Jump 430: Friday the 13th

Jump #430: Friday the 13th
>Knight of Swords: A merciless and skillful warrior, unfettered by emotion or conscience.
>Age: 20
>Location: Camp Crystal Lake, 1979
Why, this looks like a fine place to pitch a tent- are those twins? Yes? I now wish to double my entendre.
>Identity: Drop-In
>Drawbacks: (+200) He's Back
Argh, I hate slasher flicks. No matter what happens, somehow the villain reappears.
>Common Sense (Free, Drop-In)
Common sense is anything but.
>Lucky (1000, Drop-In)
I'd rather be lucky than good. You could be good but not good enough, but if you're lucky enough...
>Deader Than Dead (700, Drop-In)
Except for external forces, at least lightning won't strike Jason's grave.
>PTSD Proof (600)
Pretty sure I already have my bases covered here, but it never hurts to have this after ten years as a murderous giant planet.
>Trapper (500)
Eh, knowledge of the sorts of traps that prove effective in this world would be helpful, certainly.
>Research Facility (300, Drop-In)
Well, this makes for a nice R&D facility for the folks from CruxCorp to occupy.
>Companion Import (0)
"Who feels like going camping?!" "oh fuck he's got the axe-crazy grin." "You ARE allowed to say no, guys."

>Ch-ch-ch, ah-ah-ah...
"What."
>Ch-ch-ch, ah-ah-ah...
"No. No no no."
>Ch-ch-ch...
"GOD DAMN IT."
>Ah-ah-ah...
"JASON YOU PRUDE, HAVE SOME RESPECT- ow. Ow. Motherfucker."
>"OHMYGOD WHAT IS THAT?!"
"A machete in my spleen, apparently."
>"Wait. What?" "Ohmygod, how are you so calm?!"
"Excuse me a moment, ladies. Jason, right?"
>"..."
"Here, this is yours."
>"Oh Jesus!" "Ohmigawd, I think you need a hospital."
"TWINS THEY WERE."
>"Let's get out of here-" "But he just totally-"
"Now you sit down and think about what you did, young man."
>"Did that really just happen?"
"No, regretfully, we never got past second base and the stabbing ruined the mood. Obliviate!"

Every time. EVERY time I let down my guard. For TEN YEARS. A goddamn machete in my spleen. And no matter what I did to Jason - freeze him solid, throw him into the sun, exile him to a pocket dimension, transfigure him into a five dimensional object that tied itself in knots - he'd keep showing up, and announce his presence by shoving a machete in my spleen.

Mother fucker.