You (the adult) comment frequently (and often obnoxiously) on a web site frequented by commenters who are monsters. One day your comments go too far. They show up at your house and tear you to pieces before the eyes of your weeping and terrified parents (visiting for Thanksgiving)
"When I, Robert Halford, was five years old, my parents, Grandma and Grandpa Halford, moved our family from Beautiful Sunny California to MONSTERLAND. I really didn't want to move away from all my friends, but my mom got a new job at the monster hospital.
One day at dinner mom came home with one of her patients. He was all wrapped in bandages. I said "Mom, why did you bring home that scary person," and she said "This is the Mummy, he has to spend time with a human family as a part of his therapy. He's going to have dinner with us." When the Mummy ate, he got spaghetti sauce on his bandages.
The next day mom came home with another patient, and he had no skin. He was just bones. Mom said he was a skeleton who had to have dinner with us as a part of his therapy. Whenever skeleton put food in his mouth, it just fell out the bottom of his jaw.
To be continued.
You (an adult entertainment lawyer) determine that various monster identities (vampire, mummy, etc.) are not in the public domain and actually remain the intellectual property of certain Hollywood studios. You attempt to collect royalties from users of this IP. Unbeknownst to you some such users are actual monsters. They show up at your house and tear you to pieces before your weeping and horrified parents (visiting for Thanksgiving)
As you drive to work, you run over a bump. You notice the road is getting bumpier and bumpier. Finally something punctures through the concrete, so you pull over to investigate.
As you lean over the crevice, a hand jerks out, grabs you by the scruff of your neck, and pulls you head first through the crack and underground.
There you discover an underground lair of very hungry monsters. You are diced, sauteed, and served in a tortilla wrap. Your parents are awfully sad.
[Sorry, my own child was demanding money so she could "go buy donuts from the convenient place," (her name for the convenience store.)]
"The next night Mom brought home a Witch so she could have dinner with a normal human family as a part of her therapy. The Witch took one look at me, and said "Oh goody! Dr. Halford purchased a five year old boy to serve to me for dinner!" I was scared and ran out of the house and across the street to the neighbors house.
The neighbors were monsters, though, because this was MONSTERLAND. The mom was a Zombie, the dad was a Ghost and the kids were Frankenstein, Medusa and a Vampire. They said "we are all so sick...we need to live with a human as a part of our therapy!" and they trapped me in the house and kept me there forever.
My mom said "I should have never taken that job at Monster Hospital in MONSTERLAD! My only child is gone!"
And my dad said "O! I shall be sad and angry forever!"
The End
You're in middle school. The visiting baseball team and their parents look a bit dodgy. As pitcher, you give up the winning home run and get caught in the scrum as they carry the batter off the field to the team minivan. Somehow you end up in the trunk. Your parents are looking for you, very loudly, as the minivan drives away. It turns out that monsters ... don't like ice cream!
Ba ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!
Halford could be Odysseus, trying to get home to his parents and running into monsters that his daughter prefers at each stop (probably better not to introduce extra monsters - they might become canon). Eventually, he dies and never comes home, and his parents find a washed up hand/head/something.
Or, like the labyrinth/minotaur myth - Halford has to make it through a maze (not sure why - treasure?) and keeps finding monsters at dead ends. He eventually reaches the treasure and is killed by $monster and dies, with his parents waiting at the maze's exit, growing older and more forelorn.
Pretty much any quest story works, with each trial as a different monster, plus you don't have to be too inventive.
4.last: So the purpose of this thread is to serve Halford.
Halford goes to Monster U or Monster High with a different monster as his teacher for each class. He barely escapes monster death in every class but on his way home gets hit by a car. Or one monster thinks he has promise (maybe the vampire, that seems easy) and keeps him as a monster in training forever. His parents learn the importance of public education and school rankings.
Years from now you will appreciate that this is just the start of a long con.
You own a bar in wartime Morocco. The vampire gets on the plane with the witch. You get arrested when the mummy says 'round up the usual suspects.'
Playing hide-and-seek, you venture into a wardrobe that conceals a portal into a charming world of Christian allegory. The monsters are super-nice and welcoming, but very clumsy, and one drops a metaphor on you. The end.
You're a smuggler, and have fallen for a witch. She only has eyes for the mummy though. There's a war between monsters and people, but you seem to be on the side of the monsters. Anyway, the witch barely escapes as her town dramatically burns down. You end up together, but she's still pining for the mummy, and finally [after drunk sex?] you tell her that frankly you don't give a damn. Then the mummy comes and captures you and sells you into slavery.
