What really lead to the deaths of Chad Waddell and Todd Delzinko?

Part 4

Initially, Waddell and Delzinko were in separate locales. We know this because they weren't in the same pictures. Prior to the events depicted in these photographs, Fritz guesses that Todd was probably asleep and Waddell was most likely studying. The accuracy of this information is suspect, but the lead-in to Waddell and Delzinko's last night on Earth isn't really as important as the events that took place afterwards.

Actually, it just may be vital information. With that, we turn to a friend of Chad Waddell to detail his life status.

Sheridan 'Sheridan' Sheridan: "To comprehend the multi-faceted jewel-like life and times of the many-pronged and much-maligned Chad 'The Chard' Waddell, you must immerse yourself in copious chaos and hope for help from a single soul you called your friend until he discovered you were hoarding a hog's load of so many tiny bauble you had apprehended from his home. Then you would have the first two years of Waddell-style living down, and everything after that had a natural downward tendency, mirroring the rise and decline of Richard 'Tricky Dick' Nixon, in a slightly subtle fashion. Yes?"

And, since he was exposed to Todd every single day for most of his young life, we ask Fritz Morcheeba to describe his former mentor:

"Allow me to describe a typical day. Around 2 in the afternoon, Todd would slowly begin to rise, the exact time depending on various factors, from heat saturation to the volume level of Full House, a program Todd pretended to hate but would secretly tape. When he stumbled into my living quarters, which were in the pantry, he would start to mutter incoherently about my chores for the day. Then, he would stagger to the sofa and sleep on it until around 10, at which point he would watch the news and go to bed. As long as I kept his daily pathway clean, Todd wouldn't ask me to do much more. It was quite a lifestyle, oft-imitated but never duplicated."

With that foundation in place, let's examine the status of Waddell.

So Waddell, wearing his glasses and inverted hat, left his studying to visit his friend, BJ McTaggert. They are, as demonstrated here, very good friends. You'll notice the calendar on the wall behind BJ; listed on each day is the meal that will be prepared at the local penitentiary. That day the meal was beef stroganoff. Waddell and BJ met at the prison, during Waddell's stay for attempting to secede the gas station he worked at from the United States. After a three hour stand-off, Waddell surrendered for a bag of Cheetos.

You'll notice the bunk beds in the background. Initially, DDI believed that Waddell possibly fell off the top bunk and incapacitated himself, but further photographs disproved this course of events. However, we do know for certain that that night, BJ had a bad dream about being eaten by beef stroganoff and had to be committed. We sent proofreader Jackson Blaine to get the story.

When DDI needs somebody to TCB (take care of business), they call for the MB (Master Blaster) Jackson Blaine. People don't realize how demanding being a proofreader is and how prepared it makes you for any other occupation whatsoever, so when I was told I had to go talk to a crazy person it didn't bother me a bit. I was ready. I was AG (all good).

I headed up to Rosy Oats Home for the Culinary Insane. After I convinced the atendant I was BJ's dad, he lead me into a cheerfully decorated meeting area, under strict supervision of an overweight guard with a can of pepper spray. Fabled reformatory chef BJ Mctaggert seated himself across the table from me. After IEF (inspecting every facet) of BJ's appearance, I lit a cigarette and flicked it at him.

BJ was clad in a light cotton pajama bottom and stained tank top shirt. His short hair was splayed across his forehead with a greasy flourish. The cigarette bounced off his left cheekbone and landed in his lap. BJ didn't BE (bat an eye).

"Hello, son," I said for cover. "What do you know about Chad Waddell?"

After a few hesitant breaths, McTaggert began to speak. The words spilled out of his mouth quickly and breathlessly, almost too fast for an EP (experienced proofreader) to get them all down. "Chad Chad Chad Chad had a little pot of coal and he wondered where he could keep his good old coal and there happened to be a big pot of soup and when he dumped the coal in the soup it became a goop and it started to snap at him with large, angry jaws full of chicken bone teeth and poor old Chad ran away with a frightful yelp but it was too late and the coal goulash grabbed him by his trousers and threw him into the ocean!"

With that, BJ's monologue came to a halt and he lapsed into silence. I poked and prodded at his knowledge of the past with a wide variety of questions to see if I could elicit a response. NWF (none was forthcoming). Anger began to seize at my brain, and I welcomed it. With a primal bellow, I leapt across the table and threw BJ from his chair. He landed, hard, against the reinforced plexiglass, splattering the floor in front of him with spittle and blood. The security guard struggled to open the door, but he was only human and I had transcended all physical limitations, becoming a fusion of beast and man.

My curled hands snatched BJ from the ground effortlessly and I hurled him onto the table. I roared my demands, "Tell m more about Chad Waddell and leave out all the stupid stuff about the coal souffle!" but BJ didn't answer as I leapt atop him, shattering the table.

The guard got in and pepper sprayed me, but I continued to lash out until several orderlies dragged me away and fed me tranquilizers. Apparently, they became convinced that I was the crazy one and they locked me away and let him out, so I'm sending this from Room 22 at Rosy Oats Home. Please send Jimmy House to get me out.

So there's one inconclusive photograph. Thankfully, taken together they weave a tapestry.

Here is another photo of Waddell and some guy. We can't identify the second man because he is covering his face. We think it might be expresident Jimmy Carter. Who knows anymore?

Now we touch on Delzinko, who, as we know, spent all of his time buzzed on caffeine pills. Keep in mind that this is still prior to Waddell and Todd meeting up for one last mortal happening.

Above, you can discern every girls' worst nightmare. we won't cover it in detail due to possible offense among our sensitive viewers, but you will be quite happy to know that the victim of Todd Delzinko's slimy, animal-like touch went on to lead a productive, happy life. Maybe. We don't know who it is.

However, drunken Todd staggered elsewhere, met up with study-exhausted Waddell, and ended up dead. For the big, fatal finale, move to Part 5, which coincides with the the Spanish piece of five, which pirates always stole and killed people for. Hence, the remarkable symbolism.