Patrick Bateman, American Psycho

[in-doesntmatter.livejournal.com]

Patrick looked at the paper in front of him before looking around the room itself. He didn't recall exactly how he ended up in the room or why, but he wouldn't show this. Maintaining his mechanical smile, Patrick carefully removed a pen from his breast pocket. Exhaling, he casually glanced around. He intended to pick up his sheets, blood stained at 400 thread count, not to be answering some sort of sociological survey that would no doubt try and classify him as something lower than he was.


1. What is your favorite cheese? Why is it your favorite?
Cheese is dairy and often leads to fatty deposits and clogged pores. I stay away from cheese.

2. Who would you kill first, Barney or Carrottop?
I would kill them both, but in very different ways. I'd start by slowly cutting off that purple fucks tail, just to see him scream and maybe sing some child-like lullaby in agonizing pain. Plus, it'd be fun to see him lose balance. Carrottop? He's not worth the energy or wasted resources; a carefully aimed nail gun to the ear will suffice I don't know who Barney or Carrottop is. Someone like me doesn't have to kill anyone. I get what I want other ways.

3. What time is it where you are?
I was supposed to pick up my dry-cleaning at 4pm. I'm never late, so it must be 4.

4. If you were Albus Dumbledore returned from the dead, which member of the Order of the Phoenix would you sexually harass? How would you harass them? If you are Albus Dumbledore, please answer as if you were Sirius Black.
Sexual harassment is so cliche'. I would start by ordering each and everyone to go down on each other in a circle. As they start to eat and devour each other, I'd order them, with quarter-inch screws and 1 1/4 inch stainless steel construction nails, to remove the skin of the person they're fucking.

Next question, please.

5. If you are pushing to be in:

A. Slytherin - please state the clever, witty name of the bar in which you bartend, in the dark.
I'd never bartend, but Pancha Club, uptown, is a great place to meet potential clients, potential one-nights, and potential victims. They also have great coke in the bathrooms.

B. Gryffindor – Debate whether Harry should ultimately end up married to Fred or George. Use examples from a variety of world mythologies to bolster your argument.
Homosexuals should never, under any circumstance be able to marry. What next, legalized murder and fringe benefits for psychopathic murderers?

C. Ravenclaw – You guys are supposed to be smart. Explain why my desk is inundated with paperwork at all times, even though I’m constantly disposing of it.
Because I am an official at P&P and have a penchant for Valentino suits and Oliver Peoples glasses. That's why I have paperwork.

D. Hufflepuff – Prove you are not useless.
I've killed a lot of people. Some girls in the apartment uptown uh, some homeless people maybe 5 or 10 um an NYU girl I met in Central Park. I left her in a parking lot behind some donut shop. I killed Bethany, my old girlfriend, with a nail gun, and some man uh some old faggot with a dog last week. I killed another girl with a chainsaw, I had to, she almost got away and uh someone else there I can't remember maybe a model, but she's dead too. And Paul Allen. I killed Paul Allen with an axe in the face, his body is dissolving in a bathtub in Hell's Kitchen. I don't want to leave anything out here. I guess I've killed maybe 20 people, maybe 40. I have tapes of a lot of it, uh some of the girls have seen the tapes. I even, um... I ate some of their brains, and I tried to cook a little. Tonight I, uh, I just had to kill a LOT of people. And I'm not sure I'm gonna get away with it this time. I guess I'll uh, I mean, ah, I guess I'm a pretty uh, I mean I guess I'm a pretty sick guy.
I live in the American Gardens Building on W. 81st Street on the 11th floor. My name is Patrick Bateman. I'm 27 years old. I believe in taking care of myself and a balanced diet and rigorous exercise routine. In the morning if my face is a little puffy I'll put on an ice pack while doing stomach crunches. I can do 1000 now

6. Offer a bribe to the members of this community so that they will not squib you. Items used in bribery do not necessarily have to belong to the person offering the bribe. Do not threaten us rather than offering a bribe. A threat indicates you either don't really want to be here, or don't have enough sense to answer the question properly. The hat will automatically squib you, regardless of other votes, if you do.
I can offer you some video tapes. I have a lot of video tapes I have to return. I'll give them to you.

"I have read the hogwarts_hocus faq, and understand it is a crazy, cracktastic sorting community and RPG. _______PB_____
I have read the hogwarts_hocus rules and agree to abide by each and every one of them. ____PB_______.
I agree to be a good sport and not get my knickers in a bunch. ______PB_____.
One day, marmalade will rule the world. _______PB ______"

((This is Patrick Bateman. If you know him, it's to be expected, if not, WARNING. HE HAS VERY DETAILED, VIVID, VIOLENT inner-monologues which are represented in italics. He won't really kill anyone, just will think about it. A lot.))

