The metallic, buzzing sound of a chainsaw about to butcher us to death would probably sound more terrifying if its imitation wasn't slurred. Or occasionally interrupted by a gurgle of vomit.
"Chainsaw Killer," as one of our occasional EtOHers likes to be called, can be easily identified from triage by the buzzing noise he insists on making throughout his visit.
"I'm the Chainsaw Killer bitches," he'll scream, followed by a prolonged "Bzzzzzzzzzzzz" and dramatically accompanied by flailing arms.
After a few moments he'll tire out, nod off and begin to drool. But at random moments throughout the night (ideally when some new volunteer passes by his stretcher), he'll spring upright and repeat a chorus of "I'm the Chainsaw Killer bitches... BzzzZZzzzzzZzzz."
Whether or not he'd be able to operate a real chainsaw, let alone stand up straight, is open to debate.