Blood. Sometimes it sets my teeth on edge,
other times it helps me control the chaos.
Last season on Dexter...
Tonight's the night and it's going to happen again... and again.
Open your eyes and look at what you did!
Please, you have to understand.
Trust me, I definitely understand.
Children - I could never do that, not like you.
- Why? - I have standards.
- You'd better be a cop. - No. Forensics.
- They found another hooker. - Another?
The third in five months.
There's no blood near the body at all.
It's the weirdest thing you ever saw.
I've never seen such clean, dry, neat-looking dead flesh.
How does he get rid of the blood?
I think this is a friendly message,
Kind of like, "Hey, want to play?"
And, yes, I want to play. I really, really do.
What's this sick son of a bitch telling us?
Not us. Me.
Interesting hand job.
- Think this is our guy's work? - The Ice-Truck Killer?
This feels familiar.
When he broke into my apartment,
he took some time to get to know me, my life, my secrets.
He knows. He's not corrupting the happy, Hallmark images of my youth.
He's revealing the ugly truth behind them.
Son, there are people out there who do really bad things.
Of course, you have to learn to spot them. But I can teach you.
The code of Harry, my foster father, is satisfied.
- So how the hell was your date with Rita? - Great.
She's perfect because Rita is,
in her own way, as damaged as me.
- I want... - A normal life.
Yeah, a normal life.
The killer is an artist.
You give me the fucking creeps, you know that?
Yeah, I know. Sorry about that.
Why, in a building full of cops,
is Doakes the only one who gets the creeps from me?
I want you and Rita to meet my boyfriend.
Dex, Rudy's different.
I feel safe with him. I think I'm falling for him.
Dexter.
I've waited a long time to meet you.
Dad's coming home?
If their dad shows up, we'll deal with it together.
Paul Bennett, father on parole.
Are you fucking my wife?
My heart beats for those two kids,
so if you or that skinny bitch try to screw with what's mine,
I swear to God, I don't care who I have to hurt.
Let's face it, Paul, you've been a problem.
It's time for you to go away.
He smacked me over the head and dragged me out of the house,
probably through the back yard.
All I want is for you to look for a shoe. It's missing.
I'm telling you, Dexter is not who you think he is.
Do I have the pleasure of your company this weekend?
We've had a major break in the Ice-Truck Killer case.
Debra Morgan...
will you marry me?
Yes. Yes.
Where's my sister?
Took her code 12. Left about an hour ago.
How did you not know who I was?
I think a real cop would... at least have a sense
that she was in the presence of the person that she was hunting.
Where the fuck are you? I'm here at work.
I need to talk to you. Do not see Rudy until you find me.
You're connected to this.
I don't know how, but I'll find out, and some of what I find's gonna stick to your ass.
I was hoping you could dig up an old case file for me.
Sure thing.
It's the crime scene where Harry found me.
This is what he wanted me to find all along.
He's showing me where to go.
Laura Moser and three others found chopped up with a chainsaw.
What is in that report that Harry didn't want me to see?
What he saw in that cargo container changed him.
You were left there for days, starving,
In blood two inches thick.
You remember now?
- I have a brother. - A real brother.
I didn't even know you existed.
Imagine how I felt when I tracked you down
and found out you were exactly like me.
You can't be a killer and a hero.
It doesn't work that way!
Why me, Dex? Why'd he choose me?
Just lucky, I guess.
I was so scared. I was so scared.
Am I one of your victims now?
You're not a trophy.
But you need to be put down.
Sorry.
I drove away a brother who accepts me
for a foster father who betrayed me.
I'm not alone, and Harry kept it from me.
Doakes always sensed I was hiding something.
Now he knows. My devil danced with his demon
and the fiddler's tune is far from over.
Tonight's the night...
.. and it's going to happen again and again.
Has to happen.
It's not what I want, but what I want doesn't matter.
This is the only way I know how to survive.
I'm coiled and ready to strike...
although a spare will do.
Nice. Nice. Nice warm-up, bro.
Now, you can get that. Remember, loose-arm swing.
Loose. Got it.
And keep your mind limber.
- I'm doing mental jumping jacks. - Don't forget.
Okey dokey.
I'm on edge.
38 days, 16 hours, and 12 minutes have passed
since I killed my brother.
In that entire time, I haven't had a single night to myself.