Comments

[waste-lock.livejournal.com]

"Do you have a problem with psychopathic murderers? And what the hell does killing have to do with being gay or not? Is that just part of your whiny metrosexual posturing?"

Yuppie scum.

[in-doesntmatter.livejournal.com]

The boy looks strange; helpless and god-awfully ugly. Poor kid. I wonder how many hits it'd take to kill him with my punches.

"I do, yes. How can you expect this world to continue progressing with status and stature if we allow such defected people- homosexuals and murderers- to have the same rights and liberties as those of us who are hard-working, honest citizens?"

[wh0-kill3d-m3.livejournal.com]

Laura's empathic treecat companion yipped in alarm at the newcomer, and by the time she'd read down to the non-sequitur of a Hufflepuff answer, her skin was crawling. Patrick reminded her of her father, and not in a good way.

"Um. Hi. How, ahh, how d'you feel about owls?"

[in-doesntmatter.livejournal.com]

Turning around, I meet eyes with the blonde. Not particularly stunning, but she'd serve her purposes.

"Owls?" I asked, wondering if I heard correctly. "I'm ambivalent. I've never met an owl."

[carri3-whit3.livejournal.com]

Carrie frowned. "Vid-e-oh tapes. That's another one like that cell phone thaing, isn't it? Somethin' they invented after my time?"

She just hates being made to feel stupid, Carrie does.

[in-doesntmatter.livejournal.com]

Poor girl. I can't recall the last time I saw one as disembodied as this one. Not literally of course. I can very clearly recall the last physical disembodiment. I mean, sad. Displaced.

"Yes, darling. They are great inventions that allow you to record things and watch them over and over again. You can tape anything." I nod and flash her a smile, just so she can see what she'd never have.

[rated-ec10.livejournal.com]

Hm. There were a lot of things that Preston could have said, but he settled for giving Patrick a measuring look. "What makes you think that doing a thousand stomach crunches is in any way useful?"

[in-doesntmatter.livejournal.com]

Without turning, I roll my eyes at the voice behind me. I don't really want to deal with someone who obviously takes very little care of their body. With my back still to the man's voice I laugh in judgmental sympathy.

"You've obviously never had a six-pack before."

[x-dawnstar-x.livejournal.com]

Dawnstar's head came up, senses alert, the moment the man appeared in the room. She made her way over to him, a frown on her face.

"You were not here a moment ago."

It's a challenge, not a question.

[in-doesntmatter.livejournal.com]

I sense the woman's disappointment and it fuels me to smile a wide grin. Excited by her obvious dissatisfaction.

"You're quite brilliant aren't you?" I asked sarcastically with a wink. "What's with the costume?" I asked curiously.

[fiercefluffy.livejournal.com]

Octavian, who was not a telepath, could only read what Patrick Bateman had written on the application and what was betrayed or otherwise hinted by the way the man carried himself. He quirked an eyebrow. "Is the American Gardens Building very prestigious?"

It would seem so, if Bateman offered the address as an answer to the challenge Prove you are not useless.

[in-doesntmatter.livejournal.com]

The boy looks well-enough off. He's no Patrick Bateman, but he could undoubtedly pick up a few female correspondents if he so wished. I look at him and notice his curly hair and his rather strange lips. His narrow jaw-line. He was probably a faggot.

"Yes. Yes it is. Why?"

[swap-minds4fun.livejournal.com]

Mentok is a telepath. Well, he calls it mind-taking, but it's telepathy.

"Jeez, what got your tie in a knot?"

[in-doesntmatter.livejournal.com]

The man's painted green and he's dressed in the most horrible purple suit I've ever seen. I look at him with a polite, obligatory smile, and offer my hand.

"I'm Patrick Bateman. It's a windsor knot, it you were wondering...?" I offer, referencing the tie I'm wearing.

[ah-aha.livejournal.com]

((Another in a long line of telepathic characters. Also, if I overstep on what Tenel Ka can sense, please let me know.))

Being strong in the Force did not make one telepathic. Reading minds through the Force was a difficult skill, and invading the privacy of other's was not encouraged at Master Skywalker's academy. Sensing emotions, though, was as natural to the Jedi as breathing.

What Tenel Ka felt when she looked at the man was something off, a feeling that reminded her of the Nightsisters of Dathomir and their male kin. "You are sick," the one-armed Jedi told him, mincing no words.

[in-doesntmatter.livejournal.com]

And your naked body, no matter how fucking weird it looks, would be a flawless addition to my closet. Hanging in a see-through suit carrier interest you?. I Nod to the woman with a polite smile. The smile I always offer people. Who knows when I may need them and what I'll need them.

"Excuse me?"

