The Cabot Cove Killer
If you ask Google, America's most successful serial killer was a man named Samuel Little, with a body count of 93, stacked between 1970-2005.
Google is wrong. There was someone worse. Much worse. And she got away with it, too. That's right. Feminists take note: America's most successful killer was a woman, and between 1984-1996 she more than doubled Little's body count in less than half the time. And her murder spree began when she was 59 years old.
Of course I'm talking about the Cabot Cove Killer, the century-old demon impersonating a feeble, gentle, innocent old woman. The creature who terrorized the state or Maine for over a decade.
Of course I'm talking about the star of the 12-time Emmy winning television show Murder She Wrote. I'm talking about the nightmare in flesh, Angela Lansbury.
Everywhere she goes, bodies are dropping. In every episode, Lansbury is visiting a friend or second-cousin once removed. She has an unlikely number of family and friends, who we must assume she is using as cover for her true motives. Everywhere she goes, bodies are dropping. She's not a professional detective. It's not her job to deal with these murders. No one called her up and asked her to look at a crime scene. They just happen. All the time. Everywhere she goes. Just a few times, I can believe. Hey, we've all been there. But there's no way this can just be a series of coincidences.
There are 265 episodes of Murder She Wrote and four movies. Each episode has at least one body, but more start stacking up as soon as Angela Lansbury shows up, like a plague rat in a medieval village. That's 12 seasons of mindless bloodshed. If we're being extra generous and saying ONLY 265 bodies dropped whenever she rolled into town, that's more than 22 bodies a year. That's a body every other week.
Isn't it obvious what's happening here? Do I need to spell it out? Angela Lansbury is America's most successful serial killer. She's a walking, talking genocide. Don't fall for her act. Her gentle smile. Her fake surprise. Her phony concern. Angela Lansbury is a monster, covered head-to-toe in the blood of her victims.
Her victims aren't just the dead. Oh no! Many are still alive. You see, after every one of these bodies, she meticulously frames someone else. There are literally hundreds of people in prison right now for crimes they didn't commit. Plastic surgery test pilot, Kim Kardashian, has yet to take on any one of these cases. It's disgraceful.
Every time this expert in making up murder stories shows up in town, without fail, people start dying. Oh! Look who happens to be in town! None other than legendary crime author come amateur detective, Angela Lansbury! What a remarkably unlikely coincidence that keeps happening again and again and again! And without fail, Angela unravels a preposterously complex reason why someone else is guilty of her murders.
Her crimes are all off screen, but it couldn't be more obvious. Read the subtext. Put it all together. Each murder is a little trophy she adds to her collection in the form of fictionalized accounting of her crimes. Psychopathic narcissists love to lie for its own sake, and most of all, they love to dangle those lies in front of others to stoke their own feeling of superiority. The Zodiac Killer and Son of Sam didn't taunt the cops because they wanted to be caught. Taunting the cops is fun. And Angela's taunts to her son readers who couldn't see the obvious truth was worth more than the blood money she earned from every royalty check.
It's way past time that someone blew the whistle on her and made her answer for her crimes. I know I'm putting my life in jeopardy by writing this, but I'm willing to risk a few of the claymore mines in my yard.
Update
While researching, it has come to my attention that Angela Lansbury died yesterday. It seems she got word that famous author Yankee Grawlix was about to expose her and she chose to fake a peaceful death in her sleep to escape justice.