Sergeant Doakes makes sure of that. He follows me everywhere now,
a human bloodhound, incited by the scent of darkness.
My best hope of losing him is to act relentlessly normal, dull.
So I bowl.
What's really disturbing is that I'm good at it.
Balls, Dex.
You pictured it, didn't you?
Hey, striker, we need you to lock down tonight, huh?
We're playing the Alley Cats.
I'm a little tense, Angel.
But I'll try my best not to let the team down.
Try? Try?
You got to think positive, bro,
'cause what we think creates the world around us.
It's all about energy and interconnectedness.
I mean, we got to think positive...
Angel lost someone, too, when his wife left him.
Now he's going toward the light, searching for answers.
He found one on an Oprah rerun.
I wish it were that easy for me.
And we just got to direct it to manifest what we want.
OK?
All right.
Dude, dude, just bowl a strike
so we can go have some fun at the strip clubs.
I want to see a real 7-10 split.
I wish I could have fun.
With Doakes tailing me, my life's been all Jekyll and no Hyde -
no moonlit play dates,
no late-night social calls, not one.
My brother would be so disappointed.
Don't forget, tell the universe what you need.
I really need
to kill somebody.
Did you even take my advice?
I'm telling you, the universe can be very generous.
It certainly can.
For weeks I've known who was next, who belonged to me.
I just needed Doakes to take a night off.
What do you need?
I need to curse someone.
What kind of curse?
Death curse.
We don't do that kind of thing here.
You can go down to Little Haiti,
find all the hoodoo voodoo you need there.
You are Jimmy Sensio, high priest, right?
The man with God in his mouth?
I'm not a tourist.
I need a Petro curse, and I heard you were the best.
Thank you for your offering.
Come.
A blind man - not very sporting, I know,
but I'm not one to discriminate based on race, gender, or disability.
What... is... happening?
The only pertinent question is what happened to your victims?
What are you doing? What do you want?
I can see this might be confusing, Jimmy, but my favorite part's kind of ruined here.
See, this is where I'd normally show you the innocent people you've killed.
I brought them along anyway, as part of my death ritual.
Since you're blind, I'll just remind you.
Emmanuel Alzua,
Jean Philippe Peguero,
Nono Baptiste.
I didn't kill them.
I cursed them.
And in a remarkable coincidence,
they each died of respiratory failure
with fluid in their lungs.
I guess murder is one way to make your curses come true.
It's good for business.
What... what was that?
Just the next part of the ritual.
How did you administer the ricin poison to your victims?
I am the one with the power in his hands.
That's not entirely accurate.
Those who believe in me shall be free.
Alabanza, Alaban...
Knock it off.
How'd you poison them?
Not me.
Madoli, my Petro spirit,
told me put the powder
In the aguardiente bottles that they buy from me.
And I did it.
Thank you, Jimmy.
My ritual's almost complete.
Madoli curses you! You...
I'm afraid Madoli's a little late to the party on that one.
I appreciate you helping me out tonight, Jimmy.
I've been waiting a long time for this.
I really needed it.
What the fuck?
Let that be a lesson to you.
I've always enjoyed my work.
It brings order to the chaos, fills me with civic pride.
But what was that back there?
Not voodoo.
When I picked up the knife, it's like I didn't know who I was.
I come here to dump bodies, not beer bottles.
Now I'm just a litterbug.
Deb!
Jesus!
What are you doing working out in the middle of the night?
I couldn't sleep.
Tomorrow's your big day.
Where the fuck were you? I was worried about you.
Bowling.
Kind of late for bowling.
Kind of not looking for your opinion.
You said you cleaned the place today?
I did. It got messed up again.
I don't suppose you were looking at apartment ads on the treadmill?
- Look, if you want me out of here, just... - I don't.
I just had a bad...
bowling night.
I meant, when you're ready to be on your own,
I'll help you with the transition, that's all.
Thanks, Dex.
Thanks for putting up with me.
You're all I got.
That's not such a great bargain for you, huh?
I'm not complaining.
Night.
It's your turn on the couch.
Could you at least pick up your...
Debra can't sleep in an empty house any more.
In fact, she can't sleep much at all.
I guess that's what happens when your fiancé tries to slice you up
into small, bloodless pieces.
Pathetic.
- Did you see that? - Nice shooting, Dex. We need to talk.
Those boars don't stand a chance. Hope one charges me.
- No, you don't. - Got massive stopping power...
