Saturday, July 30, 2016

STORY # 20 FAT SLOB

This prompt was to write a diary entry of some sort or a fictionalized story of an actual event of somebody going  mad, insane, psycho, you get the idea.Though this story isn't written as a diary entry there is however, a diary involved. It's just the way it all turned out.


 FAT SLOB


Nobody would've ever thought that Bubba Hensley (Fat Slob) would've went insane that day. He was a quiet fellow, usually keeping to himself, He didn't have any hobbies that anyone was aware of nor did he ever go out to see the daylight. Whenever anybody saw him it was mostly in the late evening hours. He was about 5'7, and two hundred pounds and shaped like a bowling ball. He lived in a house with twelve cats, two dogs and his mother. His mother was eighty years old and most of the time required some assistance. Bubba was in his late fifties and had never had a job as far as anybody knew. He spent his days watching TV and staring at the yellow stained walls and cursing his mother for smoking.
He hated it when she smoked and often accused her of not caring about his health. And she usually told him to quit worrying himself over something so silly and to shrug it off and man up.
That was his father's way of handling things whenever Bubba came to him with some kind of personal matter.
Shrug if off and man up.
His father worked at an old Chrysler plant before they closed it down because they outsourced everything to Mexico and sent thousands of Hoosiers out of a job.
Things got worse pretty quick from there. The neighborhood starting deteriorating fast and crime was on the rise. People breaking into houses for food and extra cash for drugs.
Not long after that Bubba's father dropped dead from a heart attack. The doctors called it the widow maker and said he didn't stand a chance.
That happened when Bubba was only fourteen and heading into the hardest years for a teen to ever have to go through. His mothers advice wasn't cutting it.
Just have a cigarette.
And a drink. Helps take the edge off.
While you're at it change the cats water bowls and the litter boxes. They're smelling up the house and it's starting to kick my asthma. She said this as she took another puff of her Marlboro, puffing it down to the bud and lit up another.
Then another.
She had him sweeping up the floors from the dogs pee and the litter box issues was constant. The cats would sit and look at him as if they were making fun and like he was the nobody and they were the kings.
Every day around nine I the evening he'd walk down to the Village pantry and get her cigs and a case of beer. She'd spend the rest of the night drinking, smoking and cursing the day was born.
She'd call him names like fat slob and good for nothing and told him how a man his age should be out earning a living for his wife and children. She said he was too ugly to get married and no girl in her right mind would look at him, calling him a fat slob.
Bubba took it the abuse, day and night he took every bit of it till she ran her self down and passed out. Then the next day it would start all over again. Thank God the mornings were slow times because she had to recover and once her headache subsided she was back at him again.
Bubba was so stressed out he seemed to only get relief from eating. Food had the way of soothing him. The only problem with that was that all the stress didn't help his metabolism.
His mother would scream at him so loud the neighbors could hear her. And they thought what a filthy mouth that old woman has and how it was such a shame she talks to her son that way. But, nobody could anything about it. The only person that could was Bubba.
And he did it on that night. Mother had gotten herself in one of her moods and was ragging on him more than ever.
She'd hit him with her cane like he were a dog.
That night he had a surprise for her. It just so happened that on that very day, on that morning he woke he made the decision that he was going to fix this problem of his. He told himself that if she says one more nasty word to him he is going to kill her.
And she did. She was more ruthless than ever, using words that would make a sailor blush.
He went in his room and seconds later came out with an AK 47. An amazing assault weapon. Nobody knew he even had a such a thing. He sure did surprise a lot of people that night.
She was smoking on the couch and looked at him like he were some kind of blubbering fool. What are you doing with that thing? Put that away before you kill somebody.
Her mouth widened when he pointed the gun at her and pulled the trigger before she could get another nasty word out. Put a bullet right between her eyes and she went down like a dead log. She reached out to grab her walker but it slipped out of her fingers as she tumbled to the floor.
He pumped another bullet.
Then another.
Blood spraying all over the floor,
Take that mother. How you like it now mother. Do you feel better mother?
Unfortunately it didn't stop there. If it had everybody in the neighborhood would've understood a bit. It didn't mean that it was right what he did but it was understandable.
What wasn't understandable was when he ran outside firing his AK 47 down the street and shooting at cars and the houses across the street. Folks peeking out their windows to see what was going on and ducked back inside their shell.
Of course it didn't take long for the police to arrive and when they did they were met with gunfire and one of the officers lost his life. Now, we see cars driving around with little stickers in the corners of the windows 'in memory of'.
Fortunately, the police being far better shots took him down. That blood spot is still there to this day on that neighborhood street. Folks can't help but think back about that night Fat slob lost it.
There wasn't much of a need for an investigation after that point. The detectives went looking for a motive behind his horrid actions. Turned out fat slob had a whole closet full of special weapons, automatics, rifles,grenades. It was pretty obvious he was prepping to go to war on the neighborhood. Everybody were saying wow that sure could've been a disaster even more so than it was.
They did find a diary in his drawer. He had been recording all the fights he and his mother had gotten into.
He wrote about how he was going to kill her.
And how he was going to do it.
He wrote about blowing up the neighborhood one day cause that was his dream.
He wrote about how he heard all the whispering behind his back and how nobody understood anything. This had been written in the diary several times over in various places.
He wrote about his best friend. And the detective reading all this thought wow he had a best friend?
Names of people he didn't like or had said something been to him were written on a list on the first page of the book. Everybody in the neighborhood was written on that list. Except for a young boy who'd friended him which had been dead for six years. The boy's name was Riley, and he was always playing with fat slob and it was probably the only time anybody ever saw him out in his front yard laughing,
But Riley wasn't going to be around long and he knew it. He had been born with some kind of cancer and lost the battle six months after his sixth birthday. You wouldn't know know it bay talking to him to though. He was a happy go lucky kid full of spit and spirit. The kind who makes everybody laugh when he's around. He lived his life to the fullest for such a young child. It was then fat slob tucked himself away in his shell and hardly ever went outside except at night to make the run for his mother.
A lot of people were thinking that if the boy was still alive to this day none of this would've ever happened.

Perhaps it was the boy keeping him sane preventing him from flipping out. But nobody will ever know that now.

Thursday, July 28, 2016

Story #19 There's a man on that street that eats the neighborhood children

This prompt was to write a story about what a cannibal's dinner would taste like. It took me a while to work up to it in this story but it ended up working out. As I was writing I was looking outside watching the kids playing ball in the street and I thought what would happen if a cannibal lived just a couple houses down from me. This is probably one of my darkest and not so nice pieces and I think it has a lot to do with the way things are today. These days you can't really let kids play outside like we by themselves because of this very thing.



