Lloyd stared glassy-eyed into the blue rays of the monitor. The boss says ‘Man the monitors’, so he mans the monitors. It was a slow day. The most interesting thing he’d seen was a crotchety old tourist couple fighting. He sighed, almost ready to cut out early, when he saw it.

A couple entered the elevator. The woman had her legs wrapped around the man’s middle, her dress hiked up around her hips. The woman’s face was the picture of ecstasy, but he couldn’t see her partener’s.

Then the woman became a little aggravated. It looked like she was screaming, pounding her partener’s back. But he plowed on. The woman stopped moving and he dropped her. Blood pooled around his feet and stained his shirt, a knife dangling in one hand. He stood on tip-toe, bringing his face to the camera. If you could call it a face. The man was completely done up in clown make-up.

Lloyd could see him laughing, his eyes bright and crazed. The man blew a kiss into the camera, tracing his finger on the lense in the shape of a heart.