Dexter, slow down. I got bad news.
They need me to take a shift at work.
Right now? What about the boar hunt?
We'll plan another trip.
I waited two weeks for this trip.
- You can wait another one. - No, I can't.
If you read the books, you'd know psychopaths like me
- have a low tolerance for frustration. - Enough with the psychopath bullshit.
You're in control of your urges.
You don't understand, Dad. I need this.
It's not just a sport to me.
I'm sorry, son. I have responsibilities at work.
Now, come on.
- I'll drop you off at home. Give me the gun. - No!
There's cheese in that doughnut.
Oh, that's a Danish.
Look, they forgot the frosting on this one.
Well, some people like doughnuts plain, no frosting.
I can't even get doughnuts right. What's going on here?
Sorry, guys, I was in a hurry. I just ordered a dozen.
Pastry buffs like you two deserve better than this.
Thanks, Dexter.
We're gonna go visit my dad in jail today.
Want to come?
Afraid I got to work, buddy.
OK.
Thanks for getting here so fast.
What's the emergency?
Hip Hop Harry is on.
We're good for 15 minutes.
I know we're supposed to have dinner tonight,
but I just had this urge.
I'm all for satisfying urges.
I just wish I knew why I couldn't satisfy mine last night.
Is everything OK?
- Yeah, it will be. Just keep going. - OK.
Any minute now...
Sorry.
No. No, it's my fault.
I shouldn't be springing this on you.
No, it's... not that.
I'm just feeling a...
a little pressure at work.
I'll be OK.
I followed the code.
The stalk was good.
I'm just a little rusty since killing my brother.
Or maybe I took pity on my victim.
I mean, sure, he's a heinous killer, but he also bumps into walls.
Hey, Sergeant.
Thanks for supporting the bowling team.
Fuck you.
Where's my blood report on the Maynard victim?
So, what's that, a titty site?
Oops, caught me.
Bullshit. What the hell were you really doing in here?
The tits are right there.
Yeah, but in ten years,
you've never rented a single porn title.
Huh. How would you know?
Call me an office crazy,
but your humbling interest in my personal life
could be misinterpreted as harassment in some circles.
So report me.
I could think of easier solutions.
Nice tits.
James, you got any misdemeanor A forms?
Try the filing cabinet.
Can anybody tell me where the goddamn misdemeanor A forms are kept?
I've got some right here, Lieutenant.
OK, all right, move along. Nothing to see here.
Just another fucking day at work.
Welcome back... Morgan.
Thanks.
Maria.
A tour-boat guide called in a body at the breakwater.
I want you to take Doakes and a support team
and take Morgan.
I want to get her back out in the field today.
She's not ready. She shouldn't even be here.
What's it been? Five weeks, six?
I appreciate your concern but according to her psych evaluation,
she's ready to get back out into the field.
You just got to look her in the eyes to know she's not right.
You put her out in the field, she could melt down, freak out.
She hugged me.
All right, you partner with her today so you can keep an eye on her.
- That's... - Not a request.
Put Doakes with Batista.
Fine.
Maria...
I know it's difficult for you to take orders
when you feel that you should be giving them,
and I really appreciate your professionalism.
Thanks. Thank you.
You don't like roses?
Allergies.
And let me know what you find out about that body.
OK, guys, listen up.
Heard your sister's back on the job already.
Is she in any kind of shape?
Oh, you know Deb. Nothing gets her down.
No, I mean, did she pack on any pounds?
'Cause, you know, last time I saw her, she was tight.
We got multiple chop wounds, pretty much head to toe.
All right, you call it - heads or tails.
- Heads. - Hey, I didn't flip yet.
You said call it.
Damn. I always get the ass end.
There you go, Sergeant.
Never mind.
I got sharp-force trauma here,
heavy-impact, parallel wounds.
Maybe an axe.
No, the defense wounds on the forearms are long and linear,
and I can make out beveled margins.
A machete did this.
The machete is the weapon of choice of the 29th Street Kings.
The victim was in the gang, judging from that tattoo.
We think the body was carried from a nearby location.
I found a real good blood trail coming down from the road.
Damn it.
Lens.
Let's make sure we check the dock slips for criminal records.
It's possible this victim was killed by one of these boat owners out here.
Or maybe it was just an easy access spot to dump a corpse at night.
There are no light poles.
The freeway exit ramp's just a block away.
