Talk:Arsonist/@comment-50.105.99.181-20180425071721

Once the night came, his fun began. He walked slowly and proudly through the roads of lamp-lit Salem, with a puff in his chest and a spring in his step. He is the one who visits other houses, brandishing a gas can, and douses the gasoline on them, whistling nonchalantly. The only thing you hear from him is a satisfied sigh once his can becomes empty.

Apparently, it's a dog whistle.