I hope Halford actually uses 1 and 3.
You were age now-1. You had to pick up a few things from the supermarket. After buying them, as you were wandering towards the mall car park, you notice a new donut shop had opened. They look pretty tasty, and there's a short queue, so you start to line up.
Seemed like they needed to cook up a new batch of donuts though - you realise this place is some kind of fresh donut specialist, or something. A few people have joined the queue behind you, the first one has really crazy hair, you think you can hear some hissing or something? And what's that guy behind her, he seems kind of pale, he's got dark sunglasses on. Mmm, those donuts smell good, but they're not ready yet ...
Keep adding monsters to the queue and dragging out the arrival of donuts, until at the end, ravenous with hunger, you buy like the whole batch of two dozen donuts. The monsters kidnap you and take your donuts. They keep you in the closet of an abandoned library they all live in, and feed you lemons and stale bread, and make you teach them Latin. Your parents are sad you were never very good at conjugation..
You're a doctor, and treat some people who've risen up against their monster overlords. You get tried and convicted and sent to Little Monster Island as a prisoner. You end up exchanging some witty repartee (is there any other kind?) with the governor's daughter (who looks like a young Olivia de Haviland). You escape and lead a band of pirates. The daugther falls into your hands. She refuses to betray her kind, though, and the monsters capture you back, preventing a Glorious Revolution back on Big Monster Island.
Everyone has Scottish accents.
You are a feral child, living amongst the wolves. One day, the monsters eat all the wolves. And then you. It makes the national news. Your parents recognize the tattered remains of your flesh ("Hey, that's just how my flesh shreds, too! Could it be?...") Then they are awfully upset.
The question in the OP is obviously nothing but projection, transference, and neurosis. Can somebody who knows Halford's parents see if they won't call him up and remind him that they'll never stop loving him even if he becomes a vegan, open-sourcer?
You (at your current age) must tell a story about being eaten by monsters every night to your daughter. Word of this gets around the monster community, and they start to lurk outside in the shadows at bedtime. Everyone likes hearing stories about themselves doing cool things, right? Eventually the crowd of lurking monsters gets quite large. One night an especially good story rouses their desires and the crowd turns unruly, breaking into your house and gobbling you up before your daughter's eyes. Even your parents (who are vampires) take part, weeping as they gobble.
You're a lawyer charged with defending a couple of well meaning non-scary monsters accused of harming their fellow monster. The Monster King ends up giving an impassioned speech at the trial that shows he's actually the guilty one. It doesn't matter, because the speech is so good for people with monster values, so the nice ones are convicted and you're disbarred. Demi Moore (she's part alien, right) is very disappointed in you, and Kevin Bacon (the dancing monster who knows everyone) laughs in your face.
ALTERNATE ENDING TO 20: the monsters are so taken with the stories you tell about them that they kidnap you and make you tell them a story every night. Your parents (among the crowd of monsters) like the stories but are sad that they can no longer brag about your career to their non-monster friends.
You, an acne-scarred dweeb of 15, are sitting in your high-school gym's locker room, popping zits by feel. Overcome by shame, you aren't paying attention to your surroundings, and don't notice, as you go to pop a particularly ripe one, that a Cool Kid is passing in front of you—he is hit by the rocketing pus. Extremely shocked, he loses hold on the magic that allows him to pass for human and the Cool Kid is revealed to be a horrible monster! You run from the locker room but are pursued. All the other cool kids, figuring that the jig is now up, shed their human disguises and join in the hunt, swiftly capturing you. The principal of the school calls your parents and gives them the bad news, and they are overcome sorrow.
23. That actually happened to you, didn't it?
You're kidnapped by a group of monsters. They take you prisoner because they're caught in a very unfortunate predicament: their children have all become addicted to stories about humans. Every night, their children have to be told a new story involving a large cast of characters including: a Texan mathematician with an ever-growing collection of children; a barfly who consumes only Rusty Nails because the internet told him to; an ex-philosopher with a fro and a penchant for Oulipo; a cranky old man who wants to drop nuclear bombs on tsunamis; a humble creature whose diet consists of soggy hamburgers and microwaved plastic; and a copyright lawyer who eats only bacon. They couldn't believe their luck when they found you, one of the characters they never believed really existed. They're very apologetic about the kidnapping, but they have to keep you forever so you can feed them stories, because the alternative is that their monster children will eat them all. Your parents are sad but think you really should have listened to their advice about eating more vegetables.
