Barney had to die. It wasn't figurative speech, brought on by the sadistic young minds that couldn't handle the big, purple dinosaur's cheerful disposition; Barney really did have to die. I, Lieutenant James Collette, knew this, the American government knew this; the only people that didn't know were the general public, and they were the ones most at risk. I was placed on this assignment two years ago, when we first started realizing that the children's idol was not who he appeared to be, and I've dedicated myself to the project ever since then. In the time it took to get here, I've lost much. My home, my family, the love of my wife, Carla. But all of it is worth the opportunity cost, which would surely by a great deal worse than the loneliness I feel now. You see, Barney was evil. Pure evil. Evil incarnate. His kind had been around for centuries, infesting the world with their malicious spawn, and tainting children's minds with wicked malignancy, and no one, not the parents, not the government, not even the children themselves, knew it was happening to them. Subliminal messages, that's what they were. Undetectable innuendo, suggestions transmitted through the television set and into the minds of children all around the world, urging them to do evil and cruel things. No one had any clue that their beloved children's star and role model was really spreading corruption worldwide. It had begun long before television, actually. The Evil had always been around, in one form or another. From the court jesters of the days of yore, to your child's birthday entertainer dressed as a clown or some other emotionally appealing, fuzzy animal, to that suspiciously mild-looking mime who you thought was just trying to present itself artistically; the Evil was present, and it seemed that every time we even got close to catching it, it slipped through our fingers. Past government operatives like myself have tried and failed to destroy the Evil, but it just kept coming back, finding ways to exist, to infect young, impressionable minds. We tracked it here about two years ago, when all the signs had pointed in this direction and we were let on to the awful truth. The Evil was still around, it had a face, it had a voice, it even had a hit television series. I reminded myself of these grueling facts over and over again as I climbed the stairs to the top of the empty building, the worn strap of my weathered, black duffel bag slung over my shoulder. Outside, the gleeful cries of small children floated on the wind up to my ears, like the first song a deaf man hears when he regains his hearing, though with the knowledge that I carried of the world, the music was more like a stark, depressing melody that warned of horrible times to come. When I reached the top floor of the abandoned warehouse, I found the right window and walked over to it, setting the duffel bag down by my feet. You see, it is because of the entity inhabiting the big purple dinosaur called Barney that we see so much violence today. Maybe you don't believe it, or maybe you just don't want to believe it, but its true nonetheless. I hummed mutedly as I pulled the rifle from my bag and began to assemble its parts. After all was said and done, the facts, undeniably genuine, were right there in front of our faces: Barney was the source of all evil. You think you have all the peace you want. You convince yourself of this only because you know that a truly Utopian society could never exist. Well, what if it could? What if you could have that life you always wanted, where there was no hating and everyone played nice together? It could happen, but not if Barney was still around. That's why he had to be eliminated. My government-issued weapon fully assembled, I crouched before the window ledge, carefully resting it on the sill. Using the weapon's sights, I scanned the ground below until I found him. In a large, open clearing of the busy city, crowds of children had gathered to catch a sight of their favorite television personality in person. The demon itself stood up on a stage, waving cheerily to the children and smiling, though he was really no more than a deceitful, lying beast. If only parents were more attuned to what was really going on behind it all. I took a breath, steadying my shaking hands. We'd been waiting years for this window of opportunity and it was finally here, right before us. The fate of the world rested on me at that moment, and it was a breathtaking thought. I took the dinosaur in my sights, zoomed in, and waited for it to focus. A clean shot would do it. right between the eyes. None of the children standing in the crowd were in the way - the shot was perfect. I waited for the right moment to execute. waited. watched. and pulled the trigger. Like a maddened beast bursting forth from its earthly confines, the bullet sped towards the stage and found its target. One shot was all it took. There was a moment of shocked silence as the demonic creature hovered there in midair, swaying slightly, before collapsing forward with a heavy thud, crimson blood spewing forth from its head. Then all Hell broke loose. Children screaming and crying, parents running with their children's small hands in their own, crowds frantically pushing their way through the masses, searching for the safety of a building and oblivious to the fact that they, themselves, had just been saved. Quietly, methodically, I unassembled the rifle, still hot and burning in my hands, and replaced it in the bag before picking it up and walking, slowly, back the way I'd come. The deed was done, and if all went as planned, the world was rid of the horrendous Evil for good. all because of me. Only time would tell if things had really changed. No doubt there would be a rigorous investigation into the assassination of such a beloved public figure, but a killer would not be found, and in time, with no one to blame, the public would forget. As I exited the building the way I'd come in, and climbed into my jet black Mercedes, I barely gave a second thought to my actions. I did what I had to do for the safety of the public. Whether or not they were emotionally scarred was insignificant. If they knew... if they only knew, they'd understand. If they had any idea of the horrendous beast inside that big, purple dinosaur, they'd one day be able to thank me, the man who murdered Barney.