Three… two… one…
Well, darnit.
Come on now…
I told you, you made it 
too tight.
(mumbles) I told you, 
you made it too tight…
What was that?
Nothing…
I don’t sound like that.
You heard that?
(screaming)
Ahh! Huzzah!
God dammit…
What?
What do you mean ‘what’?
Does that look like a kill shot 
to you?
For sure. I think we 
definitely hit an artery.
No! There’s supposed to be a 
geyser of blood. Where’s the… geyser?
Just because you can’t see it— 
It’s all going on internally.
Trust me. It’s… It’s pooling into 
the cavity.
I don’t know. I’m starting to 
think this machine isn’t working how it’s 
supposed to.
You’re right. This sucks.
Oh, come on. That’s not what I—
No, no, no, no, no! This was 
supposed to be something cool and fun and now it feels wrong.
Hey! Milton, you know what’s 
wrong?
Two loyal professors getting shit-canned one week before they’re scheduled to receive tenure.
That’s what’s wrong.
Think of all the teachers we’re saving by taking out this selfish prick. We’re doing it for the teachers.
Yeah!
Guess I’ll finish him off…
Ah! Bop, bop, bop! Whoa, whoa, 
whoa! No, no no!
That would make us murderers. And we’re not murderers, right?
No… No… No…
Remember, this way— Hey, whoa— It’s the ball’s fault.
You can’t put a ball on trial, 
can you?
What would it say?
“Your honor, I had a blast.”
Or “I had a ball.”
Set you up for that. But it’s 
fine.
That’s good!
Hey, we built a good machine.
We’ll get it right.
My favorite part is when it twirls.
Mine too, buddy. Mine too.
Hey! Will you look at that?  We got ourselves a kill.
You wanna set up the next one?
Hell yes.
Great song choice by the way.
Thanks. I lost my virginity to 
that song.
Really? I like to plow girls too.
Awesome!
You know, in the winter time they call me “The Snow Plow.”
What do they call you in the summer time?
...Paul.
It’s not as fun.
Yeah...
You have any nicknames?
They call me “Chef Boyar-weeee!”
You’re humping a dead guy.
He likes it.
Okie dokie…
Alllmoooost… There!
Yeah...
Well, here we are Margaret.
A moment we both knew was coming 
sooner or later.
I just want you to say it for me. 
Just say it one time.
Let my ears soak it in like an ocean wave.
On March 15th of last year, I, 
Margaret Stoolman…
ate Paul Dilkman’s sack lunch.
Say it Margaret.
I know you did it.
Saw the bread crumbs near your 
waste basket in 4th period. Oops!
Threw half the god damn sandwich 
in the trash.
You’re so wasteful!
And every night since that day I’ve just imagined you…
with those thick fucking sausage 
fingers manhandling that
delicious mound of ham, turkey, 
and gouda on ciabatta bread…
And… I can’t sleep a wink!
You’re so tiny. You knew you 
weren’t gonna finish all of it.
Please. Just say it for me. 
One time. Let me have my peace.
Admit your mistake Margaret.
Let God heal you!
Settle down buddy. Thank you.
What’s that? I can’t 
hear you.
Let me help you.
Who’s Margaret?
You know too much.
What’d she say?
Oh she totally confessed.
Oh, I knew it!
Remind me to wear my glasses 
when we kidnap the next person.
Doesn’t look good with the 
ski mask.
Okay. Here… we…
Does Margaret seem smaller?
GO!
