Lemur-man arrived at the scene of the crime and saw the forensic photographer taking photos of two headless corpses.
“G’morning, Sam.”
“Morning, Lemur,” the photographer responded.
“Woof, this is grisly,” the super-hero said.
“The Grizzley?” Sam snapped another photo. “I thought he was locked up in the Iron Cage?”
“No, I meant grisly,” the hero corrected, “like gruesome.” Lemur-man scanned for evidence with his enhanced Lemur-senses.
“You’re telling me,” the photographer agreed. “They say it might be a serial killer. I swear, it’s like this all the time now.”
Lemur-man smiled. “Remember when criminals just wanted to rob banks, or steal money with RC cars, or kidnap the mayor’s daughter for ransom?”
“Yep, wholesome stuff,” Sam said. “It’s weird, that all feels like last year and like fifty years ago at the same time.”
“It was at least five costumes ago for me,” Lemur-man added.
“And haircuts, but I wasn’t going to say.”
“Hey, the mullet was cool.”
“Sure,” Same said. “Our FBI liaison is supposed to be getting in touch with one of their psych guys in order to draw up a profile of the killer here. I can email you a copy when that’s drawn up.”
“No, thank you,” Lemur-man said, shaking his head. “What would I care about that for?”
“You know? You got to get inside the mind of the serial killer to catch a serial killer. See what he sees.”
“Naw, man,” the hero replied pointing to his nose. “I know what he smells like.”