(A metal chair sits in a pool of light. Bucket, in prison attire and shackles, enters and takes a seat in the chair.)

Bucket: I came upon the German in the middle of a man-made forest. He was a beefy, disgusting looking fellow. Sweaty. The kind of sweat that only morbidly obese people produce, a sort of misty gloss over the entirety of their bodies - as if they'd overstuffed themselves with butter and grease until it was forced back out, through their pores, dampening their skin. I hid behind a tree and watched him lower his lips to the murky liquid and begin to drink. He was so much bigger than me. There was no chance of overpowering him; I had to employ a sneak attack, and this was the perfect moment. As he gurgled down mouthful after mouthful of chalky liquid, I spotted several thick red vines dangling from a tree branch above me. I reached up and, as quietly as I could, pulled the crimson ropes from their nesting place. Coiling the slack around both my hands, I stepped out of the shadows and approached the vile sausage-stuffer. I could feel my pulse beating in my neck, the adrenaline coursing through my youthful veins - David was about to take down Goliath. He must have caught a glimpse of me reflected in the river; his hands shot up, attempting to block the vines. Too late! I wrapped them around his jowly throat. The noose was set. And, I began to tighten it. He flailed like a child swatting at a fly. His blows ricocheted, feebly, off my thighs and arms. He made a valiant attempt to claw me from his back, but I was determined. Over the next several seconds, I watched the color of his face slowly saturate from a creamy white to a deep purplish-blue. Eventually his muscles seized and he stopped moving. His pupils dilated. I pulled the rope even tighter and watched as a single tear was squeezed from the corner of his right eye. It rolled down his face and tumbled off his cheek into the muddy river below. Once I was certain he was dead, I loosed my grip from his neck and pushed him from the bank into the rolling estuary. His gargantuan corpse floated for several seconds. They say mass plus volume equals buoyancy. If that's true, he should have floated considerably longer than he did, but, after only a few moments, his body disappeared beneath the current. I wish I could say I thought of his family or the things he might have done with his life, but all I really thought was: "one down, three more to go." If it's any consolation to those who loved him, he came out the other side a tasty little morsel. The feel of his marinated flesh in my mouth was thick, buttery, gelatinous. You are what you eat. (Bucket pulls out a cigarette, lights it. Takes a few long inhales. A moment.) "Why? Why did I eat them?" How the fuck should I know? Maybe it was to destroy the evidence. Maybe it was a momentary psychotic break. Maybe I'm just a monster, like the newspapers say. Or maybe - maybe it was because I was hungry. Maybe it was because I was fucking hungry! You ever think of that? Did any of you ever think of that? Of course not. You don't understand where I come from. I had nothing. My whole life I had nothing! All the rest of them - they were set before any of it - before it even began. This wasn't their ticket, it was mine! They didn't need it like I needed it. Hunger will do that to you, you know? When you're born hungry, it creates a deep rooted need in you, a bottomless pit in your stomach, and you spend the rest of your life trying to fill that void, trying to satiate the hunger, trying to ensure you'll never go hungry again. Never! That's what this was about for me. That's why I survived. I walked through those gates determined. And, hungry. I almost got away with it too, didn't I? Those little fuckers! Ungrateful bastards! I should have killed them while I had the chance. (A moment. Bucket begins to laugh.) You know, I can still recall the smell, fermenting sugar. Acrid. That stink, like the scent of rotting flesh, is not something that ever truly leaves your nostrils... here's the smell of the blood still: all the perfumes of Arabia... and so on and so forth... but what can you do? What can you oompa-loompa-doom-pa-dee-do?

(Lights fade to black.)

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