The Problem With Perfection

Channel 17 broadcasting studio, Alcony Tower, Central Raintown square, Centran, 3:00 P.M., July 5th, 2006*

*~July 5th Australian date.

Andrew Levlon was in the editing room.

"There is a place on the planet of regions, or as the locals call it: Rhombodian full of the worst kind of person. People who are full of themselves." Andrew's voice echoed from a screen he was watching. He paused the footage in disgust.

The door opened.

"Ah, Kevin! Did you get all of that?" Andrew asked without turning around. "I think my performance was rather flat, don't you think?"

The person who opened the door moved closer.

"Come on Kevin, I'm ready to hear your honest opinion." Andrew noted.

The stranger didn't say a word.

Andrew finally turned to face his visitor. "You're not Kevin, who are you?"

The stranger grabbed something out of his pocket.

"What are you doing with that letter opener?" Andrew noted with a fear-filled tone.

The stranger got closer.

"Look, whatever you're going to do, just do it, I won't say anything, I swear," Andrew stated.

The stranger shook their head, they were not going to take that chance. The stranger got even closer.

"No!" Andrew shouted as the stranger stabbed his throat. The stranger then brought up some footage on the editor, the only evidence of the other murder that they had committed. He then erased it and left.