THERE'S A MAN ON THAT STREET THAT EATS
THE NEIGHBORHOOD CHILDREN




That man down that street eats children. Of course all this wasn't discovered till later till after it was all done. You wouldn't know it though. He was a quiet guy, lived there in that large house by himself taking care of his mother till she passed away from cancer just two months ago. On the appearance side he was short, shaped like an egg and had long oily hair that he seemed to never comb. He walked with a limp in his right leg. 
Just a typical guy in a small town neighborhood doing what folks in the neighborhoods do.
Cut the grass
wash his car
And sat in his garage in the evenings drinking Pabst Blue Ribbon beer cause that's the greatest all American evening.
As far as anybody knew he never worked. Most just figured he was on disability. By nature he was friendly but one kept their distance when carrying on conversation with him because his body expelled some foul odor like mildew from a crawlspace.
Most felt sorry for him when they saw him trying to cut his grass and keep up with the yard work and take care of his dying mother at the same time. Wasn't unusual to see the ambulance in front of the house at least twice a week and he was always making frequent trips to the hospital.
It's not easy taking care of somebody who is dying.
Police were always stopping by too. Most just thought they were checking up on him because of his situation and all.
Turned out the police were checking on more than that. A
A boy went missing in the neighborhood and it wasn't the first one either. None of the bodies were ever found
Police started asking him questions. Then they started talking to the neighbors asking questions about him. Of course everybody said they don't know much about him other than the fact his mother was so sick and how he seems to be having a hard time making ends meet but overall seems like a pretty jolly fellow.
The police would nod their heads as they took all this in,
At night cop cars would sit by the side of the road on the other side of the block around the corner where they got a good view of a few of the houses because of a large field.
Everybody knew something wasn't right and right away talk was going on about some kind of killer in the neighborhood that killed that boy. And as usual people started pointed fingers.
It's that guy, not talking about the same one but somebody different. I know it's him he's always snooping around and looking out his window.
Somebody else would point a finger at somebody completely different and say no it's this guy because he's always coming home late,
Then there was this one man, an older man in his sixties who liked to play ball with the children and all the children came to him asking if he could pitch because that old man was a big baseball fan. One time a girl joined in on their group only to kept a close watch on by her mother. And the girl would be called back to her mother five to ten times and they had to stop the game every time so she could run across the street and talk. The mother asked the girl if that old man had touched her on her private parts.
No the girl said.
If he does you come along and tell me okay,
Yes mom.
And watch out for those other boys too,
Yes mom.
Yeah, he was accused by the neighborhood. But everybody had it wrong. They had it all completely wrong. And it proved to people that things are not what they appear or neither are people when they really found the truth.
From that moment on that old man got some pretty weird looks from the neighborhood. Snobby-bodies who had nothing else to do like going to a real job partook in gossip had a lot to say about the poor ole man. They talked and made comments behind his back. If those snobby women would've been the jury the old man would've hung for sure.
Things had settled down within a year and all went about their business as usual that was till a little girl went missing. She went out to play for the afternoon and when her mother went to look for her she was no where to be found.
All the neighborhood gathered around to search for the little girl, Even the man that ate the children. If only they people knew how close he really was to them.
Still they blames that ole man who didn't have a chance till cops started patrolling the streets. By then the entire neighborhood was in an uproar. People couldn't let their kids outside to play. The playground became desolate and eventually rusted away rendering the swings and round twirl unusable.
Finally that ole man got wind of what the neighborhood had been saying about him and stopped talking to people. Truth was he never would've hurt none of those kids. Kids made him happy when he was around them Later he shared how he once was married but his son had got some kind of cancer and died when he was only seven. Born with cancer, can you believe that? His wife took it so hard she went off on the deep end and shot herself in the head. Of curse nobody talked to the ole man about that. They didn't find that out till later either and did that ever put them in their place.
More and more the cops hung around asking questions going door to door but nobody had enough information on anything or about any child killer.
Apparently, the police did and came by and arrested the nice neighbor that was taking care of his mother. Wrestled him to the ground, pounded him in his back and handcuffed as they shoved him in the car.
Everybody was like what are y ou doing to that nice man. He's a good neighbor and they started bad mouthing the cops telling them they had the wrong guy and pointed their fingers to the ole man. But the ole man did the smart thing when he quit playing with the children. He did a real smart thing and kept himself locked up in his house. The police knew something about him for them to arrest that man.
Then everybody in the neighborhood talked. That poor man, He didn't deserve to be treated that way,
He does so much around the neighborhood. They have the wrong guy.
He's the nicest on the block,
he wouldn't hurt a flea.
The truth came out when the detectives searched his house and found body parts of the little kids in a freezer. They also found the head of the little boy that had gone missing way back in the fridge with the top of his head cut open and the brains gone. The truth all came out then.
Later on the news the man everybody thought was so nicey nice was confessing in front of the detectives about the murders and he talked about how he ate them and tied them up, and chopped their arms off and cut off the tops of their heads and ate their brains. He talked about how he gutted them, cut out their liver and made thin slices and fried it in a pan. He said that human liver tastes a lot like pork. He thought it would taste like chicken, Actually, the human thigh is what tastes like chicken.
He said the meat was kind of tough but it was good eats.
The neighborhood was like whoa dudes. That's some really screwed up stuff. All the while the practically ruined the ole man's reputation.
That man that ate the children was sentenced and was released after fifteen. Go figure. Of course he didn't move back to the same neighborhood. He needed a fresh start.
Five months later another child went missing. Everybody in the old neighborhood was like oh no here we go again. And all the kids were kept inside.
People had been watching him though and informed the detectives about what was going on and they wanted to try and save that lil' boy's life. Thanks to one of the neighbors who had been following his story recognized the man right away and because the child killer had to post a letter on the window of his house stating that he participated in such acts. That didn't set well with anybody to begin with and quickly drew up a red flag. , Now, had that man decided not to take that lil' boy he probably would've gotten away with everything on count of the laws. Thank God people had been watching.
And they'd been watching him watching that boy,
The way the man was licking his chops at the boy. Licking his teeth. He was a big big boy to. Not an easy catch for someone of his stature.
The was made and the police arrived as quick as a finger snap. They found the big lil' boy in the man's basement. The man was prepping the boy for a big feast.
The man was beat down again and arrested for the second time. He didn't feel any remorse for what he'd done. He didn't care about the families or their feelings and to think that in the old neighborhood where he lived people thought he was the nice guy. That really nice neighbor that would do anything for you.
The mother and father took their chubby lil' boy in their arms thankful that he didn't become dinner. They were so close to losing him that day.
As the child eater was being carted away he smiled at the mother and the chubby lil' boy and the only thing he regretted was that he didn't have enough time to cook him.


