Drop #94: Cheesy Horror Flick (Part 2)

Click here for Part 1

 

The three of them run and hide in the basement, pulling the trapdoor closed behind them.

‘We have to get to one of the cars!’ Cheyenne screams.

‘It will have to be yours,’ Billy quickly answers. ‘Lance had the keys to ours.’

There is a minute of tense silence as they sit still, hearing no sound, not knowing if the maniac is in the house, above their  heads. Then they turn on their headlights to look for weapons. In a stroke of amazing coincidence, Billy comes across on an old newspaper clipping: ‘Oh my God, guys. Look at this!’

The article, now twenty years old, describes how an angry mob hung Edmund Bray, a mentally challenged behemoth to a tree and set him on fire, accusing him of having raped a young girl. It describes Edmund to be the bastard son of an old raccoon trapper who impregnated his own daughter. The teenager had this child alone in the woods, before taking her life with poison berries. The boy grew up in the father’s basement, beaten and whipped repeatedly, while endlessly chopping wood and quilting blankets.

‘Do you think it’s him? Back from the dead?’

The slow, hollow banging on the trapdoor gives them no chance to answer. There’s another tense silence till a chainsaw starts up. It cuts right through the quiet and the old wood as the girls scream and soon enough, all 6 feet seven inches, and 280 lbs of Edmund Bray crash through the floor in a chaos of rubble and dust.

Billy immediately gets a hatchet to the face, and while the weapon is stuck there for a second, and Bray is distracted  trying to get it back, the girls run past him and scramble up the wreckage towards the kitchen above, yanking themselves up with pure adrenalin as the psycho claws wildly at their heals.

Margo has cleverly grabbed a couple of rusty weapons and thrusts a cleaver into Cheyennes hands. But Edmund is back upstairs and in the panic, the girls are split up.

Margo goes for the car keys, but they aren’t on the dresser where she left them. She turns and ducks just in time to avoid a hatchet to the head. She runs to another room pausing to look back at him, as he frees the blood-stained weapon from the wall. He smiles maniacally, holding up the car keys, before jingling them, showing his rotted brown teeth, and swallowing them.

We cut to Cheyenne who is sneaking on the other side of the house, not knowing where the butcher could be; but she soon finds out when he comes from behind and grabs her. He only has her by the skirt though and she tears away,  running for her life in only her underwear, round buttocks exposed in pink panties. But she runs into a dead-end.

Edmund picks her up and pins her to the closet a foot off the floor with two ten-inch pegs shoved through her shoulders. He saws off both her legs while she’s still alive and screaming and watches her bleed to death. He seems to enjoy this, stroking her dying face with a huge, twisted hand till he gets an arrow in the side. That’s right, Margo has found a crossbow. Bitch is fighting back!

‘You’re mine now, fuckhead! ’she yells shooting another one-off. This one sticks in the lunatic’s meaty neck, but two arrows can’t take him down, and he storms after her. She’s trying to reload as she runs away but he’s mad now and he catches her by the foot. He grunts as he looks to deliver the killer blow, but she kicks him and stabs him with the scalpel she took from the basement earlier, and scrambles away. But he’s still coming, scalpel in shoulder and all, and he’s got her cornered in the study. She hits the wall with a bang, knocking a deer head off of it. He raises his hatchet and is ready to strike but he doesn’t get the chance: he has the reindeer’s antlers through his chest and stomach, perforating him all over. She has killed him with a deer head.

Margo crawls out from under his hulking mass and limps outside, exhausted and relieved–but she realizes she has no car keys! It dawns on her that if she’s going to get away, she’ll have to hack them out of the madman’s stomach. But she’s beyond it all now and willing to do anything to leave this place.

He’s still lying there with the deer head rammed in his chest. She takes the hatchet from his rigid hand and gets right to it, slamming it heavily into his massive belly, exposing its putrid slabs of fat. She pulls out and repeats it twice, three times, getting a rhythm but suddenly, Edmund comes to life and grabs her wrist. She screams and slashes at his arm, chopping it off at the wrist. Then she runs, with the thing still clamped on. She must get out of this house!

