Walking! JK Rolling!
Dress as a professor. They barely cover anything important.
On the right palm, on the forehead, on the left palm, and on the abdomen. The first victim is discovered in the Florida Everglades. 0, 8, 2 on his hands and forehead. 5 on his abdomen. “We believe the numbers may be significant,” a uniformed man reads from a prepared statement to the press, “but we cannot say for sure at this time.” Detective Pierce has seen more faces of death than any man should ever have to endure, but this case—this seems different, somehow. Another victim is discovered in the marshes of Louisiana soon after. 0, 8, 0 on her hands and forehead. 19 on her abdomen. Are they connected? Law enforcement in Louisiana contact the agency in Florida. Criminal psychologists and cipher experts are called in to decode the strange numerical messages. Nothing yet. There isn’t enough data. Detective Pierce knows, if there is a deeper meaning, it will only surface with more bodies. To solve the murder, more must be committed. A cruel irony. A third victim emerges, and a macabre certainty is apparent—a serial killer. 0, 6, 9; 2 “What could it mean?” Detective Pierce ponders over a table littered with dozens of photographs. The psychological stress begins to weigh on him. He first began the investigation into the mysterious number killings, and he now makes it his mission to discover the secret of these symbols and put an end to this evil. More victims. 0, 7, 1; 6 0, 6, 5; 10 0, 7, 8; 8 0, 7, 3; 12 0, 6, 9; 4 0, 7, 8; 9 “069 repeats!” the authorities notice after the ninth victim is discovered. “It’s certainly a code!” “And here! The victims with 8 and 9 on the abdomen have identical numbers on the hands and forehead too: both 0, 7, 8.” Detective Pierce broods over this information. He locks himself away with the numbers, poring through literature about ciphers and codes. He devises complex algorithms to analyze the data, looking for patterns. Pierce has always put work before his family. His colleagues will all tell you that. But the domestic strain from the number killings is pushing his relationships to the brink of collapse. Another body in Florida. 0, 8, 5; 17 Pierce is on the scene, crouching over the Number Killer’s latest conquest, examining the slapdash 17 scrawled unceremoniously on the abdomen. “Detective Pierce.” A voice from behind him. Pierce stands and peels the purple nitrile gloves from his hands and glowers at the intruder on his crime scene. “Agent Rickson. Federal Bureau of Investigation. This is my crime scene now, sir. I’ll need a full briefing.” “The hell it is!” Pierce snaps back. “I’ve been working these killings from day one! You think you can just come in here with your federal mandate and expect me to catch you up on all the work my people have done?!” Agent Rickson hands Pierce a bound legal envelope. “You’ve been relieved.” “This isn’t over. You’re gambling with people’s lives…sir.” Detective Pierce practically spits the final word at the agent’s feet before snatching the envelope and rushing off the scene. Over the next two weeks, eight more victims. Pierce’s anxiety has left him unable to leave his office. He hasn’t been home in three days. Though he’s officially off the case, he’s still haunted by the numbers and mounting body count. His work has suffered to the point that his superiors have issued reprimands. At his wits’ end, Detective Pierce pulls officer Malloy into his office. Malloy is a rookie who’s eager to please and has a knack for numbers. “I need you on special assignment, rookie.” Pierce is looking pensively out his office window when Malloy enters. “Special assignment, sir?” “Secret, special assignment, Malloy.” He turns and places a sealed envelope on the table. “I need you to collect everything we have on the Number Killings. Meet me at the address enclosed here. Tomorrow night. Midnight. Tell no one.” “But sir, I thought you had been reliev-” “Dammit, rookie! Do you want more people to die?! We need to figure out this nonsense now or we’re going to end up with dead bodies in triple digits, son!” Malloy reluctantly agrees. He smuggles boxes of files and pictures out of the precinct late the next night and meets Pierce at an abandoned warehouse to go over the information. For hours, the two sit at opposite tables, running numbers, delving into research, and analyzing the evidence, late into the early hours of the morning. With a sudden energetic vigor, Malloy springs from his chair and cries out, “ASCII!” Startled out of his analytic trance, Pierce inquires, “What did you say, Malloy?” “ASCII! It’s a computer language that uses numbers to represent letters! Look!” Malloy pulls up a reference sheet and begins arranging numbers on Pierce’s desk. “If we take the abdomen numbers as the order, and the palm and foreheadnumbers as the code for the letter…” “Malloy, you’re a genius!” Working furiously, Pierce and Malloy clear a space on the dusty warehouse floor to lay out the pictures in sequence: Abdomens: 6, 12, 17… G, I, U… 4, 9, 11… E, N, G… In minutes, the men have spread 76 photos over a 10 foot square of the warehouse floor and scratched nervous letters on ripped sheets of notebook paper under each group corresponding to the symbol. As they finish, Malloy stands back to survey the message. “No…” All blood drains from his face. His legs go weak, and he collapses onto his knees. “It can’t…It just…It can’t! Detective Pierce is wide-eyed next to Malloy’s broken form, mouth agape. A sound from the warehouse wall rattles the building as a dozen federal agents storm the facility. “Mother of God…” Pierce doesn’t even notice the agents. His unbroken stare is consumed by the message on the dusty warehouse floor. Agent Rickson grabs hold of Detective Pierce. “You’re under arrest for interfering with a federal investigation and tampering with evidence.” Malloy sheepishly confesses. “I told them everything! I told them you wanted me to take the evidence. It was a setup. I was worried about you. I’m sorry! But I never thought…oh God! What can we do?!” Pierce is handcuffed, and as he is dragged backward from the grotesque mosaic of death, he laughs in spite of himself, “You monster…” As he comes back to his senses, Pierce begins tearing at the agents pulling him away. He lets out a shrill, animalistic shriek… “YOU MONSTER!!” The other agents crowd around the space on the floor that has itself become a crime scene, and in an eerie silence, they collectively ponder the ethereal message left by the elusive Numbers Killer: “NEVER GONNA GIVE YOU UP” EDIT (TLDR): Thanks for the support, and also some people are asking for a tldr because (obviously) it's really long. Here's a video to basically sum it up. Have a nice day. Also, thank you /u/about_tyme for ASCII number edits.
