Dexter meets Seinfeld
For whatever bizarre reason, last night I was thinking about my two favorite TV shows, Dexter and Seinfeld, or specifically, the title characters. Then I had an idea. A really strange idea. What would happen if Dexter Morgan and Jerry Seinfeld got together for a cup of coffee to shoot the breeze? I know, I know, weird. But readers need to know the truth about us. About authors. This post right here? This is exact kind of crazy authors think up all the time. Readers have no clue how random and bizarre the things ricocheting around the gray matter between our ears are ninety-percent of our waking. Meh, maybe ninety-nine percent and in our dreams as well, but hey, you get the picture.
So… on to our interview. Dexter is waiting at the coffee shop near Jerry’s apartment. His predatory nature requires he arrive fifteen minutes early so his Dark Passenger can scope out the café, pinpoint all the exits, and note any suspicious activities. Sipping his god-awful coffee, Dexter’s shrewd gaze continuously takes a calculated assessment of the room and the handful of patrons scattered about.
Jerry: “Helloooo!” Seinfeld’s entrance is met with a bevy of greetings from other diners. He saunters over to Dexter’s table and takes one look at the brooding man before giving the waitress one of his sarcastic ‘what the heck is wrong with this guy’ looks—complete with thumb jabbing in Dexter’s direction—before sliding into the opposite side of the booth. “I’m Jerry. You must be Dexter.”
Dexter’s Dark Passenger: (to himself) Yes, among other, more evil things.
Dexter: Pastes on a smile, doing his best imitation of a polite human. “Dexter Morgan, pleased to meet you.”
Jerry: “Really? Pleased? Let me get this straight. You are pleased to meet me?” Jerry chuckles. “I find that hard to believe.”
Dexter: Dexter’s mask slips and he becomes the cold, calculating killer, born in blood to become what he is today. “I forgot.” Dexter allows his Dark Passenger to smirk. “You already know what I am. Who I am, which means there’s no need for me to wear my mask during our little… chat.”
Jerry: “Ah yes, the infamous mask. What exactly is this mask made of? Is it latex? I have a great latex salesman if you need one. Or do you just stand in front of the mirror and practice making faces? Like, one day do you come up with something and say ‘this smile is for when I’m creepy’ and ‘this one is for when I’m about to cut people into tiny pieces’?”
Dexter: Arches a sinister, curved brow. “I do whatever my Dark Passenger tells me to do.”
Jerry: Makes a face. “Dark Passenger? You have a Dark Passenger? Do you carry him around all the time? Like, on your back? I would think after a while he would get pretty heavy. Do you have a good chiropractor?” Jerry laughs.
Dexter: (stares)
Jerry: Scratch sense of humor off the list of this guy’s charming personality traits. “Hey, did you ever wonder what serial killers are thinking when they decide who they’re going to kill? I mean do they just pick one out like a steak at the butcher shop? Pretends to be looking at something and points. ‘Hmmm, that one looks good, nice and thick and tender. Hey buddy, give me two pounds of the investment banker. Oh, and another pound of soccer mom.’ I mean, take a look around this place. Who would you kill?” Jerry points toward a man eating alone at the counter. “Take that guy over there. He’s by himself, kind of pathetic looking. I think if I were a serial killer, I’d kill him. No one would miss a guy like that.” Jerry snorts. “Actually, come to think of it, he kind of reminds me of my friend George…”
Dexter: As Jerry tapers off, Dexter gives the man at the counter a cursory glance before leveling an emotionless stare at Jerry. “No. I don’t wonder what serial killers are thinking. I know what they’re thinking. In fact, I’m kind of an expert. My sister Debra comes to me all the time asking questions about cases. Poor thing.” There’s a gleam in Dexter’s previously lifeless eyes. “Besides, that guy isn’t my type.”
Jerry: Hmph. The blood spatter analyst has no sense of humor. Great. Might as well be talking to Newman. “Okay, then who is your type?”
Dexter: “Killers.”
Jerry: “Killers? What does that mean? You only kill killers?”
Dexter: “Yes. They must deserve to die, and I have to prove their guilt with ironclad evidence. It’s the only way. Harry’s code.”
Jerry: “Well, I hate to point out the obvious… actually, that’s not true, I’m going to thoroughly enjoy pointing it out. Aren’t you a killer? By your, or Harry’s, code, you have to kill yourself.”
Dexter: “It doesn’t work that way, my Dark Passenger protects me. We serve a higher purpose, therefore, we must continue to live in order to take out the guilty.” Though right about now we wouldn’t mind making an exception to permanently shut you up.
Jerry: “You are one strange man, Dexter Morgan. Stranger than my friend Kramer, and he is really strange.” Dexter frowns and quirks his brow again. “Hey now, I’ve never killed anyone buddy, that means I’m safe. Well, unless you count killing it on stage. I’ve done that a million times.” Jerry laughs at his own joke.
Dexter: ….
Jerry: “Anyone ever tell you that you need to loosen up?”
Dexter: “No. I’m quite adept at pretending to be human.”
Jerry: “Meh, I get it. To be honest, I don’t actually care about other people at all. I wouldn’t go so far as to kill them.” Jerry holds up his hands. “Not that there’s anything wrong with that.”
Dexter: Grins. “No, there isn’t.”
Jerry: “Okay, so, thanks for the chat.” Slowly slides out of booth and tosses money on the table. “I think I’m gonna go now. I gotta be… somewhere. I’m not going to say ‘see you later’ because I have to tell you, I have absolutely no plans of ever talking to you again if I can help it.”
Dexter: “I wouldn’t expect anything else.” Stands and pulls a pair of leather gloves out of his back pocket, carefully pulling each one on and flexing his fingers. “Besides, I have plans of my own.”
Jerry: Watches Dexter paste a pleasant look on his face as he leaves the diner. “Man, that guy is really, really bizarre.” Realizes something and takes off after Dexter. “Hey! Wait up! I need to tell you about my neighbor, Newman. You might be interested in hearing about him. Now, to my knowledge, Newman hasn’t actually killed anyone, but the guy is so irritating…”
