You won't find anything at FAO Schwarz like Mauriello's tiny, gory crime-scene reconstructions. They look at first glance like some sort of grotesque joke--violence-drenched outsider art, maybe, or Addams Family playroom props. Blood is spattered on a little wall. A tiny telephone receiver dangles off a hook. A red car idles in the closed garage, wisps of fiberglass exhaust curling out from the tailpipe. And, of course, there are bodies--on the garage floor, face up on the kitchen linoleum, slumped on a bloodstained carpet, tucked into bed with a Bible, a gun and a bullet between the eyes.