I have a lot of chores to do every day.
There was an app for To Do lists on my phone, but I’d have to stop playing Angry Birds long enough to check it.
So, I picked up a corkboard and pinned my to do list up there.
When I finish a task, I stick in a pin.
I call it my Voodoo To Do List.
I just have to be careful about putting names on it.
Like when I wrote “Get birthday present for Stan” and stuck a pin in it.
Poor Stan.
Hold on. Gotta add “Stan’s Funeral.”
Category: Halloween
Candy Corn
Here at Boone Farms, we’ve been bit by this ass-nasty drought just like everybody else.
But instead of just watching our corn and soybeans and other of our traditional crops burn in the fields, we went all-in with a different crop:
Candy corn.
What? You think that stuff gets made in candy factories?
Boy, do you got your shit wrong there, son!
Candy corn grows on stalks just like the normal stuff, but it don’t need rain and sun.
Just corn syrup and coloring.
Plus, those Easter Peeps love this shit.
(But I must admit, I miss the chicken eggs.)
Curse The Darkness
Someone once said that it’s better to light a candle than curse the darkness, but they didn’t have their house burn down because the candle set their drapes on fire.
Oh, sure, I tried to blow out the flames, but they spread too quickly.
Tear down the drapes and stomp them? They were on fire! What do I grab?
I did manage to blow out the candle, though. But then I needed it to find the fire extinguisher.
I tried to light it off of the drapes.
Nope.
So, my house burned down, and my hand’s got hot wax burns.
The Evil Clown
Walking home from work, I saw a strange sight.
An evil clown was at the corner, waving a sign advertising a costume shop.
Halloween is next week, you know.
Anyway, I watched the evil clown dance and wave his sign at the passing traffic.
Not the most dignified of jobs, I know, but it’s still a job.
Plus, it’s unlikely that it’ll be outsourced to India, since there’s no point in some clown in Bangalore waving a sign around there when the store it’s advertising is in Houston, Texas.
“The economy’s looking up,” I said, and went along my way.
Marshmallow Town
Marshmallow Town is under martial law.
Campers with sticks, graham crackers, and chocolate bars are roaming the streets, abducting Marshmallowites and dragging them back to their campfires.
To impale them.
To hold them over the fire.
To stick them between the crackers with the chocolate and…
OH MY GOD! THE MARSHMALLOWITY!
Sadly, marshmallows can’t fight back, so they’re hired a brute squad from Butterville.
The butter brutes patrol the streets, looking for campers with sticks.
“Your sticks are no match for our unsaturated fats!” shout the butter brutes.
So the campers pull out their knives and warm them with lighters…
Hole in the ground
Bobby wanted to dig a hole to China.
His mother said it couldn’t be done.
So, instead of digging to China, he dug a hole to Hell.
That wasn’t so hard to do, really. Just took him a few minutes dripping some blood from his fingertip on to his trowel.
The trowel bit into the dirt, drew out a clump, and a large blast of fire and heat exploded from the back yard.
Bobby, his mother, and the house vanished instantly.
After a day of infernal madness, the government sealed off the block and said “It’s just a gas leak.”
Count Dracula
The people on the TV say today is a day to reflect.
But I, Count Dracula, am a vampire.
I have no reflection.
I look in the mirror and I see nothing.
Should I be seeing something?
Ten years go, I go to my coffin, I rest during the day, and when I wake up, everybody is losing their shit on the TV.
People are digging through the rubble.
And they’re donating blood.
And all I can think about is “Well, this sucks. Now when I go out to drink, not only will I be a monster, but unpatriotic, too.”
Kate
Remember that supermodel Kate Moss? Yeah the really thin chick. Really thin. Scary thin. She could put on a bikini and double her weight. yeah, that’s her. You could see the bones in her hips… her arms, really unattractive, yet, she was a model.
Well, she got bitten by a zombie… kept groaning brains, and all, but when it got right down to it, after all the biting and attacking and stuff, she didn’t really eat any brains. Oh, sure, she’d moan braaaaaaains along with the rest of the pack, she ended up just pushing them round on her plate.”
Dolly
When people asked Dolly Parton what she wanted people to say about her in 100 years, she’d say: “Darn, she looks good for her age!”
When the zombie outbreak swept across the country, Dolly was one of the many millions roaming the streets moaning “BRAAAAAAINS!”
Well, not exactly moaning. She still had a bit of that sweet friendly twang to her voice. Some say she’d toss in a “Howdy, y’all!” and “How ya doin?”
The plague was contained, she was caught, and after all these years, her still-groaning corpse is in Examination Pod Nine.
And, damn, she looks like shit.
The Patient Patient
Seth ran into the storeroom, slammed the door shut, and pushed a table against it.
WHAM! A zombie hit the door, rattling Seth.
The lock held. For now.
He pulled out a cigarette, remembered he was inside, oh screw it, the world’s ending, right?
He reached for his lighter… damn it, where… where… no lighter.
More pounding. Loud moaning.
“Want a smoke?” he had asked Dr. Grant. “Not like these guys are going anywhere, right?”
Oh, how he wrong he’d been. All he wanted now was just one smoke.
Grant had his lighter.
Seth moaned. And the zombies moaned louder.