She’s still alive but injured and covered in everyone’s blood. She yanks off the enormous, gray, gripping hand and throws it in the bushes. She staggers along the dirt track till she reaches the main road as a van approaches. She falls to her knees and cries as she waves it down.

She’s overjoyed till she looks at the driver. It’s an old man in a dirty red baseball cap chewing tobacco. He spits his wad and straightens his junk before he speaks: ‘Well, well, well. What have we here?’

By E.M. Vireo

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Drop #60: The Cretinaceous Period

For many years, with so little fossil evidence to work with, The Cretinaceous Period remained one of the least understood prehistrionic periods, continuing to baffle sarahpalintologists around the globe. We knew only that it occurred between the Triassic and Jymnastic periods, in the middle of the Misozoic era, when the atmosphere was hot and soupy, and that it was a silly time for the rather empty-headed dinosaurs that roamed its plains.

However, with the veritable treasure trove of well kept and near complete dinosaur skeletons recently discovered in the fossil rich Great Artesian Basin in Australia’s Outback Steakhouse, the global sarahpalintological community has been able to offer a far clearer picture. Turns out the dinosaurs of the Cretinaceous Period were even more imbecilic than first expected.

There was the Legosaurus, a clumsy creature that wasn’t very well put together (they found pieces of the famous Steakhouse specimen strewn across a vast area – so much so, that excavators kept stepping on them), and the Oesophagalus: a large herbivore that only cared about getting food into its stomach. There was the Bragaceratops: a small but incredibly conceited dinosaur that rubbed in any victory for epochs, and the Wannabuyapairomops: a big, lazy beast that just hung around the local ponds trying to sell cheap, stolen wares.

One of the largest Cretinaceous dinosaurs, however was Diplodorkus. It was intelligent but awkward and uncoordinated, and hence, easy prey for carnivores like Mymommasawus Rex, and the fiery Tyrannosaurus Tex Mex, though it would have been too massive for even a large pack of hunting Impossiraptors (there was just no way they could make it work). The other major medium sized predator of the time was Vebossyraptor. Groups of three or four would hunt smaller prey, steered by a heavy clawed, authoritative leader that never stopped hissing directions, but did little of the actual killing.

Some of the other species described after the recent discovery were: Delokeeraptor, Rhabadubdon, Matadaurus, Amalmosdon, and Igotnomuarus, but they are very new to science, and little is known about their habits.

We also don’t know exactly how the Cretinaceous period ended, though most suspect it was the result of an enormous asterisk. As I said, we don’t know for sure. Others have suggested that changes in the earth’s core, including its transverse abs and obliques, resulted in shifty weather patterns, which brought on a devious ice age. Whatever the reason, by the start of the Jymnastic period, most of these dinosaurs had gone extinct. Can you imagine how terrible that must have smelled.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this journey through a ridiclous and little discussed prehistrionic period. Please note: though every effort was made to represent the species accurately, the pictures below are of reconstructions based largely on nonsense. They do, however, offer a glimpse into what things may or may not have been like.

Oesophagalus, obviously a herbivore, in it’s natural environment. Behind it is a perfect example of the flora of the Cretinaceous period. Look at the size of those trees!

A saucy brute, Tyrannosaurus Tex Mex terrorized the even dumber herbivores. *Note: Toilet signs atop picture are not representative of the Cretinaceoous Period.

Drop #37: Awful Day

I had an awful day yesterday. It just kept coming, relentlessly, forcing me well beyond exasperation. Thank God it’s over! Honestly, I don’t know if I could survive another like it.