Wednesday, July 27, 2016

Prompta #18 dancing flames

This prompt was to describe a house fire from the viewpoint of a person or ghost trapped in a burning building. In this one I started with a person,no ghosts or nothing, only the secrets behind the burning walls that we never tell anybody about. Those are the real ghosts.



DANCING FLAMES



He was in trouble the second he smelt smoke. The gray cloud billowing inside his room under the door as it crept in like a ghost. What had bothered him the most was that his daughter, was in the other room.

He covered his mouth and staggered down the hall calling her name. No answer. He called again. He'd had friends of his that were in a few house fires and they said that the best best thing that they could be thankful for was that they made it out alive and well. But, in the process of it all they lost everything. Their secret stash they had tucked away in a deposit box that was said to be fire proof. The secret room where they'd grew their pot and sold it from their own shop that only a select few knew about and the neighborhood affairs going on with that wife swapping game they were hiding behind their walls. Mom sitting in her chair stitching up a hole in a pair of jeans thinking about what excuse she's gonna use tonight to get out of the house to meet her secret lover. No love involved. Just sex. And they are all okay with that cause it doesn't mean anything and it made them feel good and if it makes you feel good then it's right. While dad sits in his man cave inside the smelly garage and sucks down beers while watching sports as he thinks about all that he could've become if he applied himself so might as well drink and try to forget it all cause ain't nothing gonna happen now cause he's too old. Daughter comes home locked up and tries to keep the whole thing a secret till her belly is round as a basketball. Sonny number two is trying to keep his gay life a secret cause he knows how much his father hates that kind of thing and always wants to crack open the bible and beer and starts talking about God. The years and years of family pictures. Pretending to be smiling. Faking happiness. Smoke was rolling in heavy and now he couldn't see. What caused this? Did I leave something on the stove? Grease? Yes, he'd had a uncle that left a frying pan on the stove and it caught fire and burnt half his house down. Everywhere he turned there was smoke. Flames danced out from under the door as if they were laughing at him. He could hear them calling him names. Ha ha ha. Today's not your day pal. Good luck. The hairs on his arms sizzled and smelled of burning embers. House embers floated up into the air like fireflies escaping into the night and slowly fizzled away in the sky. A cacophony of snap crackle and popping shot out from behind the walls. The walls that once held the portraits of their family tree, The walls that held their secrets like the day they found out his daughter was pregnant. The walls that watched all their arguments. The walls that kept them cool on a hot day and warm in the winter. The walls that kept them safe from the outside world. He could hear them crying for help as they tumbled to their deaths. There were no sounds of firetrucks. Smoke getting thick inside his lungs forcing him into a coughing rage. More coughing and coughing. Walls screaming as they crashed to the floor. This was the time to cry out to god and ask for help and ask for forgiveness of his sins and that he comes out of this okay like his friends did but somehow he didn't think he was going to be so lucky as he watched the roof collapse on top of him. Because at this point there was no way there could be a god. Timbers crackling and falling smacking him in the face. In the center of the fire he saw a face. The figure picked him up and walked him through the flames. He thought right then and there he was going to die a horrible death and prepared himself for the worst. It was the feeling of his burning skin was what frightened him smelling like a BBQ pit and he thought about those times he was burning twigs and brush in the yard with his dad and he remembered how impressed he was with the flames and the they danced so free and without a care in the world and he marveled at how they could chew up something to the point it was reduced into ashes. And he thought this is what's going to happen to me. I'm going to be returned back to the earth from where I came. Where did that man go that was carrying me? Did the dancing flames get him too? The devils teeth. He watched them dancing around as if they were having their own little party, a celebration as they danced to the music of their own beat. It was his celebration. Creatures of various sizes with big teeth and razor talons poked and prodded at him. Creatures of the flames biting and clawing as claws reached out from inside the flames and snagged him by his legs and he felt him sliding across the burnt floor and the flames grew higher and higher and towered over him like a vicious creature. All around him the flames danced and whipped and laughed.  

Tuesday, July 26, 2016

Story #17

This prompt was to take a noun and put the word kills at the end and there is yout title. So I cranked this giant killer baby story out.




BABY KILLS

People running. Screaming when the giant fella crawled through town splintering houses beneath its feet, leaving a trail of poop in its wake.
Sucking whiskey from its baby bottle.
Peeing on houses and cars.
Crushing sculls and splattering brains as it whacked people with its rattle.
Bones crushing.
Bodies popping like Star-Kist Fruit Gushers at the mercy of its two front teeth.
It played with Army choppers like they were nothing but Mattel toys.
Bullets bounced off its hide like it were a steel tank.

Then it faded quickly back into the clear blue sky. A cacophony of babies crying in the clouds.

Sunday, July 24, 2016

story #16

This prompt was an interresting one and one I seemed to have a bit of a hard time with, Though, that was probably due to me thinking about it too much. I had no idea what I was going to come with on this one so I did my usual , set a timer for five minutes and started writing to see what would come out and for some reason I thought about a box of cornflakes. Then I thought, okay, how about Flesh Flakes which causes your skin to fall off and float around in the air. It's supposed to be done as some sort of news report. So here it is...