You are in Wyoming, trying to get into Yellowstone park. But the throngs and throngs of visitors are jamming the entrance. You wait in line for days, mentally apologizing to Teo for ever doubting him. You are literally camping out in order to camp out. You make friends with your fellow line-waiters, who you take to be a bunch of grody Phish-worshippers. But they're actually monsters, who capture you and use you as lamp-fuel. Your parents are awfully upset.
You're at an exclusive Hollywood party, and you spy a guest more alluring than any star in the moviefilm firmament: a genuine monster! You approach her and the two of you seem to hit it off, and she invites you to an even more exclusive party—one attended exclusively by monsters! All the monsters are there, and you have a wonderful time. The party ends near dawn, but you already can't wait to see your new friends again. It turns out you were a hit with them, as well, and the invitations keep coming. Indeed, hanging out with monsters soon comes to consume every aspect of your life. Your parents are saddened and appalled at the neglect that you exhibit toward your job, your home, and your daughter.
By a bare tree on a country road, current-age you and a companion wait for an unnamed monster, who may be a ghost, witch, skeleton, medusa, vampire, mummy, or Frankenstein. You converse, argue, sleep, contemplate suicide, and eat carrots. A loquacious fop and his slave pass by, as does your daughter, who promises that the monster will arrive tomorrow. Your companion turns out to be a zombie, and he eats your brain. The fop and his slave, who are actually your parents, witness this from afar, tears streaming down their cheeks.
You are 16 and have somehow got a date with the alpha girl in your class. You take her to a dance, and you go to fetch her a coke, but when you come back she's dancing with a vampire. You go to leave, but a witch catches you and wants to make out with you. It turns out that the witch's date is a werewolf, and he tears you to pieces and eats you, except for the variety meats that he shares with the other monsters. But his hair is perfect. You parents are sad, but your date's parents sue them until they lose their house, which makes them even sadder.
ALTERNATE ENDING TO 23: The cool kids capture you and work their magic on you! Over the coming weeks you come to be a Cool Kid yourself, at least externally; inwardly you are a monster! Your parents notice the change and are sad: "We knew high school would be hard for him—but so hard he would start wearing a seashell necklace? What's become of the values we tried to give him?"
You (an adult entertainment lawyer) are working on rights and packaging for "Jane Austen's I Know What You Did Last Scary Summer Part III", an upcoming movie based loosely on Pride and Prejudice that spoofs monster movies with a plot about a group of sexy teens besieged by monsters during their summer vacation. You believe that you have secured all the relevant rights. The vengeful spirit of Jane Austen, who roams the earth as a zombie flesh-eating cat preying on single women, disagrees. She rallies all the members of Monsterville with an inspiring speech about how Hollywood is the REAL vampire and the depredations of actual monsters are as nothing compared to the psychic devastation created by the entertainment-industrial complex. Indeed, if they want to be real monsters they need to make their own movie. Inspired, the monsters get together and kidnap all the studio executives, lawyers, and actors involved in 'JAIKWYDLSS III' and bring them to Monsterville. There, they serve as the cast of an movie involving a group of sexy monsters torturing studio lawyers and consuming their flesh. They also kidnap the parents of everyone in the movie and force them to watch the movie over and over. While the human 'cast' are savagely killed in every movie, they are magically kept alive for infinite sequels. I would say 'the end', except this cinematic torture will never end.
You're captured by monsters who take you back to monster land. They make you camp by a big river, and hang your musical instruments in the poplar trees that line the banks. The monsters keep coming by and tormenting you by asking you to sing the songs of your homeland. (Mostly Beach Boys tunes, in turns out). Your parents are sad, but hearing you hit the high notes on Surfer Girl makes it bearable.
You drive to Brentwood for a consultation with Arnold Schwarzenegger about his upcoming album. On the way, a chasm opens up and swallows your car. You are captured and brought to the vast subterranean city Los Diablos where you are made a slave-lawyer for Coldplay, who are revealed to be a zombie, a witch, a Frankenstein, and a ghost respectively. A mummy shoves you in the monsterizer box, a medusa and skeleton operate it, and it creates a vampire version of you that TAKES YOUR PLACE IN THE SURFACE WORLD! [Reveal fangs.]
Your parents are sad, but mostly angry at your choice of clientele.
You, a neonate, are stolen from the hospital by monsters and brought to monster-earth, on the interior of normal earth. Your parents, who had been struggling to conceive, are devastated and never recover, but you, knowing no better, flourish in monster-earth and even have a child of your own.