It started in the morning, when a wrong number called me a good fifteen minutes before my alarm was to go off. I couldn’t fall asleep again, or even get into a good snooze pattern afterwards. At breakfast, the milk was almost spoiled and the cereal box almost empty, so I only got a quarter bowl of lousy cereal out of it. I also spilled half a cup of coffee over the kitchen counter. After eating, I used the bathroom as I always do, and ran out of toilet paper. I had to waddle down the hall with my pants around my ankles to get another roll.

The subway got stuck for more than four or five minutes on my way to work and my iPod had run out of juice too, so I had no music while I waited. It was drizzling when I got outside and though I’d brought an umbrella, it was half broken, so my right shoulder as well as my right calf got damp on the walk to my building.

In the office, my boss was there for a change, so I had to actually do work. I wouldn’t be able to take a long lunch or even leave early. I learned we’d just got a new client, which meant a stack of extra calls and emails over the next few weeks. It also meant I had to work closely with Derrick, the most annoying guy in the place. He never slacks off, always looking for things to get done, and expects you to contribute. As if that wasn’t enough, my shirt’s label suddenly started scratching my neck. It was really uncomfortable, but with no other one to change into, I had to suck it up.

I felt I deserved a good lunch, given the day I was having, so I went to Carmello’s for some home-made pasta, a glass of red wine, and some relaxation, but today, it was totally packed. I had to wait almost a quarter of an hour in the crowded front section for a table, and then, it was the worst one in the place: the small round one near the toilets – the one that can’t hold more than three plates. Who could enjoy lunch there? But I had no choice, and settled in. Of course, they’d run out of the house wine I always get, and poured me something unexceptional at one and third times the price. The pasta was kind of undercooked and the salad bar was out of asparagus – the only thing I really wanted from it – every time I walked over there. Needless to say, it was a very disappointing lunch, and what’s more, the server, some new woman I’d never laid eyes on, wouldn’t let me use my full stamp card, which had only expired two days earlier, to pay for it? Had she never heard of a grace period, for Christ’s sake? So I had to shell out hard cash for the positively underwhelming meal. In the bathroom, they hadn’t filled up the paper towel, so I was forced to dry my hands on my pants. I also stood in something syrupy, which had my feet sticking to the floor for the next twenty minutes, squeaking with every step.

In the evening I had to stay at work almost an hour longer than usual, so, by the time I got there, the gym was super busy and I could scarcely find a free elliptical machine; then, half way through my work out, the DVD of the TV series I’d been following started skipping at a crucial stage. After stopping my workout to clean and try it again three times I had to accept the disk was scratched and the episode unwatchable. Great! The whole series was ruined now, and needless to say, my workout too.

Afterwards, I just wanted to get some food, get home, and chill in front of the TV. They’d run out of chicken cutlet at the deli, so I had to settle for a balsamic chicken hero, but whatever, by now, after all the disappointments, it almost didn’t matter. I got back without incident but at home, the remote just stopped working for no reason. Turned out the batteries were flat. Who ever heard of the batteries in a remote running out? I had none spare, so I had to go all the way down to the corner store, the elevator stopping at four floors along the way (one with no one even waiting to get in) to buy more at their rip off price. Back upstairs, after another long, multiple stop elevator ride, shared with a mother and her two loud, misbehaved kids, and an old man with halitosis and a cane, who kept knocking a plastic bag full of hard, irregular objects against my shin, there was nothing on TV, so I went online, but the connection was miserably slow, taking almost a second to load a friggin page! When it returned to normal a minute or two later, I played a few games of Hearts while I ate, but lost like four in a row. That never happens. The balsamic chicken was awful and I ended up throwing most of it out.

Thank God, the day was almost over by now, but it wouldn’t end before both my teams lost in overtime, my mother called to say she couldn’t get me in for free at next week’s event, and the water in the bathroom stopped running before I could brush my teeth, only coming back on again when my routine was shattered, and I’d long given up on the idea of hitting the hay with minty molars.

I know many people, especially in other parts of the world, must have awful days too, but this one was surely right up there with the absolute worst. Honestly, I don’t know if I could survive another like it.

By E.M. Vireo