"Doris" "Doris who?" "Doris locked, that's why im knocking."
A truck driver stopped at a roadside diner for lunch and ordered a cheeseburger, coffee and a slice of apple pie. As he was about to eat, three bikers walked in.
One grabbed the trucker's cheeseburger and took a huge bite from it. The second one drank the trucker's coffee, and the third wolfed down his apple pie. The truck driver didn't say a word as he paid the waitress and left. As the waitress walked up, one of the motorcyclists growled, "He ain't much of a man, is he?" "He's not much of a driver, either," the waitress replied. "He just backed his 18-wheeler over three motorcycles."
A pregnant woman hobbles painfully into the hospital with one hand on her back. A nurse rushes over to her and asks her what’s wrong, but the woman just shouts, “Shouldn’t! Wouldn’t! Didn’t!” The nurse shakes her head and says, “Sorry, I don’t understand!” The woman screams, “Can’t! Won’t! Don’t!”
The nurse is really confused and turns to a doctor who says, “Admit her immediately!! She’s having contractions!!”
Then God said there is no Steven Hawking
“Why are you driving so slow, ma’am?” The old lady replies, “Because it’s the speed limit, don’t you see the signs?” The cop says, “Those aren’t speed limit signs, it actually says you are on Highway 35.” The cop notices her three passengers look absolutely terrified. “What’s wrong with them?” the cop asks. The old lady answers, “Not sure, they’ve looked like that since I got off Highway 109.”
Well, maybe once in a Blue Moon.
Best joke I have still ever overheard. Dad to his buddies while I’m 10 years old listening from the porch.
This guy walks into a bar with his briefcase in hand and he’s mad. He sits at the bar, puts his case down and orders a drink. The bartender serves him right up and asks the man what’s got him down. The man gives a disappointed grin and tells the bartender that he can just show him. He opens his briefcase and out pops a tiny person about a foot tall that begins to play his miniature piano. Of course the bartender is amazed and is just about to ask where he found this little guy but is cut off by the man who informs him that there’s a genie outside his bar granting people wishes for free. The bartender sprints outside but comes right back only minutes later followed by an army of quacking ducks that fill the whole place. Angrily, the bartender says to the first man that the genie has: “ Gotta be deaf man! I ask for a million bucks and get a million ducks…” First man says “ Bro, you think I asked for a twelve inch pianist?”
Because they can't even.
Parrot didn't know what hit it.
So I can say to people "hey look, it's a terrorwrist".
My ex-girlfriend used to give me nicknames whilst giving me head. "The Impaler" was my favourite. Well, at least, that's what I thought she said…. Turns out she's asthmatic and it's my fault she died.
Yesterday I paid a stranger to knock me unconscious, shove a foreign object up my ass and film the whole thing.
Or as my doctor insists on calling it, a colonoscopy
It nuts and bolts
I just came to that conclusion.
Every calculator counts.
Because autism is rarely diagnosed before the age of 3
"I can arrange some things for you," the devil says. "I'll get you billions of dollars, unlimited political influence, and anything else you can dream of. All I ask for in return is death, disease and poverty for millions of people around the world." The politician thinks for a moment and says, “What's the catch?"
Because they're good at it
One turns to other and says, "Its awfully quiet on deck tonight. Isn't it?" Other recruit replies, "Everyone must be watching the band." "There is no band on this ship." "No, I definitely heard the captain say, a band on ship."
The leaning tower of pisa
Give it a weigh, give it a weigh, give it a weigh now.
If you have to force it, it’s probably shit.
I could not take the pane.
They LAVA good joke!
… now get ready for Times New Ramen
I mean, on the one hand, yes, but on the other hand, no.
Cop 2: Hate crime? Cop 1: Of course I hate crime, moron. That’s why I’m a cop.
My screen is blue, I think I deleted system32.
a mother was working in the kitchen listening to her young son playing with his new electric train in the living room. She heard the train stop and her son said, "All of you sons of bitches who want off, get the hell off now, cause this is the last stop! And all of you sons of bitches who are getting on, get your asses in the train, cause we're going down the tracks." The mother went nuts and told her son, "We don't use that kind of language in this house. Now I want you to go to your room and you are to stay there for TWO HOURS. When you come out, you may play with your train, but I want you to use nice language." Two hours later, the son comes out of the bedroom and resumes playing with his train. Soon the train stopped and the mother heard her son say, "All passengers who are disembarking from the train, please remember to take all of your belongings with you. We thank you for riding with us today and hope your trip was a pleasant one. We hope you will ride with us again soon." She hears the little boy continue, "For those of you just boarding, we ask you to stow all of your hand luggage under your seat. Remember, there is no smoking on the train. We hope you will have a pleasant and relaxing journey with us today." As the mother began to smile, the child added, "For those of you who are pissed off about the TWO HOUR delay, please see the bitch in the kitchen."