They prefer the dark corners in a theatre
Places adjacent to a snack bar
But close enough to the exit
Because killers on strings
Always eat on the run

They're sown from a different cloth
Brains made of the same
Course material
As flailing arms and legs
To form one disturbing pattern

They make such good liquidators
For their eyes are dead
Their heart lifeless and unbeaten
Their long fingers perfect
For a bit of good-natured strangulation

Never mind though
We must first tip our hats
To those who truly pull the strings
Hosting kid puppet shows by day
Hiring out cute cuddly fiends after hours