 FLESH FLAKE VIRUS


The flesh flake virus has infected millions of people across the United States by the spoonfuls.
All it takes is one spoonful and you're infected,” the man on the TV said.
The virus starts on the inside and slowly eats away at your flesh causing large chunks to fall off leaving nothing but bone. It happens when you breathe in bits of flesh flakes floating in the air. It leaves you with the symptoms of allergies,
Coughing. Sneezing, stuffy nose, chest congestion, itchy watery eyes, minor aches and pains.
Then the real pain starts.
Fingers shake, the epidermal layer of your skin pulsates and small puss bubble form that burst within a couple days leaving nothing but bone. Hisr falls out then you start coughingup your intestines and you don't want to know what happens on the other end. Let's just say it's not pertty.
(A picture is shown of a young boy with the left half of his flesh gone revealing nothing but bone and where on the right side large chunks are beginning to fall off.)
The virus eats away at you till there's nothing.
(New footage shows skeletons driving to work on a Monday morning and woman skeletons carrying purses in their arms and man skeletons carrying suitcases while walking across the busy streets in New York.)
It is only a matter of time before every one of us become walking skeletons and the virus has infected us all.
And as far as we know there are no health plans to cover this at this time.
As far as we heard the President has declared the United States under a state of severe medical emergency and wishes everybody the best of luck surviving this nasty virus.
(President waves and smiles at the cameras as he is getting in the chopper)


Saturday, July 23, 2016

UPDATE

No story to post for number 15, which would've been for yesterday. At least not yet. I do have it but I'm sending this one to get proofed and I'm submitting this one to Nightmare Magazine. A lot of times magazines consider a story published even if its on a blog so you have to be careful in that aspect.

I'll have another story up this evening so you can check back then.

Till then, read lots of good books or watch some good horror movies like ZOMBEAVERS. Yes it is a real movie as some have asked me and it is awesome. I did up a little review of it here if you scroll back a few posts.

But hey,

Thanks for following along

check with ya later

Thursday, July 21, 2016

STORY #14

This prompt has you making up rules of a game that involves hunting humans. This is my game called SPLATTER brought to you by Splitting Headache Inc. A very gruesome game. Not for the faint of heart.  HAPPY SPLATTING


 SPLATTER
BROUGHT TO YOU BY SPLITTING HEADACHE Inc.

Game rules



This game is a test of skill. It will show you just how much guts you have.
If you think you have guts then you need to try this game.
Do you have skill?
Do have the stamina?
Do you like to cheat?
Do you hate to follow rules and look for any way you can to avoid them?
Do you have anger issues?
Do you enjoy smashing things?
Or love to fight.
Do you enjoy bashing faces to a bloody pulp?
Do you get satisfaction from shooting people?
Or stabbing.
Perhaps it's chopping  (even better)
If you answer yes to any or all of these questions then this game if for you. If you answered yes to all of these questions then this game is definitely for you and you must play.
(now for the rules)
First off you have to chose a neighborhood, particularly one you do not live in. Never a good idea in case there are survivors.
Each player is to select a kill card from the stack and that will be his chosen weapon. There are a total of five weapons. An Ax. Chainsaw. Machete. Nite- Stick and a hatchet. If the player does not have the weapon he is to hunt someone down who does and kill them for it. There are no exchanging weapons.
Once a neighborhood is chosen determine a date and time you will all meet. (Hint) Night time is the best as night hides the evil ways of men.
Pick somebody in the neighborhood at random. It has to be a human. No dogs, cats or any other pets. It has to be a human. Kids are fine, there is no age limit.
Once a victim is chosen you cannot change your mind about the victim.
Designate a time keeper, The time keeper is not allowed to participate in the current round he is keeping time in. He may however opt out of the timekeeper slot only after that particular round is over. The time keeper is to set the timer for fifteen minutes.
Once the splatters are in place the time keeper will start the clock and everybody will disperse. The first one to splatter the designated victim receives 1000 points.
All players are to splatter as many people as time allows.
There is no driving.
No bicycles.
All splatters must be on foot.
The player who splats the most in the time allowed is the winner and will proceed to the next round.
There must be a total of three rounds. A different neighborhood must be chosen for each new session. The killer with the most kills in all three rounds is the winning splatter.

(Score as follows.)
Victim chosen 1000 points
Man or woman age 20-30    900 points
Man or woman 30-40          500 points
Man 50-60                          300 points
Man 60 and up                   200 points
(Extra bonus points )
kid on bicycle                    100 points
grandma on walker           3000 points (This is extremely hard to find)
Old man with cane            2000 points
Anybody on a scooter       1000 points
Have fun. Happy splatting.


STORY #13 MY GRANDPA IS A CHAINSAW MANIAC

This prompt was to write a story about an unlikely place to find a chainsaw. So this one popped up.



