Yes, I told you that guy was an amateur killer when we hired him and the couple would be able to get away.” said Mr Smith. “You were all worried for nothing. Although I was rather hoping he would give that annoying brother a good slashing or to.”

“Yes, well than he'd have an excuse to mooch off there couch even longer.” Miss Smith pointed out.

“Good point, but I hope he does move out soon.” Mr. Smith said looking at Matt from there TV screen, who was back on the couch sleeping. “Lazy bum, I just hate guys like him, who point out plot holes all day. There so full of themselves. He thinks he's so smart and he hasn't noticed one hidden camera we installed in the house before we sold it.” 

Miss Smith sighed, before saying ‘Your just mad he called you an old farts.”

“He called us old farts.” Mr Smith said annoyed. 

“Well what does he know?” Miss Smith said. “Besides actually knowing to check to see if the victims breathing that is.”

“Beginners luck.” scoffed Mr. Smith unimpressed. 

“Well, I like this couple, let’s not send a real killer over any time soon.” said Miss Smith getting out her knitting needles. Not until they don’t see it coming that is.” she added winking.  

“Right, dear,” Mr. Smith said kissing his wife on the forehead. 

He was so glad they had decided to do this instead of the bed and breakfast idea they had originally planned for the house. Until they found the room with all the cameras installed in every house in the neighborhood. Exactly what the original owners had planned with those cameras was unknown before they came here. But seeing real people had become more addicting than cigarettes, and when they got less interesting, thats when they started sending people to make their lives more fun to watch. The thrill that they might kill off the neighbors they actually liked was with kept them coming back for more. 

It’s not like theres any good scary movie on cable tv anyway. Not scenes they canceled “Under the Blood moon in midsummer mystery” Miss Smith said.

“I know dear, that’s why I’m glad we make our own.” said Mr. Smith.