Slick Willy, the True Tales of an American Supercriminal

[Mechaman]

Yes my name is, my name is Slick Willie
Just a billie from a little town called Hope
I see the world, it's a shade of green and red
Oh my lord, some people might just wind up dead.

Slick Willie Song-Primus 1994


Christopher Walken's Portrayal of William "Slick Willie" Clinton, one of America's most infamous serial killers, in the 1993 biopic "Slickman"

Slick Willy, the True Life Story of a Deranged Madman

In the annals of American History, few serial killers have captivated the nation like the much touted slingblader from the little town of Hope, Arkansas.  With his captivating dead eye stare, his irresistible charisma, and his superhuman intelligence, William Jefferson Clinton, known as "Billy" to his friends and family (whatever is left of them), left an unforgettable mark in the popular media as one of the most elusive and "slickest" criminals of his era.  From the murder of his girlfriend Hillary Rodham, an aspiring lawyer who dreamed of becoming a politician one day, to his involvement in the assassination of President Ronald Reagan in 1981, to the gruesome coldblooded murder of Donna Rice on board the Monkey Business, to his unforgettable capture at the World Trade Center on February 26th, 1993, he is one of the most recognizable faces in the world today.  His face is, in the words of the Reverend Pat Robertson, "The Face of Evil".

We all know the legend of Bill Clinton, the man who more than earned the title "The Fame Killer", using his connections with the affluent and the elite to get a scorecard that would make Charles Manson blush with envy.  His constant close evasions with the law, which only seemed to excite him more on his rampage.  His cool demeanor and confident air, even on the night of his trial, the most disconcerting twenty minutes many Americans have ever experienced.  He is, without a doubt, one of the most horrifying yet fascinating public figures of the 1980s and the 1990s.

But outside of the madman, the lunatic, the psychopath, the coldblooded bastard what is the man, Bill Clinton, really like?  Once we pull back the "slick curtain" of his infamy and examine the course of his life up to that fateful day in August 1972 when he claimed the life of his girlfriend Hillary Rodham in the midst of the McGovern campaign, we see a very different story.  There is little inclination from those that knew him best, not even his own mother, of the madness lurking beneath.  Therefore we go to the only place where we can truly find out what made Slick Willy crack.  We go to him.

[MASHED POTATOES. VOTE!]

Believe or not, I've had the same idea

(but I was lazier )

[FEMA Camp Administrator]

This is the best.

[MASHED POTATOES. VOTE!]

This is the best.

Man, the butterflies will fly wild.

[Mechaman]

Inside the MadHouse:



Bill O'Reilly watched closely as Slick Willy riffed off a mad tune while in the Warden's Office at New York State Penitentiary.  He was impressed by the level of skill and the expert air that the man, who was known for being a master of the art of killing, had pulled off.
Slick Willy stops, and gives the man an intense look.

It was September 11th, 2001.  It was a brisk cool Tuesday morning in upstate New York.  Billo wasn't so sure to make of this assignment, and was very surprised at the request of America's most infamous serial killer for an interview.  Many journalists and commentators had been trying for years to get an interview with Clinton, and suddenly he decides to go with the man from Inside Edition and not Larry King?
Okay, better than nothing I guess.  Well let's see where this goes.

O'Reilly takes out the notepad he had with him and glances at Clinton.  Clinton, looking back at him, gives a sadistic smile.
Clinton: My good man, do you have a smoke?
O'Reilly felt insulted.
O'Reilly: A smoke?  God's sake man, have you ever watched Inside Edition?
Slick Willy laughs nervously.
Clinton: I know all that politically correct bullsh*t about how smoking kills and causes cancer.  I don't give a sh*t, I'm dying anyway.
O'Reilly: We're live Slick, watch the bombs.
Clinton: Sh*t sorry.  Didn't notice the camera guy there.  Okay, Mr. Reilly, where would you like to begin?
O"Reilly: WEll, I have a real interest in finding out what made you tick.  Why you went down the road you went down on.  I've read the books, I've seen the interviews with your mother, I've even heard the old audiotapes by some of your old buddies.  And none of them seem to be able to give the story about how ole Bill Clinton down the block lost it.
Clinton: Well that's the thing isn't it?  Nobody really knows who anybody really is.  Nobody really knows except for the big man up in the sky, the snake down below, and the man behind the blue eyes.  Isn't that right, Bill'o?
O'Reilly starts scribbing in some notes.
O'Reilly: Right.
Clinton: For all I know, you could be a little light in the loafers.
O'REilly looks outraged.
Clinton: I mean, with the demeanor and rough air you portend on screen, it's almost like you are overcompensating for something.
O'Reilly points at Clinton, laughing.
O'Reilly: Nice trick Willie, but you are behind bars now.  Sleight of hand tricks and evasive mind tricks won't work here.  Just the story, from your own mouth.  This might be the last time you get to speak it before you fry.
Clinton looks off into the air.
Clinton: Okay, it all began in the sixties.  In college.