MY GRANDPA WAS A CHAINSAW MANIAC


I never expected to see grandpa waving his chainsaw around at the old age center. They don't like to call it an old age center for retirement folks but that's what it is. Those are the hard cold facts.
One has to keep his whits about him when you walk into a retirement center for psychos. Never know when one some old fart is going to sneak up behind you in a wheel chair and try to stab you or chop something off.
They may be weak and can barely swing. Some have lost the strength to thrust and can barely puncture your skin but they are still dangerous.
Grandpa had been there for three years now and he was always complaining. He'd become a chronic complainer ever since he'd moved in there. Guess I couldn't blame him. It's a big change after having lived on a farm for practically his entire life and having to one day pack a few things up and be driven off to retirement village.
I never liked the smell of retirement homes. Carpets smelling of must and mildew and when you walked past the rooms there was always the smell of pneumonia from pea stains and bedpans.
People on the verge of their last days moaning and groaning as their joints are in such severe pain they are praying for the sweet reward of death,
My feet sticking on my floor and squeak as I pick up some unknown substance on the bottom of my shoe and lets out with that annoying squeak as I walk down the hallway.
The more I think about it, I guess it wasn't that usual to find a chainsaw in grandpa's closet but it did catch me off guard.
I heard a loud revving sound. The sound I'd hard a thousand times before.
I thought, no way.
Surely, grandpas didn't bring his chainsaw with him.
I heard people screaming.
One old woman was hobbling down the hallway on her walker.
“What's going on?” I dared to ask.
“Some ole coot has done lost his mind,” she said.
I new that old coot she was talking about could be no other than grandpa, He just wouldn't let it go.
More people came running, more like hobbling along the best they could with their eighty year old crooked limbs and canes nd walker.
“Don't go back there!” He passed me in a wheelchair at mach speed for for a guy his age.
The revving is getting louder and louder. I hear grandpa screaming. “I go you all this time. I got you all this time.”
I walked into the recreation center. Gran pa had the entrance barricaded with wheelchairs and desks. He as in the process of cutting off the arms of some old lady.
The arm flew off and nearly hit me.
Blood splattering everywhere.
What a nasty mess.
“Grandpa!”
He stopped mid-chop.”Well. Who are you?”
I thought, here we go again. I've got to go through the entire family tree to prove we are related. This was the hard part when you're dealing with a grandpa on Alzheimer Mom and dad used to stop by and visit him but dad got tired of having to go through the whole thing again and just finally gave it up.
He said it wasn't worth it and told me not to waste too much time with him cause grandpa wasn't really the man I think he is.
Dad called him a bad man, which made me even more curious.
That goes back to the day when grandpa and I used to be tight. Real tight. Inseparable. I've always been fascinated by his chainsaw collection. He had various makes and models hanging on the walls in the barn. He explained them all to me but I couldn't remember all that. I was just impressed with his collection.
That's when he told me he was a chainsaw maniac. I remember thinking wow. Cool. I was pretty young then so I thought things like that were pretty awesome.
“You mean, like kill people and stuff?”
“Yep. I chopm' in pieces.”
Looking at the guy you wouldn't think he was ever capable of commit such horrendous acts of violence. They there's a little in all of us though and grandpa is living proof. Grandpa only stood about five foot four if that. Hardly the intimidating type. His arms were thin and seemed out of place hanging from his egg shaped frame.
He took out albums and showed me pictures of the oleo he dismembered.
I guess that would explain why dad didn't want to have much to do with him.
As I was reintroducing myself to grandpa an old woman charged down the hallway with a shotgun and started blasting.
I felt the wind on the side of my cheek from the bullet as the glass shelf beside me shattered.
The nurse was running after her trying to catch her.
At the same time running behind the nurse was a man wearing a black cape hobbling along on his cane slashing at the air with a machete,
Thankfully he was tackled down by the large male nurses, strapped in a jacket and carried away.
Meanwhile grandpa went back to business and started slicing away at people. He was in the middle of a huge fight with another who was trying to chop his head off with an axe but his arms were still too weak.
Grandpa laughed at him and called him a woos. I guess they must've known each other because I heard grandpa tell him that he never was any good at chopping people and how he should've retired his ax years ago.
Then grandpa sliced off his arm.
He jumped up on the table, holding the chainsaw high above his head, waving it Texas Chainsaw fashion while revving the motor.
Oil flying off the blade splattering on the tables. “I still got it, Sonny.”
“You sure do, grandpa.”
While he was busy getting all ego on himself a woman sliced at his leg with a knife but not with the great speed she probably once did when she was in her prime.
Behind me I hear, “There he is. There's our boy.”
I turned and saw it was Bob hobbling along with his walker. Bob and grandpa used to be neighbors. Bob was an explosive expert back in his day. When Bobby was in his prime it wasn't unusual to hear a building explode every once in a while. He sued to get the biggest kicks from that.
'How doing , Sonny?” He tossed a grenade and I watched it slowly roll toward my feet,
“Bob, you can't be dong stuff like that. Now, stop it. You're gonna kill too many people.”
“I know. Ain't it great?”
“Not when one of them is me.”
I tossed picked up the grenade and threw it through the window and it exploded in the parking lot.
“Ahhh, you always were a quick one,” Bobby said.
He had this knack for giggling in demonic ways that sent chills up my spine. “But not quick enough.”
The nurse station exploded. Apparently, he'd tossed that grenade to distract while at the same time tossed one at the nurses station.
Then I hear grandpa say. “Drat.” he always used words like that, Words that replaced curse words because he never believed in cursing.
“What's the matter, grandpa?”
“Ran outta gas.”
Alarms sounded off as five large men wearing white outfits took grandpa down.
“Take care of my chainsaw, Sonny.”
I picked it up and took it with me. The handle felt good in my hand. It wasn't a heavy one like some of the others I'd seen. It was a little smaller and much lighter. It was going to go back up on the shelf with all his others.
Things quieted down after that. Grandpa had a way about him for stirring up trouble. Every time he got a wild hair up his butt to want to cut him up somebody things would get out of control at the center.
I guess its' not too bad. He can be a hand full at times and I really wish that mom and dad would give him more attention.
The following Wednesday I went back to visit and grandpa was actually in his room this time.
I knocked n the door and entered.
He looked at me with blank expression. “Who are you?” he asked.
As usual I reintroduced myself to grandpa. Every time I did that it seemed to strike a cord with him and he would be okay with it.
On the wall were pictures of mom, dad, and my two sisters. I made a comment about how nice it was to see he had just put family pictures on the wall. I wasn't really sure just how severe his Alzheimer's was but I was surprised to see that. Either that or mom and dad stopped by.
“Nice pictures,” I said. “Did mom and dad hang those for you?”
“Who?”
“Mom and dad. You know, my parents? Bill and Deborah?”
His eyes squinted as he bit his lower lip. “I don't know any Bill or Deborah.”
“Of course you do. They're my parents. The pictures you have on the wall.”
He giggled in that demonic way again and I knew something wasn't right. “Oh the? They're my next victims.”
He sat at the edge of his bed sharpening several types of knives.
I thought then it would be best if mom and dad didn't stop by after all.


Tuesday, July 19, 2016

STORY #12 HATCHET HALL UNIVERSITY

This prompt was to write a graduation speech for a horror high. I chose Hatchet hall University for this one where only best of the best of the choppers go.


