It’s one thing to have a floor covered in the bloody footprints of victims trying to escape. It’s another to leave your own giant carbon footprint on the planet.
“That doesn’t make any sense,” your father will say while sucking meat off of a human femur. “You just connected footprint to footprint, but the two don’t have anything to do with each other.”
“Solar!” you shout, trying to change the subject. “Do you know with three solar panels we could power the entire conveyor-belt-into-circular-saw contraption downstairs without any need for electricity?”
Your brothers will take a break from masturbating into women’s handbags to consider this.
“And why aren’t we composting?” you ask. “The nutrients in all the human hair we throw away could feed a nice tomato plant.”
“Separate out the cans?” one of your brothers offers.
“That’s right!” you say. “We’re the only house on this block that doesn’t recycle!”
“More are coming!” the ghost of your grandmother will say via the rabbit skull on the altar. “They must die!”
“Okay we’ll table this for now,” you’ll say, gathering your scythe to go and murder some unsuspecting youths. “But seriously guys, it’s 2013. It’s time to prove that a kill house doesn’t have to kill the environment.”
Happy Sustainable Kill House Day!