You can buy Lucky Charms marshmallows by the bag from some online store.
So, I gave these to my son as a Christmas gift.
I put a note on the bag “Santa had the elves pick these out of 20 cereal boxes. Then he gave the crappy cereal to an orphanage full of bad children.”
My son then proceeded to act like a dickhead to his little sister.
That’s when the bag of marshmallow bits vanished, and another note appeared:
“Santa gave your address to the kids in the orphanage. And baseball bats.”
He’s hiding in the basement, behaving himself.
Tag: tragedy
Young Mary
Young Mary had a dream. An angel told her that she was pregnant with God’s baby.
“But I’m a virgin,” she said.
The angel shrugged. “The Boss likes ’em young.”
Her family tried to get her to see a doctor, but she didn’t want them anywhere near her miracle baby.
“God will take care of His child,” she said.
As her belly grew larger, Mary grew weaker.
Until one day, she was dead.
The baby turned out to be a rapidly-growing tumor in her intestinal tract.
Nobody wanted to be the first to ask for their baby shower gift back.
Last Great American Whore
Lou Reed watched his wife’s Laurie’s face rot away, revealing a grinning skull.
“Get up,” said The Grim Reaper, yanking the withered musician from his bed. “I want you to meet someone.”
From the shadows, a teenager in jeans and a leather jacket walked in, a guitar slung on his back.
“They tell me I had a promising future,” said the teen. “But I died while waiting on the liver transplant list.”
The kid strummed his guitar and sung a few lines, and Lou wept at its perfection.
Slowly, his face rotted away, revealing Death’s wicked grin.
“Murderer,” he said.
Weather Sacrifices
Back home, we had a saying: if you don’t like the weather, wait 15 minutes.
Around here, they say: if you don’t like the weather, make a bigger sacrifice to the gods.
(Those that disagree get sacrificed to the gods.)
So, I brushed the goat’s ashes from the altar and looked for a bigger goat.
Sadly, the goat I’d just sacrificed had been our last goat.
The conversion table that came with the altar says that four chickens equals a goat.
I selected five from the coop, slammed their heads against the altar, and lit the fire.
Rain, dammit. Rain.
Bike
My wife got me a bike for my birthday.
Three weeks later, I fell off of it, and broke my elbow.
The other day, I saw that my coworker had left his old bike out in the rain.
“I have a bike that I’m not using,” I said. “Barely used. Need it?”
“Sure,” he said.
So, we loaded the bike into my wife’s truck and drove it in to work.
“Here you go,” I told my coworker.
“Thank you,” he said, and we haven’t seen him since.
I hope that the bike didn’t kill him.
But better him than me.
No Hope
When Bruwyn disappeared, we went to all the local animal shelters to see if he’d been picked up.
But he hadn’t. He’d been run over and killed.
We didn’t know this, though. So every black cat we saw, I’d say “Bruwyn? Booboo?” to, and watch.
Even the ones who had been abandoned by their owners.
Some had green eyes. Bruwyn’s were yellow.
But still, I’d ask, hoping.
When we got the call from our neighbor, we knew he was gone.
I still look around the hedges and parking lots, though.
Not as much as before, but I still look.
Hoping.
Will Work For… Food
The guy’s sign said WILL WORK FOR FOOD.
“Any good at raking leaves?” I asked.
He nodded.
Turns out, he was really good at it. He raked the front and back yards, and bagged everything.
“Well done,” I said. “What do you want to eat?”
He sank his fangs into my neck and drank my blood.
I almost laughed at the cleverness of his sign. After all, he had done work for me, his food.
Somehow, I managed to jam the rake handle through his chest to kill him.
Thank goodness I didn’t ask him to mow the lawn, too.
Fred’s in a better place
Shady Acres Home is a dump, and Old Fred had the worst room at Shady Acres.
It was too hot in summer, and too cold in winter.
But despite all this, Old Fred smiled.
“One day, my days here will be over, and I will be in a better place.”
And when that day came, Fred’s bed was empty.
“There was an opening at Golden Arms,” said the administrator of Shady Acres to the staff. “Fred moved out.”
When Fred died, nobody said he was in a better place.
He’d donated his body to science. That medical school is creepy.
The Witch
Gertie the Witch insisted on mixing potions from memory.
“I don’t need my spell book!” she’d screech at the Fire Department. “I’ve still got it all up here!”
He’d tap her forehead.. and noticed that her pointed hat was on fire.
The moment the firemen left, she was back in the kitchen.
Eye of bat…
Tongue of newt…
…or was it the other way around?
Her handwriting hadn’t been the best, even in her good days. And years of smoke damage had left the contents of her supply closet a grimy, sooty mystery.
I call dibs on her magic broom.
Two Doses Of Candy
Unlike other houses in the neighborhood, Doctor Odd makes his own candy for Halloween.
And it’s the best candy. In the world.
Kids flock from miles around to ring his doorbell and beg for his candy.
Some kids try to trick or treat his house twice. Or they trade their entire haul for a second helping of his candy.
One dose of the secret ingredient induces euphoria in a child. But two doses?
“The warning label clearly states that two servings may cause death,” says Doctor Odd’s attorney.
And this is why The Day Of The Dead comes after Halloween.