 HATCHET HALL UNIVERSITY

Good evening everybody. I am principle Hacker. I'm glad you could join us here tonight at this wonderful celebration.
You'll have to excuse me. I'm not feeling very well today. It's been a long two weeks and I've got the slasher shakes. Please just bare with me. It's not easy going for such a long time without cutting me somebody.
At the stroke of Mid-Night these fine young men, and one woman, will become graduates of the one of the finest chopping schools in the world. There is no other school like this one. In order to enter this school one must demonstrate on one of our various victims that they can chop and slice and show no remorse and prove to our instructors that they have what it takes to be a chopper. Only the coldest of the coldest pass through. This is an extremely difficult school to graduate from. Each candidate has been put through extreme rigorous training to test their chopping abilities.
We test to see how they can handle the gruesomest of the gruesome without puking. Here they learn how to really chop chop chop and learn how to yank those entrails out of her victims which such skill it would make Charles Manson look like a sissy.
They learn how to decapitate and run a series of screaming heads though a shredder.
There is also several hours of intense classroom study and endless amounts of research as they learn which hatchets work the best for each specific tasks.
Each student spends several hours in each classroom learning various chopping skills, shredding and slice and dicing.
Then there's my personal favorite, the stabbing salon where they learn a variety of stabbing techniques.
Stabbing is not a very easy thing to learn how to do. Stabbing has to be exercised with extreme caution. Our candidates here learn where to stab to in order to get that 'Oh my god what just happened to me look' on their victims faces.
Then they must participate in the stabantholon where the one who stabs the most victims on campus whens the grand prize to a cruise ship of their choice where they can run amok and stab the victims of their choice,
During training, our students are not allowed to leave campus. Bedding and meals are provided here on site.
Which brings us to our culinary classes for those not interested in becoming choppers. We have the best culinary school in the country. With the instruction of world renowned chefs our students learn how to cook up a good meal of human liver and guts.
They learn how to slice off arms and legs at the joints, marinate and slow roast.
I hold here one of the finest of all chopping instruments that is used by the best of choppers. The Fasthawk Tactical Tomahawk at just 12.5” in length. This light weight hatchet is extremely sharp and can split a skull open with very little effort on the choppers part.
Each one of our candidates will be awarded one of these fine hatchets for them to take out with them when they start their business.
Please hold your applause until after I call the names please.
Thank you.
Thank you.
Ok. That's fine.
Quiet please.
You. Yes you with the I love my slasher woman shirt. What did I just say?
I said quiet!
This is your final warning before I blow you all up.
That's better.
Now, for the candidates.
The Tortoise Murderer. This is a fine young man who came in here fully equipped to kick butt and take names. He has worked hard, studied hard and killed the most victims on campus during the competition. And he did so in the most gruesome ways.
The Ghoul. The scariest of our choppers. Likes to dress up as a woman an doesn't look half bad if I say so myself.
The whale. The heaviest of our choppers and probably the slowest but he is definitely the strongest.
The wanted Ax Murder.
Sister Scissors. Her being a nun makes for a most excellent cover which allows her to get close to her victims.
Finally, we have the fast Food Killer. Not the healthiest of our killers but he is extremely fast. Even faster than Jimmy John fast. And that is fast.
Ladies and gentlemen, I now give you the graduates of Hatchet Hall.
Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.
Now, may you all go out and chop chop chop and slice n' dice with great pride. And I wish you all the best in all your future endeavors.
Good luck
Now go out and kill some people.



Monday, July 18, 2016

STORY #11 PARTY NITE OF THE HOGMEN

This one here was to write a story about the first birthday party of a disturbing mutant.  I pity the poor scientist who made this discovery. Just goes to show, some things are better left alone.




 PARTY NITE OF THE HOGMEN


They walked on all fours. Observing them, from a distance the scientist thought they were insane.
He watched them quietly from the bushes. One wrong move and he'd be a goner. Immediately he took out his notepad and started jotting down notes about everything he saw. He could not dare to miss a thing.
What a great discovery. He couldn't wait to get back and show his friends. Soon they would have to come back here and observe more. Perhaps find a way to capture a couple and bring them back for a more intense study.
Their backs were arched up and very much resembled a large cat. He was certain that if they stood on their two legs they would be at least fifteen feet tall or more. Their hands were wide like bear paws and their fingers were elongated with large pointed talons. They were all naked and their penises were the size of a horse's rod as it swayed back and forth beneath them with their gait. There were four more cubs all together. Two boys and two girl cubs. They grunted and snorted through the dirt with their snouts as they searched for snacks.
They talked with each other, not with words but with grunts and barks. The boys wrestled and bit each others necks and stomachs. While the mama tended to her little ones.
The mama licked her cub's face as he cuddled up beside her and suckled the milk from her breasts.
They screeched and barked when they saw papa cub coming down the path. The path was a long winding trail that cut through the valley and was mostly used by hunters to hunt deer.
He imagine what they were thinking and saying to each other.
Did they think this was their forest? Did they like this area because it was moderately traveled with humans? Mostly lost ones or backpackers who didn't know any better.
He'd known they've lost at least ten of their family to the hunters. And when they saw them coming they ran as fast and as far as they could. To them, the hunters were evil creatures that moved around inside big machines. The machines were loud and scary and they were much faster than they were.
But he didn't feel any better about himself. Because what kind of man was he to observe such horrid behavior, witnessing these brutal killing of humans and yet he has yet to report anything about it. So far, this had been his greatest secret.
The creatures were exhausted of being prey.
That all changed when they grouped together in their large pack and attacked. That would teach them to come around their camp killing and taking them away.
No more! No more!
When they fought back and took a two legged beasts back to their camp they all feasted happily.
Humans were good eating and it appeared to be a real treat to catch one.
The pups jumped up and down when they saw papa carrying a body his mouth.
They grunted and barked.
They ran up to papa and licked the side of his face and licked the blood from the two legged beast.
Papa yanked the creature out of the way and snarled at the cubs to get.
Mama stood at the mouth of the den barking at her little ones.
The cubs stopped, danced around papa and the creature and ran back to mama where she licked their paws and the side their faces.
Papa sat his catch on the ground and howled. At papas command they gathered around the two legged beast.
Mama pushed the small cub to the center in front of everybody. She licked the creature's side and then nudged him with her nose.
The cub bared his teeth and tore off a huge chunk. The long entrails came out like a long bloody rope.
The other three joined in on the fun. Two on each end playing tug of war.
Boy cubs vs. girl cubs.
They tugged and tugged.
Boy cubs snarling.
While mama and papa watched the game. Smiling their rotten crooked teeth smile. The scientists noticed the teeth were long fangs and curved from under their lips like tusks.
It was like they were having a celebration of some sort with all the attention being on the youngest pup.
Finally the cord snapped and all four cubs fell on their backs.
Mama barked and motioned them to come forward.
The scientist was catching all this on his phone. This was going to go world wide. Never has anything ever been displayed like this before. What he discovered here was an entirely different race of humans but they walked and acted like animals. He had enough documentation for a series.
He watched as one of the cubs tore into the man's stomach while the mama ripped into the face with her tusks and punctured the eyeballs out. He could feel the bile in his stomach rise as he could no longer bare to watch this any longer.
But he couldn't take his eyes away. His eyes were drawn to the beasts and he was attracted to their nature.
Mama placed her snout over the eye socket.
He zoomed in and saw her Adam's apple moving and could hear the suckling s she sucked the juices from the socket.
Papa buried his snout in the lower pelvis, tearing away the man's private parts.
Nothing but a cacophony of grunts and groans filled the forest.
The scientist became so sick at the sight he had to take his eyes away so he could puke quietly in the bushes.
Where had this family come from and how long have they been here?
They had the man devoured in no time. Nothing remained but an empty bloody skeletal carcass.
They gathered and circled around the eaten carcass howling as if relishing in some sort of victory.
Yes, they were definitely having some kind of party.
Having felt he exhausted his secret visit he began to pack up his books and cameras before night fall or he would never be able to find his way back to his base camp, He vowed to return back as soon as he could.
He heard the sound of rustling leaves and grunting behind him. This disturbed him so much he shoved his belongings in his bag as fast as he could.
He shouldered the bag and turned around.
There stood another one of the creatures.
Teeth bared.
Grunting.
Twenty more of the creatures surrounded him.