He's got a point.
Yo, Dex.
You're supposed to preserve the crime scene, asshole.
What's the matter with you today?
I'm just a little off my game. I'll get it back.
- What time did you find the body? - Seven o'clock.
I start prepping the banana boat every morning at seven
for our Miami Banana tour.
- Banana tour? - Yeah, yeah.
It's a calypso journey through Miami's inner harbor,
- and you should try it. - I'll think about it.
Hey, isn't that the Ice-Truck Killer's babe?
She was in the paper. She's fucking hot.
Did you see anyone else this morning?
No, not this morning.
Are you sure?
Yeah. I'd have given them a brochure.
Yo, Mrs. Ice-Truck Killer!
OK. Hang on. Hang on.
Just turn around. Look scared for the camera.
If you think of anything else, you have our numbers.
And you have mine. Can I pass these out now?
- Knock yourself out. - Thank you.
Come on. Just look over here.
Look scared for the camera.
Morgan...
Thank you.
What? Do you need help with something?
Rafael!
- Where is Rafael? - Shit. Sergeant!
Don't just stand there! Grab her! What are you doing?
- Somebody stop her! Miss! - Rafael!
- Miss, you cannot go down there. - Hey! Hey!
Batista, stop her!
God damn it, Morgan, grab her!
Can we please secure this motherfucking crime scene?
What did she say?
That's her son.
She says she knows who killed him -
some guy named Little Chino.
- It felt like she was asking me something. - She was.
She wants you to find Little Chino and kill him like a dog.
That look.
I know that look.
Like her mother, she wants someone to do something.
The next stop on Matchy the Matchbook's magical journey
down the rainbow path is...
the dreaded chocolate swamp.
Why is it dreaded?
I love chocolate.
Because... the chocolate swamp
is the home of a goopy, gooey nightmare named Gloppy,
who turns children into Fudgesicles and eats them!
What does Matchy do?
Well, luckily, Gloppy was sleeping,
so Matchy goes straight to Candy Castle,
where he becomes King Candy,
who can turn everyone into sweets
with a wave of his royal gumball staff.
Cool story, Dad.
But next time, can we play the actual game?
First chance I get, I'll talk to the warden
about finding some of those missing game pieces, OK?
OK. Got to go, kids.
All right, say goodbye to your father.
Jump! Jump!
Hugs!
What's wrong with your lip?
Well, I was biting it cause I was excited to see you.
So come back real soon, OK? OK, buddy. Bye.
Rita, one minute?
All right. Go wait by the door.
I need your help. My lawyer is gonna file my appeal tomorrow,
but I don't stand a chance without that shoe.
There's no shoe. How many times do I have to tell you that?
OK... Anything, any evidence
to support the fact that I was set up.
You mean that Dexter set you up.
Somebody set me up.
Rita, I'm not doing real good in here, OK?
It's a federal prison, hardcore.
I don't belong here.
Will you help me?
I need to go. I'll see you in a couple of weeks.
Angel, will you please take Eva's statement
and set up her daughter, Marissa, with some crayons, OK?
Sure thing.
That girl's gonna need more than crayons
to make her world right.
Killing Little Chino could restore my world, too,
but only if he satisfies Harry's code.
I see you've been benched.
LaGuerta's just jealous the Ice-Truck Killer fucked me instead of her.
Wow.
You're chipper.
Just happy to be back on the job.
What do you want?
Just working up my blood report from the crime scene,
wanted to know what you found on the suspect, Little Chino.
Cocksucker's guilty as they come.
He's an enforcer for the 29th Street Kings,
East Side gang, intensely violent.
He's been linked to nine murders in the last five years.
So far, so good.
I just hope he's not blind.
Has he ever been tried?
Twice, but the witnesses in each case were murdered,
We think by Chino himself.
Now people are just too afraid to come forward.
Come on, Chino, right this way.
Fucking beef bus.
Dad!
I'm OK, Dex. I've told you...
never put your finger on the trigger unless you're shooting.
- Are you OK? - Jesus. That was close.
My heart's beating out of my chest.
Let me feel.
- Feel what? - Your heart.
That's amazing.
A challenge, a mountain to climb.
I need this one.
Little Chino came to mi front door.
He asked for mi son, Rafael.
Rafael did not want to go with Little Chino,
but he was afraid not to.
- What was he going to do? - My brother has a house in Georgia.
