The utensil nobody feared.

LOGLINE

Bobby escapes from a maximum-security psychiatric hospital with nothing but the clothes on his back and a plastic spork in his pocket. By morning, somebody is dead—and somehow Bobby has turned the saddest piece of disposable cutlery ever invented into his signature weapon. As bloody sporks begin appearing beside bodies across the city, a detective realizes Bobby could steal a real weapon anytime he wants, but he keeps choosing the spork for a reason. The murders aren't random: Bobby is working his way back toward the hospital cafeteria where the whole thing started.

THE STORY

No gun, no knife, no master plan—just Bobby and a plastic utensil that is literally half spoon, half fork. When the first victim turns up, the cops refuse to believe the murder weapon, the medical examiner doesn't know what to write down and another bloody spork appears before anybody can figure out the first one. Soon restaurants pull sporks from their counters, fast-food joints lock them up and schools ban them as the city becomes terrified of disposable silverware. What begins as an absurd manhunt gets considerably less funny when Bobby demonstrates that he is very, very good at killing people with something designed for mashed potatoes.

But Bobby's choice of weapon is the one part of the case nobody can explain, because knives, guns and considerably more practical instruments are everywhere—and he refuses to use any of them. A detective tracking the murders discovers the victims aren't random at all: every death connects to Bobby's years inside the hospital and to something that happened in its cafeteria. As Bobby closes in on the people responsible, the ridiculous calling card becomes something much darker—a ritual he has been repeating one victim at a time. His final destination is the place where they first handed him the weapon nobody thought could hurt anyone.

IT'S NOT A SPOON.
IT'S NOT A FORK.
IT'S MURDER.