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Patrick woke up that morning alone — he didn't remember how last night went until he saw the bloody foot prints on his floor — oh yeah — he had left his ex girlfriend from school cut up and dead in the living room. He was surprised that the smell hadn't caused a complaint yet from the burnt flesh, blood, piss, and vomit on the ground. Patrick quickly cleaned up — mumbling and talking to himself before throwing out everything that took part in the murder.

He continued on with his morning routine before the phone rang — "Hello." Patrick greeted professionally, "Hi Patrick, what're you doing today?" It was Evelyn. Patrick felt the urge to smash the phone at the sound of her voice, "Oh nothing dear." He responded — truth was, he wanted to make a reservation at a restaurant with Beatrice. "I'm actually at Sequoia's right now and was wondering if you wanted to join me." Patrick saw this as an opportunity and quickly obliged.

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As Patrick walks in, he holds a box of chocolate cake as a special desert for Evelyn — it was actually a chocolate covered urinal cake. He handed it to the waiter and pointed to Evelyn, making sure she got it. The waiter walked over and delivered it to her — Patrick walked over with a grin — it didn't reach his eyes but Evelyn couldn't tell as she smiled and put a hand on her chest, "Oh Patrick, how sweet." He sat down before waiting for Evelyn to open and eat the cake.

She did and quickly pushed it away, "Oh Patrick, you know I can't eat chocolate." He scoffed, "Come on Evelyn." She held strong and said no resulting it Patrick banging a fist on the table before speaking. "I think um, Evelyn, that uh, we lost touch." Evelyn's brows furrow with worry, "Why? What's wrong?" Patrick grits between his teeth, "My need to engage in homicidal behaviour on a massive scale cannot be corrected but, uh, I have no other way to fulfill my needs." Evelyn clearly hasn't heard him as she starts continues to speak before Patrick stops her, "I'm fucking serious. It's fucking over, us, this is no joke. I don't think we should see each other any more." Patrick spat making Evelyn start to cry and wail — making a scene that Patrick clearly isn't comfortable with. "But your friends are my friends and my friends are your friends. I really don't think it would work. You have a little something..." She points at a blemish Patrick has and he just gets up.

"I know that your friends are my friends and, uh... I've thought about that. You can have 'em." Patrick grins at her. "You're inhuman." Evelyn says and Patrick shakes his head, "No... I'm in touch with my humanity." Evelyn wipes her tears with the napkin, "Where are you going?" Patrick turns to her, "I am just leaving." Evelyn cries, "But where?" Patrick turns around once more and looks at Evelyn, "I have to return some videotapes." He books it out of there, leaving her crying and having people come and comfort her.

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Going back to his apartment — Beatrice sat on the white couch — she looked more disheveled but she had a smile on her face. "Hi Bateman. How's life been treating you? I saw that woman's head in your fridge, who was that? An ex? A hooker? Just a random woman?" Patrick went over and grabbed her by the shoulders, "What the fuck are you doing here." He gritted. Beatrice just giggled, she wore a large coat and a black dress — Patrick couldn't tell the brand but he could see she wore black Valentino high heels. "Answer my question." Patrick reiterated and Beatrice sighed before standing up. "I wanted us to go out to the town y'know? Look around and maybe find some new people to chop up." She laughed and Patrick couldn't help but furrow his brows — he sighed before nodding. "Okay, let's go." He grabbed her by the arm and pulled her out of the room. He knew what he wanted to do.

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The two rode in Paul Allen's limo — going around to see if they could pick up some hookers Beatrice smoked a cigarette, it made Patrick disgusted. "Throw that out. What's wrong with you." Patrick scoffed making Beatrice do as he said. "I've been feeling like my mask of sanity is about to slip." Beatrice's words made him gulp before he looked out the window and saw a blonde woman — she looked young and hopeless which made him want her. He made the driver stop before he rolled down the window. "Hi there." He threw on the charm and made the girl smile at him. "I um.." The girl kept stuttering and saying that she couldn't leave the corner until she saw the dollar bills in Patrick's hand. She went to grab it but Patrick pulled away and shook his head. She looked around once more — possibly to see if her pimp was watching before nodding and getting into the limo.

"My name is Paul. Paul Allen." He makes sure the girl listens — Beatrice can tell she feels uncomfortable and she grins at her — it doesn't help. "Your name is Christie. Okay, Christie?" Patrick says to the girl and she nods — he gives her the money and she has a small smile on her face from the amount of money in her hands. Beatrice's head lulls back and forth, going in and out of sleep before she rubs her eyes — "What?" She looks at Patrick — his brows furrow at her. "Oh, I thought you said something." Beatrice sniffles, they go back to Patrick's apartment.

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Patrick makes Christie bathe herself — in fact he goes into the bathroom and gives her some champagne and watches her bathe. Beatrice stayed in the living room — she felt dead, Patrick had given her the task to call a blonde hooker for him and Christie. He seemed to not want to involve her in whatever he was going to do. A knock came from the door a few minutes later and Patrick was the one that answered — the woman was significantly older than Christie and she was more of a dirty blonde — it made Patrick a bit disappointed. Beatrice looked over and saw that the woman was a bit confused as she saw her and Christie who had just walked out in a robe with the champagne flute in hand. Patrick smiled at her, "My names Paul Allen. Your name is Sabrina, okay?"

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