"S'up?"(aka 60 Seconds To What?) Giallo idea: Your heart is an iron strongbox, and only I have the key.

 

"Your heart, my dear one, is in an iron strongbox.

Only I have the key."

Let me get my kayfabe on.

"Yo, let me speak on dis."

The Two Seven station house.  Strong on the street.  Feet in the situation.  "We care about these people.  Most of us are from the neighborhood, ourselves."  But there is a horror author doing a midtown signing, kind of a weird f*cker, stuck for a meet n greet, with people too starstruck to realize how much of a letdown it really is meeting the little jerkwater.

"If this were one of my novels, it would be simple to explain.  Either someone we expect to see any minute is actually dead, or someone we've thought dead a long time is actually live and working behind the scenes."

Remember the class president behind the counter at Walmart?  (sorry, I couldn't resist mentioning that again.)

Or the author himself is the killer, making it look like a copy cat is taking stuff from his books.  Only the author would be the most likely one trying to make his stuff come off in real life, right?

See, she's all happy and doing a Neil Sedaka(Laughter In The Rain, right?) celebration thing.  Probably wants to ball after.  Me chasing her down the hall, her barefoot, and me wearing one of her fuzzy bunny slippers, and one of my Garfield slippers.

But then I tell her, I'm the author, after all.

"You want a Life Line?  Phone-A-Friend?  Poll the Audience?"

We fade to black on the assumption I'm about to break that horror film rule and actually kill the leading lady.