"Hi, I'm darkly disturbed Dexter. Deeply, dizzily deranged, in fact.
"My schtick is that I murder scumbags with alliteration overkill -- but hey, you try living in Miami without cutting loose once in a while.
"That's a psychopath joke, by the way. 'Cutting loose.' Because I'm not just a deliciously diseased destroyer of depraved desperadoes, I'm a hoot and a half too. Deliriously delightful.
"Anyhoo, that's all in the past now. Yep, no more migraine-inducing alliteration for moi. I've had a baby, y'see, and she's lovely. Luminously, lushly, ludicrously lovely. I mean, those psycho kids my wife Rita had before we met want to play with her all the time.
"Gosh, I feel almost human. Hey, maybe all that morbid mutilating malarkey is a teensy-weensy bit immoral.
"Woah, stall the ball! There's cannibals loose in Miami! And if there's one thing that's going to stop an invasion of cannibals, it's an alliterating psychopath like devotedly dedicated defender Dexter.
"Get the knives, kids -- it's playtime.
"Did I mention that I'm a blood-spattered forensic scientist attached to the Miami Police Department, even though I can't stand the sight of blood? Irony, that is. Pay attention at the back, or I'll kill you.
"No, I'm only kidding. A jocular jester of joking japestery.
"By the way, did I mention that my psycho-freak brother has turned up, and he's even more dedicated to deviously depopulating than I am?
"Rita's freaky kids seem to like him, though.
"What's that? The cannibals? Right, yes. They want to eat me, apparently.
"Take that, cannibal-types! Boosh! Ka-blooey!!"
"Incidentally, has anyone here read that Hannibal Lecter book about the charming psychopath? No? Thank God for that. Bam! Biff!!
"Feeling peckish, cannibal types? Well, here's a side order of Dexter's divinely dispensed disingenuous DESTRUCTION!
THE DIGESTED READ, IN A LINE: I scream, you scream, we all scream for Miami Vice cream.