[Enderman]

Bump!

[Mechaman]

June 6th, 1968
In an apartment:



Robert F. Kennedy, Senator of New York: And we can not at long last hope to succeed in the face of such moral crises.
William J. Clinton, Future Rhodes SCholar: Good lord, what a windbag.  Just say "vote for me" already.
Roger Derricks, Close Friend: Come on Clinton, surely you must admit the advantages that a Kennedy run will bring.
Clinton: Oh please.  He is solely running off of the name of his older brother and using the momentum of the anti-war movement to advance his own political career.
Clinton gets out a little baggie, put some of the material in a pipe, and starts smoking.  He holds it in for a few seconds, before exhaling.
Clinton: My man!  This is the sh*t!
Derricks: So man, how are things going with Martha?
Clinton: She's a fine woman with some nice thighs, how do you think?  Get some butter and some nice olive oil and you got a full feast.
Derricks gets a Bud from a nearby cooler.
Derricks: That makes no sense.
Clinton: I go in, with some nice cheddar, and just go chow chow chow!
Derricks shakes his head.
Derricks: You still aren't making any damn sense, Slick.
Clinton: Do I need to spell it out for you?
Derricks: I don't think so, some kids might be listening in.  Or a middle school teacher.
Clinton chuckles.
Clinton: Didn't think so.  So what do you say are the chances of me becoming President?
Roger laughs.
Derricks: If you weren't such a pothead, I'd say very high.
Clinton: But you're saying there's a shot?
Derricks: Yeah man, whatever.  Man where'd you get this pot?
Clinton: From Master Jaycee at the Plaza Ten man.  Several dimes for a ten!
Derricks: Man I feel so high I could taste the colors.  Man if I was any higher I'd be able to smell numbers!
Clinton: So man, you and Monica how is that going?
Derricks: I don't know man.  She ain't putting out as much now man.  I thought things were going alright, but suddenly she is no longer hanging around as much or letting me come in at night man.
Clinton: Well, she just graduated ninth grade Rog.  It's such a hard and trying time for young women.
Derricks: So that explains the bars on the window!
Clinton laughs.
Clinton: Dude man, wait a few years man.  She obviously likes you, but state laws don't.
Derricks: Such a downer.
Clinton: You feel bad?  I'm never going to be President!  HOw do you think I feel!?
Derricks: Yeah you and 150 million other people.  If it makes you feel any better you got a lot better chance than I do.
Clinton: Oh really?
Derricks: I'm a Vermont Democrat, Billy.  I have a better chance at discovering the cure to cancer.
Clinton: Good point.  Democrats at least have an establishment advantage in Arkansas.  THough with this hippie love thing, it seems like that even Vermont might be capable to Democratic intrigue.
Derricks laughs.
Derricks: WE can only hope that every year is 1964.  Hopefully anti-war forces can win.
And then suddenly.

Boom.  Boom.  Bang.  Bang.  Thud.

Derricks: Holy sh*t!  Holy sh*t!  Holy sh*t!  Holy sh*t!
Clinton: Did he just?
Derricks: Holy sh*t!
Clinton: Did I just see-
Derricks: Holy sh*t!
Clinton: My lord. . . . . . . second in a year.
At the time Clinton would recall being completely and utterly shocked by the events.  However, not long after he would come to realize that he did not fear men like Sirhan Sirhan and the riots men like him produced.  Quite the opposite really, he had begun to envy them.

[morgieb]

Great idea.

[Sec. of State Superique]

What happened after the Boom Boom thing? I'm confused....

Was Kennedy assassinated?

[Mechaman]

What happened after the Boom Boom thing? I'm confused....

Was Kennedy assassinated?

Uh. . . . . yes.

[Mechaman]

Back in the present:

O'Reilly: Well we all know about the first love of your life, Hillary Rodham.
The cameras show Slick Willy, who for a second looks like he has even a look of regret and even shame.
Clinton: She was the love of my life.  It was just something that was never to be.  I had my dreams and she had hers.
O'Reilly: So you ended hers?
Clinton: Well, that was never supposed to happen.  I tried to end things amicably.
O'Reilly looks intrigued.
O'Reilly: Oh really?  A woman who wouldn't leave you?  I find that hard to believe.
Clinton laughs, before turning back towards the camera.
Clinton: If there is anything I regret, it's that she had to be the first one.  Murder is easy, love isn't.
O'Reilly gives Clinton a look of spite.
O'Reilly: You don't know what love is, Slick.
Clinton laughs again.
Clinton: You know what, maybe you are right Bill.  And the fact is, I didn't love her.  Nor did I ever decide to.  Still, the thought of what might have been always weighs heavily on my mind.
O'Reilly: So you just decided to kill her, for your own convenience?
Clinton: I know it's hard for you to understand, but the best way to make a problem go away. . . . . is to make it disappear.