Sunday, July 17, 2016

STORY #10 GORILLAS FROM OUTER SPACE

Now here is one that came out completly different. The prompt for this one was where a main character is handed a dossier that reads "the beehive murders" Now I went a long way out on this one. The beehive murders didn't interrest me but I put a character in a room in a setting with a woman walking in and handed him a stack of papers. I've always been fond of hurmourous type sci-fi stories, big bug stories and such. The more silly they are the more I like them so that is problaby why it came out the way it did.

When I sit down to write these I have no idea what I'm going ot write, I just have this prompt I go off of and allow my subconscience to do the rest, Anyway this one turned out to be one of my favorites so far becasue I like silly stories like these. You will also notice that I write a variety of different stories. You never know what your going to get.



GORILLAS FROM OUTER SPACE
Stig Martell Exterminator Extraordinaire

Susan, my helper, popped in and handed me a stack of papers “I think you're going to find this interesting.”
I found everything interesting Susan gave me. And I always love it when she pops by. It gave me another chance to get her to go out to dinner with me. She's just so quick. Never a dull moment whenever she popped into my office. And most often means that Earth is in danger. Again. Like there ain't enough going on around there.
I do mean literally pop.
I would hear this soft popping sound, turn around and there she'd be. It all had to do with her being from planet Zonith.
I thought, Slammer, the company android was going to short a fuse. His eyes wiggled back and forth as he slammed his fist on the shelf and caused all my books to tumble down.
Slammer was like Arnold Schwarzenegger times three huge, only made of metal.
I jumped. “You need to start giving us some kind of warning when you do that.”
“Oh. Forgot. Sorry.”
The stack of papers she handed me was like five inches thick. I couldn't even begin to imagine what this was all about. “What do we have here?”
“We have here a collection of strange creatures.”
“A collection?”
“Collection of what?”
“Strange creatures from outer space.”
“Now, we're getting somewhere. Everyday with you is mysterious.”
She giggled.
If it weren't for Susan I'd have no cases. My business would be down.
It's not easy finding people to help out with exterminating creatures from other planets. You think Earth has it's problems?
Dude, I got to tell ya. You haven't seen anything yet. But her planet paid me a healthy fee for them too.
I thumbed through the pages. “They're blank.”
“Forgot bout that. Sorry.” She touched them with her finger and the pages engulfed in flames. “Have to burn them first.”
“Isn't that supposed to be after we read them?”
“Not in this case.”
The pages went up in flames. “Woooa … Wooooa...” I waved over the flames attempting to put the fire out. When I saw that didn't work I dumped a pitcher of water on it and that didn't work either. There were sprinklers in the ceiling and the last thing I needed was a flood in here damaging all my computers and stuff.
“It's okay. It's doesn't burn.”
She was right. Odd but right. I waved my hand through the fire and it wasn't hot. There was no smell or burning embers floating up.
“The fire decodes the files so you can read them.”
“Dare I ask you to explain this any further.”
“You Earth folk are funny. You guys always try to reason out some sort of explanation over things. Sometimes you just have to accept things for the way they are and move on. It is what it is.”
I had to admit. She had a point.
The flames slowly went down and a half a minute later burned out.
“And there you go,” she said.
“Ahhhh. I can read this now,”
“Flying Gorillas?”
“They're heading straight for Earth. Judging by our records they are due to arrive here in two days. So we don't have much time.”
“I've never dealt with these before.”
“Vicious creatures. Extremely dangerous and very strong. Make your earth gorillas look like pansies.”
“Where do they come from?”
They originate from planet Whofuzuno but they're spreading through the galaxy very fast. The females give birth to two pups a day until they reach a hundred. As you can see they're very fast breeders.”
“Appears that way.” I was still trying to take all this in. “What planet is this again?”
“Whofuzuno.”
“Where's that?”
“Way out there. Like way way out there. Beyond a galaxy far far far away. Even farther than the Enterprise had ever traveled.”
“That is pretty far.”
“From worlds and beyond.”
There was a picture of one on the next page. It looked just a like a Planet Earth Gorilla except ten times larger. I had no idea how I was going to eradicate these guys having never dealt with them before.
“Wow. They are big.”
“Any idea how to exterminate these?”
“Just give us a second and we'll see.”
I handed the picture to Slammer and he ate it. The paper crinkled beneath his steel teeth and in two seconds he spat out the pesticide I needed to use.
Not really a pesticide but more of a repellent. One of those I.P.M. Systems. I.P.M. Is a program designed to rid pests with as least chemical as possible. By what I've seen of these creatures we need missiles or high-tech explosives.
The name of the product of choice was called. 'Doomsday' which is some sort of fogging agent that once released sends out some sort of extremely foul odor that space gorillas can't stand.
I had to admit. I did like the sound of that one. I just hoped it worked. Every once in a while some yahoo from up top will come up with some wacky idea thinking that his idea is worth million bucks and is guaranteed to work because he has a degree that states he is qualified to come up with great ideas.
Reading on through the chemical properties I saw this product of choice did not fall in that category. Apparently, Doomsday was created by the space wildlife program of Creature Critters that when dispersed releases an amount equivalent to the atomic bomb.
“Wow, that's got to be some stuff there,” I said.
Susan looked on her screen. I could sweat across her forehead. “Ahh, we have a big problem.”
“What's that?”
“The Gorillas are closer than we thought. Seems they've already entered Earth's atmosphere.”

