Tuesday, October 30, 2018

A Scary Story pt. 2

*Kaboom!* (The sound effect, not the sequel to Kazaam starring Bryant "Big Country" Reeves and his entourage of minions who look like the size of the minions from Despicable Me standing next to him; they barely make it halfway up his jorts.) 
"Hello, Cindy and Chad."
     The walls of the haunted house vibrate, shaking handfuls of cobwebs from the ceiling and sending them canon balling to safety, mini Tom Cruises in their mission to do the impossible; be the greatest action movie star of all time while maintaining a healthy glow thanks to modern alien science practices. (Tom Cruise has a voodoo doll of himself that he will often pinch just to make sure that he's not dreaming and won't wake up in the backseat of a 1978 Chevelle in his high school parking lot with a killer hangover, his chemistry notes scribbled on the inside of his water bottle in red Sharpie and the theme song to Happy Days playing in his soul on a loop.) Old black and white photographs including American Gothic (the one with the couple of old people with a pitchfork on a farm that looks like they just used it to stave off an invasion of zombies trying to get to the laundry hampers in the attic of their barn full of brains that came from all the people who unknowingly wandered onto their property, trespassing on their way of life and impinging on their afternoon. Other items found in the same attic of their barn include a canteen from the Vietnam War with the autograph of Uncle Sam (or perhaps it is just a masterfully forged piece of work perpetrated by some bloody Canuck with a wicked sense of humor and a penchant for penmanship), a pair of pumpkin pie-patterned socks that hasn't seen the light of day since the Reagan administration (when fun, colorful socks like these were shunned by society, leaving their wearers to forge for flip flops and other alternative footwear options in the miserably unhip pre-Croc generation) and a Hacky sack that was brutally confiscated from a hippie (via pitchfork, of course) who was frolicking in the quad of the local junior college as the couple took their weekly stroll through campus to patch up their collective constitution.) 
"Whattttt? Who is it?! How do you know our names? Stop stalking our lives! Show yourself!"
     Chad shouted out at the structure, leaping in front of the metaphorical bullet that was being hurled at his lady and raising his fist to the heavens to signify that he will take up arms if need be (his own two arms, that is.) His ankles trembled in his boat shoes, though, while he tried his darndest to stand up to a metaphysical ghoul because you can't just let a metaphysical ghoul walk all over you, then they will think they can just up and take your soul to Trader Joe's whenever they feel like it because metaphysical ghouls like riding in the carpool lane and assorted cashews that are coated in yogurt, macadamia and the shreds of the remains of their ancestors. Also, for the always intriguing Halloween sales; it's half off the heads of headless horsemen now until the end of eternity!) 
Buy Chris's books SPONGE CAKE & WHAT'S IN THE FRIDGE? on Amazon 

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