In the Third Person
So it turns out that while people certainly find it a bit odd if you continually speak of yourself in the third person, they become positively unnerved if you refer to them in the third person as well... 'cause apparently that's the way psychopaths talk.
Evidence: The other day Latigo Flint was feeling a mite parched and decided to visit his local Starbucks.
"Let's see now." Latigo Flint mused at the drink board when it was his turn to order.
"Okay, Latigo Flint would like the Cute Starbucks Barista to know that he will have a Mocha Chip Frappuccino."
She stared at Latigo Flint warily.
"Did the Cute Starbucks Barista not hear what Latigo Flint said?"
Her eyes traveled the room, mentally cataloging the exits.
"Hey now," Latigo Flint assured. "The Cute Starbucks Barista doesn't have to be afraid of Latigo Flint. Latigo Flint would never hurt the Cute Starbucks Barista. Latigo Flint loves the Cute Starbucks Barista."
It wasn't so much terror on her face as it was just a general, all-around desire to be anyplace other than there.
Latigo Flint leaned over the counter and extended a comforting hand.
"I don't think the Cute Starbucks Barista fully understands," Latigo Flint whispered. "The lengths to which Latigo Flint is prepared to go to see her naked."
Crap. That came out all wrong.
Latigo Flint desperately tried to retract, reassemble and clarify but it was too late, she was screaming by then and you can't stop real screams once they start. Well, you can--there are ways, but they aren't very gentlemanly. Not very gentlemanly at all. And Latigo Flint is nothing if not a gentleman.
I guess some other stuff happened after that. Latigo Flint doesn't really remember. Something to do with a sneak attack, head trauma, incapacitation and liquid fire.
Security footage shows the Assistant Manager and several burly customers quietly removing the metal housing on the cappuccino machine and beating Latigo Flint senseless with it. Followed by them duct taping his arms to his sides, lighting cans of Sterno and pouring them down the front of his shirt.
But security footage can be doctored, what with CGI and whatnot. And I'm pretty sure I'd never wet myself in public. So I don't think that's how it went down at all.
(I don't think you fully understand the lengths I'm prepared to go to see you naked.
That's a good line. I don't care what anyone says--that's a good line right there.)