2

She showed me her screen. Hundreds of gorillas were flying around.
Snarling.
Growling.
She cranked the volume up on her phone and I never in my life heard such vicious sounding creatures.
Two of them slammed into a U.S. Air jet tearing a huge hole in the side. One of them ripped a wing off as if it were nothing but a Mattel Toy to a toddler.
I could hear the screams of the passengers as they were being sucked out of the plane. Suit cases, bags flying out.
It was as if it were feeding time at the zoo as gorillas picked the people out of the sky, and plopped them in their mouths.
Bones crunching.
Blood spurting from under their razor sharp teeth. Crushing them in their huge hands.
A gorilla grabbed what was left of the plane as it quickly spiraled downward toward land and twisted it like an employee making an Auntie Ann's Pretzel.
She switched the angle of the screen and we saw a gorilla snacking on a satellite he had snatched down long the way.
Susan held the screen up. “If we don't do something quick these things are going to finish off your planet.”
Technically, it was not my planet any more since I left and started up my own station. Instead of working for one of Earth's big companies. I just defend it against predators.
I downed the last bit of my coffee and Slammer gulped down the last drops of his oil and we headed to the garage to the Spitfire.

3

The Spitfire was in sloppy shape. I saw the look of disgust on Susan's face.
“This place is a pig sty. Clean up much?”
“Not really. Don't have much time.”
Of course I know that looked bad when I was sitting at my desk reading a comic book when she walked in. But, I have an excuse. I'm a guy. A busy guy. And what little time I do have off I like to kick it back a bit.
I couldn't blame her for being a little disgusted. There was chip bags lying around. Soda cans scattered on the floor. Bits of tiny chips and bread crumbs between the seats.
She removed her hand from the handle as if it were hot. “Gross. There's something sticky on here.”
“Sorry bout that. Probably just cola.” I get to flying around sometimes and have to make a sharp turn and my soda spills out of the holder. Just can't seem to get one that fits perfectly in the console.
“Have any wipes?”
“I don't.” Instead I handed her a tissue.
She curled her nose as she unfolded the tissue, holding it on her finger tips. “I can't ride in here. Hard telling what kinds of germs are floating around in this place.”
“It's going to be fine.”
In order to calm her nerves a little I scooped up the lose trash and tossed it in a trash bag, I sprayed the interior down with Lysol and 409. It wasn't Mr. Clean mean type clean, But it would do. Beside, we didn't have time to waste and had to get going,
I tossed the rest of the rags in the trash, wiped the seat down and adjusted it for her. “Better?'
She bit her lower lip, and shook her head. “I guess it'll have to do.”
“Then you better hop in. We're going for a ride.”
I closed and latched the door the second she stepped inside. Just in case there was something else she thought needed done. We didn't have time to play games.
I pushed the button to open the garage door and we zoomed off at mach speed.
She nearly came out of her seat because she wasn't buckled in secure enough.
“You okay?” I asked.
“Fine. A hard take off.”
“We re in a hurry.”
She turned her screen on to get the location of the gorillas and saw they were quickly falling from the sky.

A news chopper was flying around to grab some footage and was snatched out of the air by one the gorillas. It's large hands ripped the blade clean off and swung the chopper by its tail.
The gorilla zoomed off leaving a trail of falling metal debris and spray of blood and guts in its wake.
Slammer turned his head and the lights of his eyes blinked red. “A pack of gorillas bearing 090 degrees three thousand yards and closing.
“Three thousand. That meant they're right up us.”
“Too close for me,” Susan said.
“Two thousand.”
I made my checks double checking to make sure I was fully loaded, Not really a good time to check something like that given the current circumstances but checking ten to twelve times has always been a habit of mine.
Even if we didn't have enough I could always fly off. In cases like these its always better to not start the fight and come back another day. In this case there won't be another day.
“One thousand yards.”
We could see the gorillas in the distance. A huge brown hairy cloud,
My ship shuttered and banged and Susan screamed as a gorilla landed on the windshield,
“This is so not good,” Susan said.
“We're going to be okay. I've been through several things like this before and nothing had ever took our ship. The Spitfire was everything she was meant to be. This had proven itself more true when we came across all those space sharks. Want to talk about something nasty.
The gorillas were big no doubt. And we were getting a much up close and personal look.
Its fangs were as huge as an elephants. Its hands were like a hundred pound sledgehammer as it banged repeatedly on the windshield and getting pretty ticked off cause it can't break through,
“You don't think it can break that glass do you?”
“No. Not a chance.”
“He sure looks pretty ticked off.”
“Oh, he's going to be.”
The ship shook as another gorillas slammed into the side. The next thing I knew we were in the midst of a brown cloud of gorillas.
Its teeth trying to chomp on the glass as it licked it making it harder for me to see with all the saliva.
I shifted sharp left then a jagged right turn. The gorillas was still holding on.
“Ain't going to let go that is he?” she asked.
“He's not going to have a choice.”
I increased speed and and did a loopety loop three time around and round round the ship went.
Finally the gorilla flew off.
And Susan was puking.
“You need to warn me next time you do something like that.”
“I didn't know I was going to do.”
“Well, try to think ahead next time.”
“If you want I can let you out here and you can walk.”
“Don't be a wiseguy.”
“Beside this will be over in a second.”
I zoomed away to increase the distance between us and the gorillas and pointed the bow toward them.
“Stand by, Slammer. Its showtime.”
“Standing by.”
I pressed the button to open the chemical release hatch and ignited the discharge cylinder.
“Ready... One....
The ship shuttered as a gorilla slammed into the side. Its entire head sticking through the side.
Snarling.
And came within a few inches of getting Slammer.
“Now, nobody's ever done that before.”
Susan's eyebrows rose as her head did this nervous twitch back and forth. “That's what I was talking about.”
I order Slammer to take the helm and I grabbed bat and beat the thing in the face as hard as I could until it stopped with its growling. “Now, that was a close call.”
I reassured my position.
Slammer sat up straight. “All set, Boss. We better do this now.”
The alarm went off, blinking red light alert. “Fire.”
Slammer pushed the button and a loud hissing sound echoed through the cabin as the chemical dispersed, covering the gorillas in the slimy mess.
They stopped mid-flight. Coughing, gagging. Some of them started puking. They tried rubbing their eyes to free themselves of the burning sensation. The more they rubbed the more it stung.
They started flying around aimlessly as if they were dizzy and quickly spiraled their way downward.
“I think we did it,' Boss,” Slammer said.
“I think so.”
We looked around and didn't see one live gorilla in sight. That's what I like about that stuff. One of the few products that actually live up to its name. DOOMSDAY.
I gave Susan a big kiss, with tongue and everything. I pulled her toward me so I could feel her breast on my chest. I've always wanted to do that. She is one hot looking chick. We hooted and hollered.
With the mission complete she popped out of existence as quickly as she had arrived before I had a chance to ask her out to dinner. She does this to me every time. One day I'm going to find a way to make her stay.
And once again planet Earth is saved.