Rafael was going to live with him.
That's why they kill him.
I know it.
Nobody ever leaves the gang.
Eva. Eva.
Eva.
Are you willing to testify
that Little Chino picked up your son on the night of his death?
Come on. Don't back down now.
I want him to pay.
Got him.
Well, that's discouraging. With a grieving mother as a witness,
Little Chino will never reach my cutting courtroom.
Hey, Morgan, you want to see something swell?
Come a little closer.
And the token has spoken. Good to see you, too, Vince.
I heard we captured Bigfoot.
Behold the eighth wonder of the world.
Am I speaking clearly?
- Yeah. - Then answer my fucking question, Chino.
What time did you pick up Rafael last night?
Last night? I didn't see Rafael last night.
OK, so why would Rafael's mother make up that story, Chino?
That puta's into the devil's candy, man - fucking heroin. Shit.
She was probably high.
You're telling me that Eva Arenas is a junkie?
Man, if that's true, Pascal and LaGuerta are gonna have a piss party.
Eva Arenas, two pops for drug possession.
No fucking way the DA puts a drug user on the stand.
That cholo's gonna walk again.
But not very far.
We'll both be vindicated soon.
OK, boys, today's our day.
Let's find that galleon and bring back the gold.
Here's that aberration in the sea floor.
The crevice is at 65 feet.
It has to be where the Santa Rosa went down.
The crevice is 30 to 40 yards straight ahead.
The crevice should be 25 yards ahead, bearing 1-4-4.
I need your help.
I know you were looking forward to going out
but I think Deb could use you more.
Now, Dexter, this isn't about this morning, is it?
No, no, I swear. This is for Deb.
She had her first day at work today and LaGuerta was kind of rough on her.
Dexter, unlock the door.
Hold on. Hold on!
Dexter, come on!
Open the fucking door!
See, she's yelling at me now.
Look, I'm no expert,
but I think Deb could use some girl time tonight.
Well, I won't lie.
I'm a little disappointed,
but I know your heart's in the right place.
Absolutely.
OK. Whatever you need, Dexter.
Thank you, Rita. I will make this up to you.
I'm gonna have Deb pick you up in a half-hour, OK? Bye.
Sorry.
I double-booked when I made plans to go out with Rita tonight.
I forgot that I had promised to sub for another bowling team.
Why do you look so happy about it?
I like bowling. What can I say? Look, will you take Rita out for me?
She hired a baby-sitter and everything.
No way. I need to work out.
Actually, you need to stop working out. It's getting unhealthy.
Why not go out for some hard liquor instead?
- Sorry, bro. - Deb, please!
When do I ever ask you for anything?
You bunghole. Why'd you have to put it that way?
She's expecting you in a half an hour. You're a life saver.
Tonight's the night.
Really.
Harry would prefer I take more time but my life is falling apart.
Whatever stopped my knife before won't stop it again.
Hey, there!
Gonna work on my release tonight -
practice, practice, practice.
Lane's open till midnight. You want to join me?
Fuck it.
There is nothing else to talk about.
You are a liar, and you lied!
Would you stop
- trying to act all hard like that? - Shit.
You want me to act better, then you treat me better.
You got these things all mixed up in your head.
Listen to me. I love you, Boo.
It's all about you. There is nobody else!
Is that why you bought me three dozen fucking roses?
Get out of my sight.
I send you flowers, babe,
- because I love you. - Get out of my sight.
I got nothing else to say to you until you decide to man up.
Please, go.
Maria?
Fuck.
I'm sorry you had to hear that.
That was my fiancé.
We are having some problems.
Well, that happens.
I called his house three nights in a row and he says he's working.
He didn't return my phone calls.
And then he comes home, and he says he's tired.
Well, he's tired because he's out there fucking some bitch.
I can smell it on him.
Don't worry about washing their hair.
- And read to them before bed. - OK, got it.
Hello?
You have a collect call from Paul Bennett. Will you accept the charges?
Yes, I'll accept the charges.
Excuse me.
Rita, do you have a second? I need to talk to you.
What do you want?
I'm not gonna make it in here.
I don't have time for your bullshit right now.
It's not bullshit.
I'm not like these guys. I don't belong here, Rita.
Can you help me?
Help you? What?
Just, can you look for the shoe one more time?
I found the fucking shoe, OK?
You... you what?
