THE STORY OF A RIPPER
Jack the Ripper brutalised the Whitechapel district of London in the year 1888. His method of mutilating his prostitute victims has been the source of many a frightening legend and bedtime story. The crimes were never solved, and the truth became so entangled with the legend that in the end the biggest mystery remained the question of what the mystery actually was. But one question was never even nearly answered. The very question that would have closed the case and set the minds of all law-abiding prostitutes at ease: “Who is Jack? I mean really, who IS he?”
Thanks to the boundless reaches of imagination and the reality-crippling laws of fiction, yours truly at Better Than Sliced Bread managed to get an exclusive interview with the one and only Nemesis of Neglect, the Blade of the Beast: Mr. Jack the Ripper. Get ready for a blast in the past as we take you back in time with this jewel from the archives of BTSB.
Better Than Sliced Bread: Thank you ever so much for agreeing to do this interview, Mr. Ripper.
Jack the Ripper: The pleasure is all mine, I’m sure. Oh, and do call me Jack. I feel like such a celebrity with those names of affection that the public have devised for me.
BTSB: Alright then, Jack. But truly, it isn’t your real name, is it? I mean who in their right mind would go on a murder spree and use their real name (laughs)? So tell us, tell us all. What is your real name? The ladies especially want to know who their charming stalker in the night is.
JTR: Oh, you know I can’t tell you that. If I did, those grunts at Metropolitan Police would get whiff of me. They’re such a laughable bunch, don’t you think? All that running around looking for clues which, when they do find them, they realise have been planted by me and have been part of my devious plan all along (laughs heartily).
BTSB: Yes, the police are quite a sorry bunch, but I guess it’s because of the poor wages. You mentioned a plan? You mean that this isn’t just the random work of a lunatic struck by an insane hatred towards women of the self-peddling profession? Is there a method to Jack the Ripper’s madness?
JTR: Again, you flatter me needlessly. No, nothing about my acts has been random. If you’d just take your time to investigate the bodies and especially the patterns in which the mutilations appear on them, you’d find out all you need.
BTSB: What an intriguing piece of evidence. Too bad, then, that the Metropolitan Police has already cremated the bodies, again because of the lack of proper funding and paid vacations.
JTR: Gosh, poor sods. This goes to show what unbalanced government budgeting will do to the service industry. I will just have to butcher more women so that they can finally get some proper evidence.
BTSB: Yes, you do that. I’m sure the good people at Metropolitan Police will be ever so grateful. Now back to the man behind the mystery. The reading public would love to know something personal about you. Is there a Mrs. Ripper?
JTR: To all the single, non-prostituting women out there, I’m sorry, yes there is. But I can reveal to you this much: she’s a beautiful woman and knows nothing about my … trade. If she did find out, I’m sure she’d want to stay out of the spotlight because she’s such a darling and just wants to take care of our household.
BTSB: So what do you do in your free time? Do you indulge in any hobbies or other extra-slashing activities?
JTR: Well I do enjoy the occasional game of chess, though who wouldn’t? I’m also writing a manuscript of a book. It’s going to be about a brilliant-minded serial killer, who’s also a cannibal. He’s locked in a cell and is visited by a beautiful woman from the Scotland Yard. The novel tells about their interplay and how their characters are ultimately mixed in a daring cat-and-mouse game with another serial killer. It’s going to be huge.
BTSB: Well we’ll just have to wait and read it, won’t we? I’m sure it will be a bestseller. Who better to write about a serial killer than someone who is one himself?
JTR: You’re quite right (chuckles).
BTSB: Our time is coming to an end, and I’d like to do a little questionnaire for you, if that’s ok.
JTR: Of course, I love exams.
BTSB: Very good, answer as quickly as you can with the first thing that comes to mind about the word I say.
Color: Red. Food: Veal. Symbol: All-seeing eye. God: Guides me. Truth: Compels me. Whores: Disgust me. Queen Victoria: I call her “Vicky”. Your name: S… Hah, almost got me there!
BTSB: Well, can’t blame a chap for trying. Thank you ever so much for this interview, Mr. Ripper. Is there anything you want to say to the reading public, before you vanish into anonymity again?
JTR: Thank you very much for having me. There’s only one thing I want to say to the people reading this: one day men will look back and say that I gave birth to the 20th century.
BTSB: Ouch, that must be painful.
[tags]Jack, Ripper, interview, Whitechapel, London, 1888[/tags]