Did he actually kill people or was it all in his head?

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Roll for trips

>my gf asks questions like this after any movie that's even remotely open

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Yes

gook drycleaner knows

“Oh, I almost forgot,” I say, reaching into my pocket. “I wrote you a poem.” I hand her the slip of paper. “Here.” I feel sick and broken, tortured, really on the brink.

“Oh Patrick.” She smiles. “How sweet.”

“Well, you know,” I say, looking down shyly.

Bethany takes the slip of paper and unfolds it.

“Read it,” I urge enthusiastically.

She looks it over quizzically, puzzled, squinting, then she turns the page over to see if there’s anything on the back. Something in her understands it’s short and she looks back at the words written, scrawled in red, on the front of the page.

“It’s like haiku, you know?” I say. “Read it. Go on.”

She clears her throat and hesitantly begins reading, slowly, stopping often. “ ’The poor nigger on the wall. Look at him.’” She pauses and squints again at the paper, then hesitantly resumes. “ ’Look at the poor nigger. Look at the poor nigger… on… the… wall.’” She stops again, faltering, looks at me, confused, then back at the paper.

“Go on,” I say, looking around for a waiter. “Finish it.”

She clears her throat and staring steadily at the paper tries to read the rest of it in a voice below a whisper. “ ’Fuck him… Fuck the nigger on the wall…’” She falters again, then reads the last sentence, sighing. “ ’Black man… is… de… debil?’”

The couple at the next table have slowly turned to gaze over at us. The man looks aghast, the woman has an equally horrified expression on her face. I stare her down, glaring, until she looks back at her fucking salad.

“Well, Patrick,” Bethany says, clearing her throat, trying to smile, handing the paper back to me.

“Yes?” I ask. “Well?”

“I can see that”—she stops, thinking—“that your sense of… social injustice is”—she clears her throat again and looks down—“still intact.”

I take the paper back from her and slip it in my pocket and smile, still trying to keep a straight face, holding my body upright so she won’t suspect me of cringing.

He may have killed some people but not nearly as many as he thought

Oh yeah, her pussy was wet what I'm on camera?

check em boys

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mary harron says he did
bret easton ellis says he didn't

I was so disappointed when I rewatched it and understood that he was delusional most of the time

What's disappointing in that?

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Because my memory of the movie from when I watched it as a teen was that he killed a bunch of people in fun ways and got away with it because he was rich, but it turned out to be bogus

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I found some skittles in his raincoat so i am thinking he's innocent

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check em

It's not important whether or not he killed anyone, and if you care about finding "closure" by knowing definitively you completely missed the point of the book and the movie.

You guys are pathetic. I, Jeff, will show you how a real man gets doubles. Behold the doubles of Jeff! *unsheathes dubs sword* ShaaaaaaaaaaPOW!!!!

the book was something else, good read worth for the keks

check them

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hmm

Dunno OP, do you keep posting all these threads or is it all in my head?