Final Girl and Killer struggle. She grabs the knife and…
“Wait!” she screams.
Killer pauses, removes his mask.
“Aren’t you… bored?”
“Well…” Killer squints. “Wasn’t jazzed about you killing me. Again.”
“Cheerleader. Jock. Nerd. You kill them.… I kill you… over and over. Monotonous archetypes trapped in slasher Purgatory! I’m this damsel turned vigilante…” She strokes the knife, searching herself in its reflection. “Never who I really am.”
Killer smirks. “Got an idea…” He walks off set.
“CUT!” Director yells.
Killer drags Writer in by the collar.
“Be yourself,” Killer says.
Final Girl’s eyes gleam. She raises the knife.
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