Scotland Yard chief, Giuseppe Mellow, was found dead yesterday in an abandoned dance studio in Chelsea. Local breakdance crew leader, William “Groove Wizard” Atkinson (who asked to be named), made the gruesome discovery around 9am. Mellow had sustained injuries including multiple gunshot and knife wounds, third degree burns, partial disembowelment and beheading. Despite an apparent suicide note, police are treating his death as suspicious.
Since his appointment to Scotland yard twelve months ago, Mellow’s crackdown on organised crime earned him many underworld enemies, and he had received several death threats.
At this point I was going to include police statements, write a little about Mellow’s achievements, and then finish with a touching mention of the wife and children he leaves behind. As usual, Gary knew better.
Gary Bicknell, you may know, is the editor of this once-reputable newspaper.
Gary’s gaping absence of decency, maniacal paranoia and shameless greed inspired him to march into my office last night and demand that every horrific detail of Giuseppe Mellow’s murder appear in this article. When I protested, Gary threatened to fire me. This seems to be his standard response to reason. Gary is a moron and a black belt a***hole.
Loyal reader, our editor is terrified that the internet will be the end of newspapers. He thinks the only way to compete is with outrageous claims, smut and graphic violence. “Sensationalism gets subscriptions,” is the motto.
I have no hesitation writing this; Gary rarely reads this publication anymore. It will go to print, I know. Celia won’t stop it. She hates Gary more than I do—and if you think this casts Gary in an unfavourable light, you should read Celia’s resignation letter. Gary, you soulless, self-obsessed wanker, you can consider this my resignation letter.
But I don’t want to appear bitter, so here they are, Gary. Just as you commanded. The details of Giuseppe Mellow’s death. Knowing this newspaper profited from a few extra sales will surely comfort Mrs Mellow and her children…
Giuseppe Mellow endured what must have been hours of torture. He was shot in both knees and in the stomach. The stomach wound had received basic medical treatment, preventing him from bleeding to death. His face, neck and chest were severely battered. His nose was burned off his face; the soles of his feet were also burned. His back had been flayed in thin strips, and the skin tied together as a blindfold over his eyes. His right hand was cut off and seemed to have been used as paintbrush to write a message on the floor in blood: I HAVE YOUR NAME. But who wrote the message? There were no footprints, no fingerprints, not a hair. Just a few shortbread crumbs and the electric drill used to—good lord, I can’t bring myself to write it. Swelling around Mellow’s brain, broken ribs, shattered collar bone, cracked eye socket, spine…
That’s enough. If you want any more, you are as sick as Gary.
Cancel your subscription. Just get your news from the internet. It can’t be any worse than this sh**.
—The London Watcher, 16th June 1999, Page 4.
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