An infantile one-act play by the Virginia Tech murderer.
I'm ambivalent about referring creative writing students to counseling when they turn in disturbing material. Still, it can't be denied that people who harbor a certain kind of potentially explosive resentment sometimes produce these weird little blasts of fiction that are at once aggrieved, pathological, and utterly incompetent.
"Richard McBeef" reminds me of a staggeringly terrible story that was emailed to me a long time ago by a person who had somehow found me on the internet. His story depicted a future society where evil, sexy superwomen ground up the testicles of captive males (bred and used pre-castration for "service and pleasure," if I recall) and fed them to dogs, or something. Also he claimed to have slept with many women and once killed someone in a bar.
UPDATE: And Mr. Brownstone, another of Cho Seung-Hui's embarassing stabs at writing for the stage. This one's more creepily insane, actually.