Oh, that's great! I'll call the lawyer in the morning!
Look, what does it matter? It's just a shoe.
It doesn't mean anything.
You were probably high on smack when you lost it at my house.
Whatever. I'll let the courts fucking decide that.
- This is good news. - No! No, Paul, no.
If you send a lawyer to my house, the shoe won't be here.
I'm not gonna let you drag Dexter into this.
I'm in a healthy relationship, finally,
and I'm not gonna throw it away to bail out my abusive ex-husband.
It doesn't work that way.
I got to go.
No, you don't. No, don't... Rita, don't hang up that fucking phone.
Stop blaming other people for your problems.
- You're in prison now, Paul. Deal with it. - Rita!
No! No! No! No!
Some gangs earn teardrops of blood by killing.
I understand. We all need our keepsakes.
One man's tattoos are another man's blood slides.
All I had to do was call the gang task force,
ask where the 29th Street Kings get their tattoos,
and wait for my prey to show up.
What the fuck?
What the fuck? Get the fuck off me!
Fuck! Get the fuck off!
Fuck that shit!
The scene of the failed crime -
no better place to try again.
I have it on good authority the owner fled town.
Plus, it's a much quieter working environment now without the chickens.
So...
You and Dexter come here a lot?
We love the hot wings.
Look, I'm sorry if I'm such bad company tonight.
Paul called right before we left.
Yeah? What did he want?
Well, who knows?
Make me feel bad he's in prison, I suppose.
Hey, I'm the one that answered
that domestic-dispute call way back when, remember?
That prick deserves to be in prison.
I know. I know.
I know. I just...
I can't believe I still let him get to me
after everything he's put me through.
Oh, God, I'm such an idiot.
What you went through is so much worse than my problems.
What?
My psycho killer fiancé?
Please. I've had worse.
At least he paid for my meals.
I can't believe you moved on like that.
I wish I could be more like you.
Paul was so horrible to me...
Really horrible.
Sometimes... Don't tell Dexter,
but... sometimes...
I find myself missing the good parts of him.
Oh, God.
Not him.
Not him, it's not him that you miss.
'Cause what he had to offer wasn't real.
But the way he made you feel about yourself...
that was real.
Hey, are you OK?
Need a refill?
Can I get another draught, please?
Hey, excuse me.
Don't I know you from somewhere?
Haven't I seen you on television?
Oh... yeah.
Hey, excuse me, are you that girl...
What the fuck are you doing?
- Debra, what happened? - He grabbed me! You saw it, right?
- He grabbed me. - I think you broke my fucking nose.
- You fucking grabbed me! - All I did was touch you.
You saw it. He grabbed me.
He wasn't easy to get here,
but here he is, and here I am -
ready, willing...
Able?
Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit.
Shit.
Not enough tape. Perfect.
39 days, 22 hours, and 18 minutes
since I killed my brother.
I am cursed.
Hey! What the hell do you think you're doing?
- What were you doing? - I don't know.
- What were you thinking? - I don't know.
Whatever you're going through, killing yourself isn't the answer.
You don't get points for dying.
Dying?
Dad, I... I don't want to die.
I'm just trying to figure out some way to feel alive.
I don't normally seek human contact in times of failure,
but then I don't normally experience failure.
Right now all I can think about is the smell of Rita's kitchen,
the breathy cadence of her sleeping children,
the warmth of her flesh.
Rita?
What's wrong?
The prison called.
Paul's dead.
He died in an inmate altercation.
It was a fight.
He was angry, and he got into a fight.
Now I have to figure out how to tell my children their father's dead.
And I could have helped him.
How?
Rita, how could you have helped him? He was in prison.
That's right, Dexter. It happened in prison.
Paul was in prison.
That was his own fault.
Was it?
You all right? Rita said you got in a brawl.
You've got to see this.
Mount Pleasant and 81...
They've been playing it on the news all night.
Two treasure hunters made a ghastly discovery today
when they stumbled on what appears to be an underwater graveyard
in a crevice off the coast of Miami.
There's bodies in those bags.
The butchered bodies were submerged inside these heavy-duty garbage bags.
Authorities have located at least 30 bags so far,
but around-the-clock salvage efforts are still under way.
Did you hear that? 30 bags.
Do you know what that means?
There might be a new mass murderer out there,
way worse than the Ice-Truck Killer.
Maybe I can finally get some peace.
Isn't that great?