From our official Commenter Executioner, Jack Ketch: See the title? Get it? Because it's Friday the 13th and now you are dead! I was going to start this post with a history of Friday the 13th, why it's considered unlucky, and what a typical English Friday the 13th consisted of in my time. But then I realized I don't know anything about this day, and have been living here in the future for so long that I'm basically a lazy, ignorant, and slovenly American by this point. I can't even be bothered to write my posts in old timey English. I'll probably have to execute myself soon. So, it's Friday the 13th, which is bad if bad things happen to you today. Look both ways before crossing the street, don't stand near out of order elevator shafts, and make sure to wear your hat really low if you go wilding. They have cameras everywhere now. Fucking cameras. Let us jump, and please be careful not to slip, to the fun part.

Executed: Fishman
Crime: WARNING UNFUNNY INSANE SEXISTS: NO ONE LIKES YOU

Executed: Lothario
Crime: Cuntishness

Executed: In Other News...
Crime:

JACK KETCH: Hello, In Other News...

IN OTHER NEWS...: Oh my! Um, hello. I didn't notice you there. I was just writing another excessively long dialogue exchange for Gawker.

JK: I don't think that will be necessary.

ION: Why not?

JK: Because you're dead.

ION: I am? I don't feel dead. I feel...pretty.

JK: and witty? You aren't.

ION: Some people seem to like my really really long and kind of repetitive one note joke dialogue comments.

JK: That's nice. I find them bothersome. Want to write one act plays? Get a blog.

ION: I have one! It's&mdash

JK: I don't care. You're dead.

ION: Wait! Is this like one of those joke executions where I get to come back in two hours?

JK: I should fucking hope not.

Fin
 (Thank God)
Please direct all whining to gawkerexecutioner@gmail.com. Or whatever Conbon's email address is.