Let's be a true crime show!

I'm Keith Morrison's narration: "Dan Garrison stumbled upon a grisly scene that misty September morning in Maple Grove, the kind when the air hangs suspended, when school children gather at bus stops, when spouses kiss each other hastily before rushing off to work; when summer's ghost still lingers. Not the type of morning that murder usually comes wafting into the neighborhood."

I’m the homicide detective. I’ll note to the camera that nine times out of ten, when a wife and children are slaughtered in a grisly manner suggesting crazed Manson-like assassins on a killing spree, and the husband survives, he’s the killer. “Did anyone see you at the gym?” I’ll ask.

I'm the grainy home movie showing 1) victim at age seven opening presents at Christmas and 2) victim at age sixteen cheering at a high school basketball game.

While I'm being shown, my sister/cousin/best friend from college will say in a voice over, "You just liked her the very moment you met her."

I'm the mother who still bothers the retired police detective 15 years after the crime!

I’m the partially degraded DNA sample that points to a suspect who was already eliminated from enquiries. People will say why didn’t they check me before but the technology wasn’t around when I was new. Miscreants watching are now desperately trying to remember if they left any tell tales behind.

I’m the producer behind the camera. An empathy-devoid, emotional strip-miner.

How did it make you feel when he set fire to your trailer? It must really hurt to watch your home burn to the ground - a nice trailer like yours. Somebody told me your cat was in there. That's sad, isn't it? Now you'll never see her again. You'll never see your cat or your shoes or your mother's boyfriend ever again. Can you tell me how that makes you feel inside?

I'm the one-in-thirty-two-trillion chance that the DNA belongs to anyone except the defendant.

I'm the neighbor. I dog-whistle-it-up by saying, "This type of crime never happens in MY neighborhood!"

I'm the mistress. I met Dan Garrison at the office. It started with casual conversations, then private lunches, and before I knew it we were spending weekends together. Dan made me feel young and beautiful again.

I will finally confess to the affair after repeated questioning from police.

I'm the smell of bleach. I'm overpowering to the detectives who walk into the bedroom.

I'm the notches in the kitchen doorframe that show the ages and heights of the young children as they grow up and mature into adulthood. Oops, well, partially. The camera will pan over me slowly while heartbreaking music plays and possibly a cameo of my face appears next to it.

I'm the feisty defense attorney. I'm a real character.

I'm the vindictive D.A. who envies Garrison his jutting jaw and trim waistline, and is out for blood.

I'm Dan Garrison's changing story when he's caught on the Walmart security tape buying duct take, trash bags, and a shovel the day before the murders.

I'm Lisa Garrison's $1,000,000 life insurance policy, purchased six months before the murders.

I'm the kids who in the end support the father. Because where else are going to go, emotionally and financially?

I'm the black screen and white text at the end of the episode. I read, "Dan Garrison is serving two consecutive life sentences at the Omaha Correctional Center. He will be eligible for parole in 2052."

I am......

succinylcholine

I’m Stan Harrison, arrested across town for distributing narcotics. Jailhouse rumors say the cartel had put a contract out on me just days before the Garrison murders. The cartel is ruthless and often takes out entire families. Could this be a tragic case of mistaken identity?

I am.......

the moulages

I'm the jailhouse snitch.

bump

I'm the husband's young overweight assistant/BFF who babysits his now-motherless tykes. I alibi Daddy.

I'm the much hotter actress portraying a woman who in real life looks like a dumpy frau.

I'm the host with street cred, being the survivor of crime against my family.

I'm the commercials for security systems.

I'm the confused elder viewer, thinking I'm watching "Untold Stories of the ER."

I'm Lisa Garrison's best friend, whose first words are "When Lisa met Dan, we all really liked him! He seemed like a catch ... "

I'm the phrase "she lit up a room" and and a story about Lisa volunteering to take a special needs student to prom AND the after party.

I'm the elderly female relative, chins aquiver, who says " ... and the minute I heard it, I turned to my husband and said, 'Well, Dan finally did it.'"

I’m the glass from the window pane of the back door. I’m on the outside of the house. The host will note that if it really was a break in (as Dan is insisting) the glass would be on the inside.

dum dum. dum dum. dum dum.

I'm Dan's denied request for a new trial.

I'm Dan's fake crying during his jailhouse interview with Dateline.

I'm Keith Morrison's face reacting to r32:

I'm the grainy footage of the police interrogation of Misty Kerrigan, Dan's mistress.

I'm the bright red Ogilvie perm on 911 dispatcher, Carol Marshall, shown in the dramatization as she shakes her head in disbelief.

I'm the same file footage shown in every other true crime show of the grey reel-to-reel while audio and text of Dan's 911 call are played.