[garland-briggs.livejournal.com]

Garland couldn't quite figure out what to make of this man. He looked every bit as fine as the next slightly well to do business man: well manicured, fit, probably intelligent. But something about him was odd. For now Garland shrugged it off, as there was no point in worrying about something one could do nothing about. All he could do was get to know him better and hope that jogged something loose.

"You sound like you take great care in keeping yourself looking fit. I suppose you have to with any high ranking business position."

[in-doesntmatter.livejournal.com]

"There's only one way to look good in a suit." I tell the friendly older man. I can't help but hope to age better. I offer my very polite hang in a greeting. A strong handshake. "'I'm Patrick Bateman."

[mello-n-choco.livejournal.com]

The pauses bothered me. They were too frequent. His answers, too normal. Or, maybe this place was making me more paranoid than I was. But, there was something off about him.

"So, why homosexuals? Why not women or blacks or Asians? People you don't have to talk to to know for sure if they are to be equated with 'psychopathic murders'? It would make your life ever so much simpler."

[in-doesntmatter.livejournal.com]

The voice behind me has a valid point and I spin around in my chair to greet them. I smiled and nod at the stranger.

"Yes, but you have to give women, blacks, and asians credit; they're doing something to change their situation. Granted, they were dealt a very shitty hand of cards in life, but they are striving for equality through progressive, realistic means. Homosexuals just gather in large groups for some sort of solidarity movements. Gathering with other shirtless gays and waving rainbows and pink triangles around won't give you equal rights."

[totallyluminous.livejournal.com]

((Mel can generally hear thoughts. If it's okay for her to hear Patrick's, say so, if not I'll just say magic's interfering with her, if that's okay?))

'You'll give us the videos so we can return them?' the angel asks, eyebrows raised slightly. 'That's...well, would your fines even be able to find you here?'

[in-doesntmatter.livejournal.com]

((Patrick keeps his thoughts deep, deep in his sub-conscience, somewhere so deep, no believes he is a murderer. It would be hard for people to hear his thoughts.))

"Exactly." I tell her with a confident, charming smile. She's probably the cutest one I've seen here. That means she's probably awful in bed. "They need returned. They aren't late."

[gamerspy.livejournal.com]

"Wow. Could you be any more concerned about your appearance?"

This coming from a guy with goggles, stripes, and leather gloves that come to mid-way down his forearm.

"What kind of videos?"

[in-doesntmatter.livejournal.com]

I turn to the strange looking thing, I can't tell if it's a boy and a girl because it appears to be Asian. I've always had a hard time with Asians.

"I could yes, but there is a healthy limit to everything and I'm a pro at not over-doing it. Thanks for being concerned though." I flash him a shiny smile.

"Videos. Some videos that need returning."

[effing-eff.livejournal.com]

Evan dashed past the sorting room, and then jerked to a halt. He looked inside, and then ran in. This was where it all began. Where he had been transported (no doubt by DAVID BLAINE, what the EFF) to Scotland, in a stupid castle, filled with demons and preppies who, like, want to teach him about vaginas. There was also a cheesecake dude in a loin cloth but any points Hogwarts could have got from that was offset but the inclusion of a dinosaur-retard baby.

"Oh my effing God, yes, someone who looks normal." Evan stopped to gasp for breath and continued. "Look, you, like, have to get me out of here. Book me a ticket, I'm gone. I have one hundred dollars in the past, so that's all yours, just do me a solid. This school is filled with time-traveling demons, and" He raised his voice to shout out to the hallway, "I am not signing a RELEASE!"

[in-doesntmatter.livejournal.com]

The man, the biggest homosexual I've ever seen in my entire life, was flamboyant and reeked of some sort of cheese or related synthetic. I decide to be polite because he looks like an easy target and I would prefer to have some fun.

"I'm normal, yes. What can I do for you?" I ask politely, refraining from any patronizing grins and eyebrow raises. He undoubtedly will try to take me home later in the evening. My jaw-line catches the light just right and my facial routine this morning went as planned.

[ugly-old-hat.livejournal.com]

"Hm," the Hat said, sizing up Patrick. "If faced with a buff blonde ninja samurai, would you make out with him, work out with him, fight him, or video tape him?"

[in-doesntmatter.livejournal.com]

I look at the hat and for a moment question if I did any hard partying last night that would lead me to see talking hats. Last night wasn't a coke night, nor did I go out. Hm. Strange place, indeed. Maybe it's one of those mechanical attractions meant to capture small children's attention.

"This is just a question and in no way am I going to judge you for it, but are you sexist? I'm just curious because you know, a 'buff, blonde, ninja samurai' could in fact be a woman but you've went with the personal objective pronoun 'him'. Just curious."

Slytherin!

[ugly-old-hat.livejournal.com]

Your bribe has been accepted!

Welcome to Slytherin!