My name is Edmond Halley. I was born on November 8th, 1656.
  I will earn lasting fame for predicting the movement of a comet that shall not be seen again in these skies until some nineteen years hence.
The date is January 9th, 1742. In five days time I shall be dead.
But this is not my story.
  ~ Found Art Theatre Presents ~
Interview With A Madman
~ A Webcomic In One Part ~
Good evening. I'm insane.
Or so they tell me, anyway.

I tell them I'm a cowboy; they tell me I'm insane. But there are more of them, so they get to be right.

That's justice for you.
  So. You want to know why I did it?

Hmm. Lets talk about school, shall we?

The formative years.
  When I was six years old, I realised I wanted to kill someone. More than that, I realised that I wanted to kill a lot of someones.

I don't remember if I knew the term serial killer back then.
  I know by the time I was eight or so I'd read several books on the subject.

But back when I was six years old, when I first realised, I'm not sure that I knew exactly the right term for it.
    But I knew, basically, that that was what I wanted to be.

A serial killer.

I guess I was abnormally perceptive for a child of that age.
  Of course, serial killing isn't the sort of thing you just rush into.

I figured I had to be sure. Try out all my options first.
So when I was nine, I wanted to be a cowboy. I don't know if English people can really be cowboys.

I think maybe you have to be American. Or Japanese. For some reason Japanese people can be cowboys too.
When I was ten, I wanted to be an astronaut. I had more fun wanting to be a cowboy, to be honest. But I felt it important not to get stuck in a rut.

Astronauts could shoot people with laser guns, which did at least seem a bit more efficient.
When I was eleven, I wanted to be a fireman. Well, for the first six months of being eleven, anyway.

In the last six I wanted to be a racing driver, a deep-sea diver, an archaeologist and a sushi chef. Eleven was sort of my wilderness years.
When I was twelve, I started killing people at a rate of two a month for the next three years.

It really is amazing what you can get away with when you're a teenager.
  I stopped the killing when I was sixteen.

It would be nice to think that I stopped because I'd finally got it all out of my system. That I was ready to move on and live life as a healthy and productive member of society.

In actual fact, I stopped because I was worried about getting caught.

You see, by then I'd started holding conversations about my murders with statues in public galleries.

This, clearly, was not the act of a sane man.
So that was why I stopped. Because by sixteen I knew I was insane.

And insane people make mistakes. And mistakes are what get you caught.
  I'll admit, my life hasn't been quite as interesting since I quit.

Most of the good stuff only happens in my head these days.
I've got a new friend in there.

He calls himself Negative Kung-Fu Joe.
Joe's nothing like me. He's a good guy.

We have long talks about nothing. The way good friends do.
  No, I don't miss the killing.

I mean, sure, it was fun.

But you've got to move on, right?
What do I miss?

I miss the texture you get with sanity.
I miss branches breaking up the world into a million little fragments.
I miss the colour of clocks.
I miss oil paintings seen through panel grating.
I miss the sky.
I miss the reflections of light on time.
So I miss the texture.

But I don't miss sanity.
  I'd take Negative Kung-Fu Joe over sanity, any day.
Joe's got an opinion on everything, so we've always got something to talk about.

He likes to break things with his feet, too. He's a bit obsessive about it, to tell the truth.

But hey, everyone has their little obsessions, right? And it seldom gets in the way of our conversations.

What do you mean, I still haven't answered the question?
Why did I kill all those people?

Oh. Because I felt like it.

What reason did you expect?
Yes. Well.

I did say I was insane, didn't I?

Take it away, Ed.
  A Story by Daniel Merlin Goodbrey  
  The part of The Madman was performed by Walter Plinge.
The part of Negative Kung-Fu Joe was performed by Ian Whitt.
  The performance also featured John Cleese as Teacher No. 5 and Edmond Halley as himself.
This has been a Found Art Theatre production, in association with The End.