A while ago, a great writer called LongSnakeMoan published an excellent crime story called 'All the People That Won't Be Missed,' which paired Jane and Todd Ianuzzi (from Beavis & Butt-head) in the style of Natural Born Killers. Three chapters of it have been published here, and it can be seen in its entirety on the PaperPusher's Message Board. You can find it in a search or PM me for the link. But the long and short of it is, Todd and Jane rampage across the country killing people at leisure, some canon characters and some not.
After the bloody and controversial ending, LSN set up a 'Todd & Jane Takedown' thread where readers unsatisfied with that finish could write their own stories as a form of revenge on the two killers, and she received many responses. I wrote four of the best stories I've ever penned for this thread, and obviously there are some spoilers for the original story. If you don't mind that and you just want to see me let loose...Todd and Jane killed a shitload of people-including my favorite character-and got away with it, and that pissed me off. These four stories are the result. ;)
I Can't Leave Yet
Jane Ianuzzi sometimes wondered what went through their minds just before they died. She didn't care-she just wondered.
Like Tom, for instance. Had he thought of her? Of Daria? Of how the whole screwed-up triangle between them might have led to this? It hadn't-not that Jane could quite remember, her old life was rather dim by now. But if the patronizing son of a bitch had thought that, so much the better. Maybe it added to his suffering. And what about Daria? No, it happened too quick for her. She didn't have time to think. The bullets answered all her questions before her mind could ask them. Daria's little sister, though...she'd had time, right?
Jane clapped her hands over her mouth and shook with a fit of giggles, her feet twitching as she sat on the motel bed. What HAD gone through Quinn's mind in those last few moments? What kind of regrets did SHE have? All the sales she would never shop at? All the guys she would never prick-tease? Does blood red go with this top? Jane laughed harder. Her eyes rolled in her head. Ohhhhh, don't mind me, she thought to no one, I'm just a little, bit, messed, up. The itch is getting to me. Haven't killed someone in a while, need to do it, that's all it is so don't mind me. Unless I mind you.
She tried to distract herself with art. After all, she and Todd were taking it easy now with the baby coming...but the only color she wanted to paint was red; the only canvas, human flesh. That sounded kind of cool. Like something Daria might've written in one of her crappy spy stories. Painting and drawing failed to excite her these days, with so many interesting alternatives...
But the need to entertain herself remained, oh yes indeed. She carefully pushed herself up from the bed and rummaged through her and Todd's suitcases. It had to be here somewhere. She didn't have anything else like it...ahh, there!
Jane tenderly lifted out the long red wig, the white winter coat with the furry collar.
"Get 'em while they last, fresh from Quinn's closet to your room," she said in a tone very like the one she once used with Daria. "Warning, unauthorized use may cause brain damage and narcissism."
She slid the jacket on and wondered if she looked as good as Todd said. It wasn't hard; there were mirrors everywhere in this room. Mirror on the bathroom door, mirror on the wall, mirror on the dresser and of course a mirror on the ceiling. She and Todd had already tried that one out. It was a little dusty, but what it reflected had been very special indeed.
With the garish coat and the wig, she really did look like Quinn. Sorry, kiddo. I know you were real attached to your clothes. Never mind, I'm not sorry. You showed some signs of intelligent life, but too little, too late. You wasted 16 years on this and left nothing behind.
Their lives no longer mattered-Jane understood that now. She could slash the throats of over a hundred people with pieces of her broken self and nobody could catch them, nobody could punish them, they were f*cking Todd and Jane Ianuzzi, and she couldn't wait for Todd to get home tonight. Damn, he'd said to her, even with Todd Junior you just can't get enough Ianuzzi in you. He was right. And the jacket did look good on her.
"Damn I look good," she said idly. "I look good. Good as I should. I look so good I'll give Todd wood."
She giggled and strolled over to the bed to check her cell phone. Wouldn't hurt to text him and see when he might be getting of course it looks good back.
Jane blinked. Her head felt funny for a second there. Nothing unusual about that, though. A shrink would have a field day with her head, if he heard the words that she just said...where did that thought come from? A shrink? She'd wouldn't let one of those pinheads live through the appointment.
She texted Todd and hovered over the phone waiting for his answer. Suddenly she needed him to hold her, kiss her, tell her she did the right thing and that when you killed people they were gone and you never had to worry about them again. She needed to put some new makeup on that SO doesn't work breathe. That's what she needed to do. She shouldn't risk being seen outside though, even in the disguise, but she had to get out of not this room without the for a right minute jeans
"GET A GRIP!" Jane shouted at her reflection on the wall. She stared for a long time until her breathing slowed down.
The phone buzzed from the bed. She pounced on it. Back soon Aphrodite, got something special for you, it said. Jane sighed in relief. She knew what he meant by that-the same thing he always did. But she wished it would be the Facebook founder's head on a platter. That online crap got so tiresome after a while. It was funny at first, but it only encouraged the outside world's obsession with them, and...
"Screw them. I don't want their attention now," she muttered to the mirror above the dresser.
