[ WP ] Bob Ross was actually a serial killer that painted where he buried his victims . His paintings are becoming suspicious and the body count is rising .

The Other One 
 
 `` And welcome, to the Joy of Painting'' the words form the same as they do every week since he started filming; as thick and wet as the paint on his palette. They are true words, spoken sincerely by One who has seen less joyous times and lived to remember them, only to be awoken at night by echoes of the past. He knows this is the only way to keep The Other One at bay. Paint. 
 
 Bob's experience in the military was fairly typical on the surface. He did n't really enjoy the medical records tech job he got when he first enlisted, but knew it gave him the opportunity to scrub certain details out of his own file, had they been noted during intake. 
 
 `` We're going to run the colors across the bottom of the screen so you can follow along with us. Now I've already...'' By rote, the show goes on while Bob remembers why he's here... 
 
 Rising to the rank of master sergeant gave him the opportunity to work in Alaska. Initially he was thrilled. `` Finally,'' he thought `` it wo n't happen there, it'll be a fresh start.'' Upon arrival, he realized that he'd made a bad, bad decision. He could feel the vast openness of the land, how wild it could be, and regarded his new outlook the way any hostage does; with terror. 
 
 Oftentimes people think they hear someone calling their name, only to turn and find no one there. Sometimes it can be a whisper and you look over your shoulder to find.... nothing. Maybe a glimpse of a shadow flickering looks like something it's not. We all experience this. 
 
 What Bob was facing was far more than flitting shadows and whispered names... Too afraid to give it a name, he just thought of it as `` the other one''. Throughout Bob's life It had been there, at first as a secret companion, then as a persuasive friend. Eventually though, It showed itself to be far more dangerous than Bob could have ever imagined. 
 
 `` Now remember this side of the mountain is always dark, because the light is coming from the other side, so try to keep that side a little darker than the other. Whoosh, here's another one.'' As the image is born, he is sucked back to the first time he saw this place... 
 
 With Alaska came more and more Happenings. The Other One would jump in the driver's seat and off they'd go. Bob became a legend. No one could drink more, spit farther, shoot straighter or fight harder than Bob. He was the life of the party. At night that is. 
 
 During the day he was reserved. If you approached him he'd engage, but for the most part he was there to do his job and go home. The contrast between the two personas was stark, and at first people were put off by it, but as Bob came out more they figured `` that's just Bob, he's a party animal, but he's got his shit together''. Oh how little they knew. 
 
 `` Let's pull some phthalo blue in to this navy. Navy is aaalmost black, so bringing some of this bright, happy phthalo in will lighten him up.'' Blending with the knife he can almost forget. Almost... 
 
 Soon Bob started taking the passenger seat more often than he was driving. He became resigned to leaving control to The Other One. He'd tried to fight before, once, and ended up losing part of his left index finger as a lesson. It had hurt for years, even after it appeared to be healed, but maybe it was the memory of watching himself cut off his own finger that really hurt so long. 
 
 In Alaska Bob's reputation grew as his antics became hijinks. At work he always got the job done right, and on time, but after work he'd either go all out with the guys or completely disappear. It was when he disappeared that people should have asked questions. 
 
 `` Why do n't we give this ridge some trees?'' As if he has a choice. `` Now pull the bottom of this treeline straight down, later we'll put a river here.'' Perfect as a picture... 
 
 Each time he disappeared, someone else did too. Alaska is a big place. People get lost. Easily explained. But the rash of disappearances stretching from the mid- to late-seventies were not strictly getting lost hiking. The Other One was responsible for those. 
 
 After 20 years of service, Bob retired. In *The Magic of Oil Painting* he'd found a kindred spirit, another one with an Other One. Mr. Alexander was able to reshape the way Bob viewed It, and he was finally able to put the horror of the past behind him by recreating the scenes where they'd taken place... painting the ugly over with snow and happy trees. 
 
 Of the 148 disappearances It was responsible for, only around 50 were ever painted. It was always winter, and if you search carefully, you can find the clues he left before his time was up. 
 
 `` Always make sure to clean your brush. We've got our odorless thinner here, dip it and just beat the heck out of it.'' He chuckles as always after this line, watching the thinner splash back toward the camera operator. `` And that, my friends, is all for today. Happy painting, and God bless.''