January 8th, 1972
An Apartment
Sometime in the night:

Bill Clinton and his lover Hillary Rodham lay under the covers.  Clinton was busy having a smoke while Hillary was laying against his chest.  Clinton, who had just joined as a coordinator for George McGovern's presidential campaign, was thinking of how to break the news to her.  This would require him to quit school for some time to work fulltime on the campaign trail.  And he wanted her to come with him.  It would be difficult, as she was in the midst of her studies, but he could make it work regardless.
Clinton: Hey Hillary, there's something I've been meaning to tell you.
She laughs.
Hillary: Besides that you've taken up smoking?  I mean dear lord, do you have any respect for your health?
Clinton: You know you are no fun at all.
Hillary: I'm just saying it's a health hazard and it smells.
Clinton: Jeez, you sound like an absolute Rockefeller.
Hillary: Well, the Republicans were the party of Civil Rights, it just that they are now going off the deep end with heartless conservatism.
Clinton: Well I think you are just now finding out what the party is really all about.  And besides, down in the old state your feel good narrative doesn't ring so true.  New Dealery is here to stay, whether the plutocrats in Washington like it or not and I will be working my ass off for McGovern to see it through.
Hillary: Wait a minute, you're joining the campaign?
Clinton: FUll time, as an advisor.
Hillary: But what about our plans?  What about your schooling?
Clinton laughs.
Clinton: I figure I make a real name for myself on this trail, along with the schooling I already have, the extra degree won't be as important.
Hillary gets out of bed, with her hands on her head, looking at him with some wonder.
Hillary: Have you completely F***IN LOST IT?
Clinton goes to the refrigerator and gets a Budweiser.  He cracks it open and takes a big drink.
Clinton: Before you say it, yeah I've been drinking to.  I really don't want to hear it.
Hillary: I mean, what the f*** has gotten into you?! I mean, you just decide on a whim to f***ing drop your f***ing future for what?  That f***in' hippie campaign?!
Clinton: Come on Hillary, you're not thinking it all the way through.  Nixon is a pretty rot bastard, it's just a matter of time before the truth comes out on him and we have a chance to win-
Hillary: That joke of a candidate will never win!  Never win!
Clinton: Just the other day you spoke highly of that joke and his stances.
Hillary: That you would throw away your career for such a doomed campaign is just. . . . .unbelievable!  Are you a man at all!?
Clinton slams the wall.
Clinton: You are just being unbelievable.  You know what?  F*** this, I'm going over to Georgie's house right now and going to have some nice bud.  You are just killing all the negativity in the place!
Hillary: Fine!  You F***!  Enjoy your drugs!  Enjoy your alcohol!  Enjoy flushing your life down the toilet!
Throws pot at wall.
Once outside of the apartment, Clinton tries lighting a cigarette, but the wind is blowing to hard for his lighter to catch.  Frustrated he throws the lighter.
Clinton: F***IN THING SUCKS!

Thirty Minutes Later
Georgie's House:

Bill Clinton is at the house of his friend George "Georgie" L. Niven III, the son of a wealthy Connecticut family who was majoring in Naval Law or some sh*t.  Niven was high off of some fresh dope when Clinton came in.  Clinton, already used to the fresh scent and perspective of pot, quickly accepted some of the dope.  Sitting down on a nearby couch, Clinton starts to unload.
Clinton: I just can't f***ing believe it.  This chick was all psyched and all about getting politically involved and decides to unleash on me.
Niven: Well you have all the time in the world to pursue further studies.  Besides, you already got enough education to get a job at most reputable law firms.
Clinton: Yes but I want to get into politics!
Niven: Which shouldn't be a problem if you get experience this Primary Season, right?  I think that bitch is just jealous that Lindsay doesn't have a shot!  F***in paternalists, the lot of them!
Clinton: Yeah you're right, that bitch was backing Rocky in '68!  What would she know about Democratic loyalty?
Niven: Yeah, I wouldn't give up on your future for that woman.  If you want to campaign for McGovern you should do it.  Seriously f*** her.
Clinton takes a big smoke.
Clinton: Yea, sometimes I feel like just killing that woman.  That would solve all of my problems.
Niven: Yeah, except that you would be in jail and you would be somebody's bitch.
Clinton smokes.
Clinton: Yeah, I'm still trying to work that part out.