I'm the crusty medical examiner, who's been doing this for 35 years, but "I've never seen a victim with injuries like this".

I'm the reenactment of a murder that happened in 1973, but done with actors with present day hairstyles and clothes, as well as current day cars and furniture, because the producers are too broke to be able to afford historically accurate period details.

R1=Bill Hader

I’m the one photo that the producers were able to find of the victim and I’m repeatedly showed during the duration of the episode.

I'm the frau co-worker who claims Misty once said "If anything happens to me it will be because of Dan." I swear I won't stop until Dan Garrison is behind bars.

I'm the poor-quality footage of the victim, at age 16, winning a beauty pageant.

I'm production values that look like they're barely a step up from public access TV.

I'm the pithy musings of Miss Candice DeLong.

I am a soul-killing, half-empty strip mall. Viewers recoil when I play my horrid role in this sordid affair.

I am the Shriners hospital commercial breaks where we watched Alec go from 4 to 14 in 18 months

Another true crime

I'm the young trash whore crying after finally being charged awaiting trial in prison. I'm probably from Florida.

I'm the real pics of the victims who aren't nearly as good looking as the Z-list actors.

r4, I love you. DL snark at its finest.

I'm the unrealistic suspect who just invites the FBI in without throwing a fit and who remembers every single detail of spending some meaningless lunch with the victim 4 year ago, up to the minutes he/she left.

I'm the ineloquent attorneys in real footage of the trial. My verbiage and pacing sucks. TV police procedurals need to cut the crap and stop portraying attorneys like Shakespearean scholars.

I'm a national park. White guys who murder their wives love me.

I’m the Datalounger who while watching the show exclaims, “Dan is guilty as sin but he has BDF. I want him deeply inside me now!”

I'm the drunk on the set.

I’m not letting my husband watch this as I don’r want him getting any ideas.

That being said, we are both available for the made for TV movie that surely will be in the works. Our kids too.

I'm one of the rare episodes where the culprit turned out to be someone other than the husband/wife/boyfriend/girlfriend/significant other.

I’m Pastor Davey Blackburn and Dan was at the gym with me when these horrific murders happened.

I'm the 2nd or 3rd wife who died under similar circumstances. some guys have the worst luck.

I'm the hired hitman. I always turn out to be a snitching ass bitch.

I'm the main suspect's alibi, first referenced at 10:11 p.m., but revisited and completely decimated at 10:47.

I'm the family dog. I look at the camera, then up at Dan, then back at the camera with a look that says, "THIS motherfucker....."

Alright! Alright! I confess!

She voted for Hillary. What was I supposed to do?

Presidential pardon for Dan.

He’s a good man.

I'm the Luminol, that glows bright blue and shows the horrific blood splatter that was cleaned up by the "grieving spouse" before the cops showed up.

I'm the fug best friend. I may be fat. I may be single. But I'm alive.

I'm the divorce that never gets discussed. Instead, there's one party that decides that murder is a better option.

I'm the child rapist/murderer whose only answer to "why did you do it?" is "I don't know!". (Sorry to get so dark, but those guys bother me with their bullshit excuses)

No thanks, those “reality” shitshows are ridiculous

Why Dan wouldn't hurt a fly. I honestly never saw him lose his temper, except for that one time.

I'm the "Law and Order" episode of the crime, guest-starring an unemployed Broadway actor as the red-herring suspect.

I'm the primary suspect who's interviewed throughout the show, shown only in extremely closeup shots, so as not to show that they're in a prison cell, wearing an orange jumpsuit, when they're trying to not reveal the verdict until the very end.

I'm the pathetic frau who marries the convicted murderer in prison. Straight women are desperate as fuck.

I'm the air conditioner set on high, in an effort by a delusional murderer to slow down the decomposition and thus throw police off with regard to the time of death. But despite my self-perceived ingenuity, they'll figure it out. They always figure it out.

I’m the unknown actor portraying one of the principles who bears little if any resemblance to the said principle.

I'm the anti-feminist. You see what happens when you let bitches run afoul in divorce court. They get murdered.

I'm the shirtless pic of the suspect/husband from back when he was way younger and hotter. The producers found me so they're going to keep offering quick glimpses of me in the promo to lure in the hausfraus and Dataloungers.

I'm the defense attorney who complains about incompetent law enforcement investigations.

I'm a Disneyland of mental problems.....

I'm the weird sexual fetish a la a tranny named Lana.

An awful lot of you are just describing things that Pastor Davey did!

I'm DL. When Dan Garrison's case hits the news, I will spend 90% of the subsequent thread discussing Dan's hotness.

I'm the MLM scheme.

I'm Alex Trebek breaking in every six minutes with that same damn Colonial Penn "Three P's" commercial.