Walking aimlessly around the lawns and gathering places of the local college campus, Kelly Oubre kept his eyes peeled for suitable interview candidates. He was holding his iPhone in one hand, capturing all the footage of his movements, and a GoPro was strapped to his chest to get a different angle of the same shot. He was looking for attractive young men to interview for his YouTube channel, Wave Papi’s Man-Overs. From his observance of other male-beauty-themed YouTube channels, so-called “on-the-street” videos featuring “real people” were an underrepresented genre. Kelly knew that his channel would really take off once he uploaded his video of him getting fashion and beauty tips from guys on the street who were square in the middle of his target demographic of 14- to 30-year-old males.
He had already talked to a few people, at least one of which being a big enough NBA fan to realize who the interviewer was. Honestly, Kelly hoped that he wasn’t recognized too much, as that would taint the quality of the conversations he was having with these people. He wanted real, candid conversations about male beauty products. Not fanboys who wanted to talk about all the dunks he had last game.
Across the street, Kelly saw a young man sauntering towards a nearby Starbucks. Seeing his chance, Kelly checked for traffic, then jogged across the street and approached him. “Hey, I’m doing a little video for YouTube. Can you tell me what your skincare routine is like? And maybe what products you use in your hair?”
The man’s face broke into a smile. “Man, I use so much stuff that even my girlfriend makes fun of me.”
“I wanna hear about it, then,” Kelly said with a laugh. However, as the man started rambling about his very comprehensive methods for looking as good as possible, Kelly’s eyes wandered to an alley to the side of the Starbucks.
“Today could be his final day,” said a sinister voice in Kelly’s head. “You could end it all right now.”
Kelly’s attention snapped back to attention when he realized he had been asked a question about his preferred barber. “Oh, I see this guy back in my hometown. I travel a lot, but I always make sure to stop by there to get the freshest cuts.”
The young man continued to talk about his haircut history, and how there weren’t enough hairdressers in the Phoenix area who could pull off the trendy hairstyles successfully. Kelly tried to stay focused on what the man was saying, but that inner voice kept interrupting.
“End him. End him. End him NOW!” said the voice. The last ‘now!’ was so loud that it was almost audible to Kelly’s ears.
“Hey, can we step back here?” Kelly said, pointing to the alley. “There’s a bit too much background noise out here on the sidewalk. I wanna make sure this can all go on YouTube.” This lie was readily accepted by the man, who followed Kelly down a ways between the two brick buildings. Kelly noticed that there was a sledgehammer leaning against a trashcan. What a strange object to leave behind in an alley, Kelly thought. But he subconsciously placed himself within easy reach of it.
Meanwhile, the man continued talking like nothing was amiss. He had been talking about his various beauty routines for at least five minutes and showed no signs of slowing down. Kelly could sympathize; it was unlikely that the man’s friends ever let him bloviate on the ten different creams he used depending on the day’s humidity. That was one of the goals of Wave Papi’s Man-Overs: to provide an outlet for men who had to keep their enthusiasm for their appearance a secret.
“Now, now, shut him up, shut him up, now, do it NOW!” urged the voice in Kelly’s head, and, this time, Kelly didn’t resist. Slowly, to avoid the man noticing anything, he reached his hand over to the handle of the sledgehammer. Then, in one quick movement, he grabbed it with both hands and took a large swing at the man’s head.