[Enderman]

The Edward Snowden interview on NBC reminded me of this...

[Mechaman]

Hello everyone!

I got an update for this in Word on my computer that I should hopefully have up tonight.

Westman is on hold until I get other projects (namely this, Empire State, and the Carter TL) caught up in terms of story development.

If I'm real active this month, maybe even a few updates on my long delayed Goldwater and Gantt timelines.

[Mechaman]

Hyannis Port, May 8th, 1996:



Former United States Senator Edward Kennedy is seated in a wheelchair that he has been in since 1990.  The incident which had left him so incapacitated was that which took him from the Chamber that he held dear to his heart.  Part of him truly regretted not running for re-election in 1994, but the stress, heartache, emotional toil, and personal battles he fought in those four years were enough for him to throw in the gloves.
After the rise of Mitt Romney, though, he was starting to have some strong regrets about retiring.  In a few years that man would likely be president, given the momentum he is currently enjoying.  Really, the comeback of the Massachusetts GOP had him shaking, as he thought that the moderate Republicanism of the party had be thoroughly rebuked in the past three decades.  Sure, President Bush really motivated Republican hopes in the eighties, taking up the mantle of his predecessor and infusing it with “Compassionate Conservatism” as he called it.
The assassination of Reagan came at a most opportune time, around the budget debates of 1981.  Some of Reagan’s advisors advocated for extreme welfare program cuts that would’ve brought the US back to levels of government welfare from the early 1930s.  Basically, they wanted to return the US back to the Roaring Twenties.  After Reagan’s assassination in March of ’81, Bush came to the presidency and immediately brought about a pragmatic moderate conservative approach to governance.
To this day there are those who argue that assassin John Hinckley, Jr., whose family had known Bush for years, was secretly employed by Bush to bring about the death of Reagan.  Later on it would be revealed that infamous serial killer Bill “Slick Willie” Clinton was actually the main influence on Hinckley to kill Reagan.
The same man who was responsible for putting Kennedy in this wheelchair.  Well, at least I lost a few pounds.
Kennedy looked at the interviewer before him.  Walter Cronkite was a legend who is most known for his coverage of the assassination of John F. Kennedy, Ted’s older brother.  Now pushing into the upper boundaries of old age, Cronkite specifically requested this interview in the wake of the government shutdown, the recent scandals with HUD Secretary Andrew Cuomo (the son of the incumbent President, whose appointment in 1994 to replace the resigning predecessor as “controversial”), questions about Vice President Joseph Biden’s recent plagiarism scandal on the campaign trail, the chances that California Senator Jerry Brown had at an upset over the incumbent Vice President in the closing days of the Primary season (current delegate counts have Biden with a small lead, but that could be overtaken with just a small shift in superdelegates), as well as his encounter with the infamous “Slick Willie”.
Larry King: Hello this is Larry King.  Today I get the opportunity to interview the former long time US Senator of Massachusetts, Edward Kennedy.  Affectionately known to his friends, family, and the people as “Ted”.  Great to have you here Senator.
Edward Kennedy: More like great to have you here Larry!  Mother was always insisting that this house be full with friends and family.  I’m just glad to have the opportunity to have those close to us show up when they can.
Kennedy’s mother died a couple of years ago.  Rose Kennedy, the matriarch of the family who lived to be 104 years old and see the births of many grandchildren and great grandchildren, passed away one day in 1994.  Her passing would impact Teddy deeply, who was trying to balance sobriety with his disabled state and inner turmoil with working in the US Senate for the last few months of his long illustrious career.
King: Well first I would like to ask you about Bill.
Kennedy felt a revulsing feeling in his stomach.
Kennedy: I don’t want to talk about that sick son of a bitch.
King: Ted, it’s been six years.  Don’t you think it’s time for some closure?
Kennedy, thinking about how out of control his alcohol dependency had gotten in the wake of the infamous attack, decided to let go.
Kennedy: I mean, I trusted him Larry.  I trusted him!  Everybody did!  Bill Clinton was a reliable member of Congress!
King: I found it interesting, before all those revelations, that he decided to stay on the Congressional level than make another attempt at the Governorship, don’t you?
Kennedy shrugged.
Kennedy: Well you gotta keep in mind the times.  After he lost that race, he was under the impression that would be the last time he would ever be able to compete effectively statewide.  As well, he always had a sociopathic urge to mingle with high society, which is what Washington really is about.
King: Now you said you actually met Clinton when he was campaigning for McGovern in ’72?
Kennedy nods.
Kennedy: Yes, I remember that day just like it was yesterday.  Which is really funny, before all of this madness, right when he first got into Congress, he had to remind me about that day.  Now I can’t get it out of my mind, even if I wanted to. . . . .