Tag: horror

Fabio Sucks

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I’m just as stunned as you are. Fabio was a great spokesman for “I Can’t Believe It’s Not Butter.”
I guess his vampiric transformation was just too gruesome.
Such a waste.
And that’s what fooled us all – the hair, the muscles. Who knew he was so brilliant with chemistry?
It didn’t take him long to get labspace at Unilever to develop a cruetly-free food source for himself.
Not only will “I Can’t Believe It’s Not Blood!” eliminate any fear of transfusion-related ailments like AIDS and Hep-C, but it’s damn tasty, too.
Still, every now and then I miss draining someone.

For Elise

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My sister Elise calls me her guardian angel.
Father, called me a tumor. He left when we were 4.
Mother didn’t say much of anything about the withered midget on her daughter’s back.
Elise and I don’t just share a liver and kidneys – we share absolutely everything. No secrets between us, although she sometimes jokes “What are you plotting behind my back?”
The doctors whisper over headphones that there’s risk, but not as much if they don’t have to worry about me.
“Mother didn’t,” I say. “Why should I?”
I promise she won’t wake up alone. I’m her angel.

The Cute

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Warden Wilson’s motto was “We put the ‘cute’ in electrocution.”
His first order of business was to replace the old wooden electric chair with a comfortable electric couch.
Fresh flowers and rustic decorations adorned Death Row to give it a “homey” feel. Lots of framed needlepoint, and the bars were replaced with delicate wrought iron.
When the guards’ union balked at the duck and the bunny suits, Wilson flew into a berserk rage.
“Fine!” he shouted. “Forget about the flowers and hugs… you can keep your stupid batons and guns!”
Wilson’s bludgeoned and shot body was found the next day.

Radiating Love

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I love Jeannie to death, but sometimes she drives me nuts.
The sensors say that it’s still not safe to go outside of the shelter, but she’s accusing me of having an affair?
“We might just be the last two people on earth!” I shout. “Who am I cheating with?”
“I know you put on that radiation suit and go carousing at night,” she sneers.
I shake my head and wonder if it’s really worth trying to save the species when it’ll be stuck with her crazy and retarded genes.
Whatever. If supplies run low, I can always eat her.

Sticky Situation

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I can’t decide which is worse – having to scrape all this gum from under these desks all day or mopping up the shit and piss from a dead kid.
Yeah, it’s a real headscratcher.
You see, bubblegum is easy to poison. Just use a powder that looks like the sugar they dust this crap with.
The wrappers untwist without tearing. A little heat seals them back up.
Then you leave it out in a candy dish, the kid takes it… and WHAM problem solved.
Usually, they swallow it.
I hate it when it falls out and sticks to the floor.

Running On Empty

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I wake up, smelling… burnt meat?
Everything’s swimmy and wild.
Am I drugged?
There’s a swirling, kaleidoscope medic standing over me. He moves his lips, but I can’t understand what he’s saying.
He writes on a card, holds it up: “Do you hear that beeping sound?”
I try to shake my head, but it’s strapped down.
“No,” I say.
I can feel myself saying No, but I can’t hear it.
The medic writes more: “What do you remember?”
“I was checking the gas can. Then, I saw a bright flash, and then… this.”
The medic writes again: “With a lighter?”

Under The Big Guy’s Big Top

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The sharpshooter’s act ended without bloodshed, so the ringmaster waved out the gymnasts.
Seventeen agile Frenchmen pranced their way to the center ring, somersaulting and leaping with great skill.
Just as they finished their Parisian Pyramid, the trapeze artists screamed… the rigging was giving way.
The tent’s canvas ripped open quickly, revealing a horrific sight: the stars were careening wildly around the sky like drunken moths.
The astonished tumblers fell to the ground in a groaning pile, but the bearded old man in the audience began to laugh and applaud.
“Splendid!” God said. “Best night I’ve had in eons! Bravo.”

Horseman 3000

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The company spent half a billion dollars developing the cure. Heck, we spent millions coming up with the brand name:
Revivalyfe.
Pretty, isn’t it? And a lovely shade of sky blue.
All we need is a disease for it.
Relax – manufacturing diseases is child’s play, thanks to the old Horseman 3000. Just tap in the symptoms, decide on a vector, sync up Revivalyfe’s cure profile, and turn the key.
Five hours later, you’ve got your disease.
What? The DEATH button is still sticking?
I’ll call Maintenance… just hold on…
Strange. No answer.
Okay, just hit CANCEL for now…
Cancel! CAN-

Route 666

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Saint John Chrysostom once said that the road to Hell is paved with the skulls of priests.
Know what? It is. And those things’ll tear your tires up in less than a mile.
That’s why my truck has runflats.
I make this trip every few weeks for someone or another that wants me to grab a relative before they pass through the gates.
Few people know where the off-ramp is for Route 666, but if you’ve got the jack then I’ve got the beer.
Sure your daughter’s worth all this?
Okay, then – buckle up. It’s going to be rough.

The Headless Nessman

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Shaking nervously, Herb Tarlek looked out into the hallway.
“Do you see him?” whispered Mr. Carlson. “Do you see… Les?”
“No,” said Herb. “He’s not out here.”
“Well, no wonder why you can’t hear him,” said Johnny Fever. “Your jacket’s way too loud.”
Venus and Bailey cowered in the corner. “We’re all going to die,” whimpered Bailey.
Jennifer took a deep breath. “Who’s watching the back door?”
Just then, Andy let out a hideous moan and fell to the floor, an axe buried in his neck.
The Headless Nessman drew back the axe, hacked again, and dragged off Andy’s head.