Episode NotesWe've all heard the stories of the maniac on the loose who has a razor sharp hook for a hand, but for the first time ever we are presenting his side of the gory story!The Hook by Rob FieldsMusic by Ray Mattishttp://raymattispresents.bandcamp.comProduced by Daniel WilderGet Cool Merchandise http://store.weeklyspookySupport us on Patreon http://patreon.com/IncrediblyHandsomeContact Us/Submit a Storytwitter.com/WeeklySpookyfacebook.com/WeeklySpookyWeeklySpooky@gmail.comThis episode sponsored by HenFlix.comFor everything else visit WeeklySpooky.comTranscription:How many times have I been asked this question? How many times have I been asked, “Why, Farley? Why’d ya do it?” Police, reporters, headshrinkers, an even the guards here at Grafton Prison. They all ask me the same question. An every time, I give ’em the same answer. “Because I could.”Have ya figured it out yet? I’m a murderer. That’s right, a murderer. I been killin’ people since I got outta high school. It all started twenty years ago with my high school sweetheart. We were supposed to get married. Problem was she liked to keep naggin’ an naggin’ on. One day, she got drunk off her ass, came to my back door, an started pickin’ at me. I coulda just closed the door on her, but I decided I really didn’t hafta just take her shit. I was a man an she was just a panty-dropper. So I came outside an picked up the ax. Her head sure sailed quite a ways before it came to land at the back door. Ya know what? It felt mighty good! So I been targetin’ bitches for many years after that. One right after another . . . I had such a good time choppin’ an hackin’ ’em up. Bitches ain’t nothin’ but leeches. All they do is take an take an take from ya. Way I saw it, I was doin’ their fellas a tremendous favor. Of course, I wasn’t gonna get away with it forever. Ya probably knew that already, right? One day, I was killin’ this panty-dropper in her nice home. Next thing I know, her fella comes in. Turned out to be a pig. Instead of tryin’ to arrest me, he lost his head an came at me. The two of us had a big fight. Guess the pig fella really loved his bitch, because he eventually got hold of the ax I used to chop her up with . . . an he cut off my freakin’ hand as I was pushin’ myself off a dresser. That was the last thing I remembered before I woke up in jail, a few days after the incident. I now had a neatly-bandaged stump where my hand used to be, probably from when I was rushed to the hospital. A few weeks later, I’m in Grafton Prison. Yeah, there was no question of my guilt. Especially when I told the bitch judge I’d come for her once I get outta here. There are even a few bitches here as guards. Two of ’em work on my block. They can never help but just look at me. An every now an then, they still ask me, “Why, Farley, why did ya do it?”“Because I could!” I tell ’em again an again. So every day I just sit here in my cell. They don’t put nobody in here with me. Let’s just say I ended up killin’ my last two cellmates. Even with one hand, I can still get the job done. Teeth can work just as well as a hand when yer tearin’ their throats out. Especially when they get stupid an fall asleep. I just sit in my cell an workin’ out my escape plan. Then, after all these years, I get some rather interestin’ news. Turns out I’m gettin’ a hook to replace my lost hand. I end up bein’ taken to the infirmary where the people there will put it on my stump. Wouldn’t ya know it? There’s a doctor bitch here that’s gonna put the hook on. I’m secured tight an put to sleep as the bitch puts the hook on. When it’s all done, I get wheeled back to my cell. Problem here is that I now have a deadly weapon attached to my body an the sleep stuff wears off too soon. The guards don’t even expect me to just turn on ’em after they remove the straps to put me back in my cell. With my new hook, I can easily rip out their throats. I even go back to kill the doctor bitch who put the hook on. Had to give her my thanks an a