"Really? I always want attention," she watched herself say.
Jane let out a gasp of terror and fury. She darted over, grabbed the mirror and smashed it to bits on the side of the dresser. Okay, calm down. That was nothing. Just a weird phase. Maybe she wasn't getting enough sleep. Or maybe all the guilt you were supposed to feel but didn't, maybe it didn't leave you, it just changed into something she could feel, like...hallucinations. These people were gone. Quinn was gone. She CAN'T LEAVE YET
Jane started to tremble slightly. She stared at the wall mirror, then the ceiling. Quinns everywhere. She had to get out. She had to get this revolting jacket and this goddamn wig off. She reached up to tear away the fake hair.
"Don't be scared, Jane. It's not so bad to be me."
Oh God Jesus, I didn't even open my mouth that time...
She couldn't look at the mirror. She had to look at the mirror.
"Let me show you..."
"Holy sh*t, the traffic," Todd muttered as he wrenched the door open. "We didn't kill enough people baby, let me tell you. I'm getting the itch pretty bad, what about-"
He was nearly knocked over as she ran to embrace him. "Oh, Todd," Jane gasped. "Oh God, I thought I was going crazy."
"Easy Jane, easy! What the hell's wrong with you?"
"First I had these really weird thoughts and then the mirror started talking to me, and...it was scary, all right? I think I need to switch medications."
"Jane, you're not one of those retards. You don't take meds."
"Then maybe I need to start," Jane laughed breathlessly. "Sorry, I'm talking crazy. I just...missed you." Her fingers trailed up and down his back. "I mean, I really missed you."
Todd grinned. "Now that I can fix."
They found the bed without looking. It was second nature to them now. So were other things. He didn't even blink when she brought out the ropes. Usually that was his thing, but he didn't mind if she changed things up. He looked up at the mirror and watched her tie his wrists and ankles to the bedposts, wondering if she'd ever moved quite that gracefully before.
They kissed a final time, and she crouched over him. Something happened then. A strange, lost look passed over his wife's face, as though she were seeing a ghost. "No," she whimpered. "Oh, NO."
She reached into the coat with shaking hands and brought out a carving knife. Todd blinked. Okay, maybe that was a little too kinky. "Babe, what are you..."
"PLEASE, Quinn," Jane sobbed in a heart-wrenching voice. "Don't make me do it..." But her arms came down.
The knife barely made a sound, but Todd did. He roared in pain, instinctively twisting his body away from her and that only made it worse.
"That was one, Todd," said a light, ditzy voice from the ceiling. Nails on a chalkboard-the pink girl. He stared up. It was her, it was Jane, but it WASN'T. "Just a hundred and twenty-four left to go! Yeah, none of them were as cute as me. But...you know."
"NO!" Jane shrieked. The knife came down again. Then again.
"Two...three...four-ooo, that was juicy. Five..." The mirror sang playfully. Todd choked on red. His whole world was piercing agony, and the world was about to get larger. Funny, his uncle once told him it was a tiny speck of sh*t in a big old toilet bowl. And nobody cared what happened to sh*t.
The knife came again, and did not stop coming. It moved to his waist, then lower. He heard Jane say she loved him, before his senses no longer had room for hearing. Bitches. He always knew they'd be the death of him.
Eventually, Quinn finished counting. Jane's arms burned, the muscles torn, her hands stiff as stone around the blade. "Oh, Todd...I'm so, so sorry." she whispered to the mass of pink and red and dark fabric beneath her.
"That's really sweet, Jane," Quinn said from the wall. Jane watched, numb with fear as she stepped out onto the carpet. "I'm gonna let you have your body back for a sec, 'cause it's way more fun like that." Not that it mattered. Jane was so weak and sore from the forced murder that she could barely move. "Let's call it one last favor. You were right, you know. There are more sales. More boys. I can't leave yet."
She walked up and gently took hold of Jane's ankles.
"Mirrors are so great, aren't they? You can see everything. Everyone. But it gets annoying. All the people trying on terrible clothes right in front of you, putting on the wrong makeup for the wrong guys...and you can't stop them. So yeah, I think I'm coming back now. I won't use your life, of course. Cause you're like totally disgusting and you belong in hell. But I'll take your sweet little baby's. I'm sure she won't mind."
Jane lashed out in a frenzy of terror, pulling at the sheets and the covers as Quinn began to pull her off the bed. She even caught hold of one of Todd's dead feet, but the boot was so wet with blood that she lost her grip.
"Why don't they know?" Quinn sang under her breath in a still, eerie voice. "It's easy to see...that I can't leave 'till I'm dressed perfectly."
The artist of murder cried and screamed. She fell from the bed and was dragged across the floor.
"Coming in second wouldn't be the worst...as long as no one else was first."
They were close to the wall now. Jane begged for her child. She received as much mercy as her victims.
"Don't they know I can't leave yet?"
Jane's final scream cut off as she was pulled straight into the mirror.
Long minutes later, Quinn stepped out alone, humming and fluffing her hair. It was done. She felt alive again.
In fact, she felt a whole lot younger.