The school district has a horrible dropout rate.
And the county’s crime rate is awful.
We tried one of those Scared Straight programs.
That’s where you send the bad kids to visit a prison to scare them into obeying the law.
That didn’t work. It only made them worse.
So, we sent them to Hell.
We medically stopped their hearts, let them stay dead for a bit, and then revived them.
The ones who didn’t come back, we assume gladly stayed in Hell.
The ones who came back gave up their wicked ways.
For fear we’d send them back. Permanently.
The creature in the basement gathered up the remains of it’s food, piles of its shed fur, and various other materials strewn about its prison.
From these, it constructed a gory contraption, an intricate flimsy horror.
Trudging up the stairs, placing the thing at the top of the stairs, and crawling back down to its pit.
Feeding time came around, and the door to the basement opened.
A hand poked the contraption.
“Happy mother’s day,” moaned the creature.
The hand shoved the thing away, shattering it on the stairs.
Another dog carcass was tossed in, and the door slammed shut.
Her birthday was on the ninth.
Mine was on the tenth.
Waiting all day for that moment to come together.
We’d go out to the woods. in the moonlight, and share a kiss at midnight.
A gift to each other: “Happy birthday to us.”
Making it want to last forever.
But nothing lasts forever.
It passes so quickly, and then it is gone.
And, with her hand in mine, we’d walk home.
Tonight, I will walk out to the woods.
And stand where we used to stand.
Waiting for that special moment.
And it will pass in silence and tears.
See the future?
I can. I can see the future.
I can see your future.
Want to know it?
Good. Because I don’t think you want to know it.
Oh, now you want to know it?
Well, maybe I don’t want you to know it.
Maybe I’ll lie and tell you someone else’s future.
My future, you really don’t want to know.
But then, it’s kind of also yours.
After all, I’m holding the knife, and you’re on the other end of it, right?
Better hurry up and decide.
Or, maybe not.
You’ll find out about it anyway.
There are two doors at the school.
One is for the smart kids.
And one is for the rest of the kids.
Don’t call them the dumb kids, they don’t like to be called that.
And the parents don’t like that either.
Let’s call them special. The kids are special.
Even though they aren’t special.
The real special kids don’t need a door.
They can do special things.
Like walk through walls.
Or just appear in their classroom.
With a flash of light and a cracking sound.
Nobody will notice them if we make everyone argue over the two doors.
They say to follow your dreams.
So, I followed your dreams.
They lured me into a meadow with butterflies and faerie lights.
“Join us,” your dreams said, and we danced under the moonlight.
That’s when your nightmares came out of the trees and attacked.
Your dreams scattered and left me behind for the nightmares.
Oh, the things they did to me… the horrible things.
But you know what they did.
Because you saw them in your dreams.
And in your nightmares.
So, take this sleeping pill.
Because it’s your turn.
Follow my dreams.
And then, my nightmares will enjoy you.
At every party Sheldon goes to, the conversation will stop and someone will say “Well, wait a minute… what does Sheldon think.”
Nobody says a word. Every eye is turned to Sheldon.
Sheldon looks at his watch and counts the seconds.
Until the second hand makes a full turn around the face of his watch.
Usually, he’s got some kind of great insight.
Unlike others, Sheldon thinks before he speaks.
But once, he couldn’t come up with anything.
And the party became a riot. He was torn limb from limb.
Well, wait a minute… what do you think?
Grandma said that I shouldn’t say such things.
“You can’t let The Devil take your voice.”
When I did bad things, she said I was letting The Devil take my hands.
Even if I didn’t say or do bad things, I thought them, and Grandma said I was letting The Devil take my head.
Grandma said lots of things, but so did The Devil.
And I gave him my ears, and I listened.
Walking out of Grandma’s burning house, holding her severed head by her hair.
Yes, I gave myself, whole, complete, to The Devil.
And I liked it.
Lucy pulled the football away from Charlie Brown one too many times, and he snapped.
Went into his Dad’s shed and got out an axe handle.
One whack, and Lucy went down hard.
Charlie dragged her corpse to the ramshackle psychiatrist stand, dug two nickels out of the can, and put them on Lucy’s eyes.
He ranted for hours before the adults found them.
Too young to prosecute him as an adult, so they put him in Juvie.
His sister Sally got the fucked-up dog.
Schroeder played piano at Lucy’s funeral.
And Linus left his blanket on his sister’s grave.
Once upon a time, there was a beautiful princess.
Her father promised her to an evil prince.
The evil prince killed all of his rivals, and every adventurer trying to free the princess.
The princess had no choice, and she married the prince.
Then, that night… while the prince and the princess were alone.
The princess killed the prince.
Because she was evil too.
She burned down the prince’s castle, killing everyone.
And she brought the prince’s head to her father.
“Our plan worked,” she said. “Both kingdoms are ours.”
And they lived happily…
Until someone more evil came around.