Thanks guys, these are awesome. Two things for more advanced playets. First, it's helpful to bust out individual roles for the monsters (ie, the vampire did this, the skeleton did that). Otherwise there may be accusations of skimping on the "All the Monsters" rule. Giving the monsters individual names helps but is not required (e.g., I often call the mummies "Ramses" or "Amenhotep" to keep it interesting)
Second -- and after a lot of hard-nosed negotiation I've managed to prevent this from becoming a "rule" so it's more of a "guideline" that is merely a factor applicable to the "good story" rule -- it's a bonus to include descriptions of what the [applicable] monsters were when they were alive, e.g., the skeletons were people who years ago refused to let the witch stay in the haunted house overnight, so she cursed them forever.
24: not at all! I didn't take gym in high school and actually almost didn't graduate for that reason.
34 is pretty similar to one I've used.
As a child you were cursed that whenever you tell a story about yourself it will happen to you. Every night you tell your daughter about how you're captured and tortured by monsters, and every night after she goes to sleep you spend the rest of the night being tortured by monsters, and it's all worth it because that's how much you love her.
You are an investigator and you're working on a string of murders, all of which seem to have been carried out by a different monster. You realize that there is only one thing connecting all of the cases: you. It turns out that when you were a kid, your parents sold off control over your actions to a consortium of monsters and you cannot escape. Your parents are sorry and angry about what happened with the monsters because they took a one time fee for control of you instead of licensing you out for a term of life + 70 years.
Halford => Hollywood script writer
Halford's kid => Hollywood studio exec
Upon reaching the age of one hundred, and having found that the meager services he could provide his village were no longer welcome, Robert Halford set off walking.
As he traveled the path out of his village, before too long he met a zombie. "Tell me, zombie," said old Halford, "what is my purpose in life?"
"Why, that is simple," said the zombie. "Your purpose in life is to provide your brains for the good of the community. However, since you haven't got anymore, you'd better keep walking."
"Thank you, zombie," said old Halford, "but may I also know who you were in a previous life, so I may know whether to heed your advice?"
"Why, sure," said the zombie, "in my human days I was known as William Shockley."
Old Halford kept walking. A little while later, he came across a ghost. "Hello, dear ghost," said Halford, "may I ask you what is my purpose in life, now that I am so old?"
"Well," said the ghost, "the paramount thing for one who was born outside the time of living memory is to be remembered every day. But since you are already forgotten, and are not even that old compared to me, I guess you had better keep walking."
"Thank you, ghost," said Halford, "but may I know who you are, so I understand how my reputation suffers compared to yours?"
"Oh yes," said the ghost, my name is "L. Ron Hubbard."
Old Halford kept walking and a long time later, many days, he came across a witch. "Great witch," cried Halford, much relieved to see somebody, "can you tell me my purpose in life, at long last?"
"Ah, that's a good question," said the witch. "In my experience, the point of life is to use your magic to make the world your own, but since you don't have any magic, and are clearly not very good at owning things since you don't have any now, I guess you'd better just keep walking."
"Well, thanks, I suppose, witch. May I ask your name, that I can better understand how to take your advice?"
"My witch name is a closely kept secret, but you humans know me as Margaret Thatcher."
Old Halford kept walking. He was tired now, but he kept on. After not too long this time, he came across Frankenstein's monster. "Oh monster!" said Halford, "has your terrible life prepared you to answer a question for an old man, and tell me what my remaining purpose is in life?"
"Aw, geez," said Frankenstein's monster, "things aren't so bad. But that's also not a very hard question. Ordinarily, one's purpose is to serve one's betters faithfully while still hewing to one's own moral code. But in your case, nobody needs your services, and you're too useless to be immoral. So I guess you'd just better keep walking."
"Okay then. I guess that's an answer. Thank you, Frankenstein. But may I know your name, so that I may judge your statements by the light of your actions?"
"I'm a monster, I don't have a name! But I seem to remember that my brain was taken from the grave of a man named Paul Bremer."
Old Halford kept walking, stooped now, and visibly wearied. Shortly, he came across a skeleton. "Hello, skeleton! May I ask you a question? I am an old man, as you see, and am trying to determine my remaining purpose in life. Can you tell it to me?"
"Oh my god why are you calling me that? Anyhow, duh, the purpose in life is to be extraordinary, glamorous, and perfect. Since you fail on all three counts and also are gross, you should probably just keep walking."
"I can take a hint, skeleton. But can you tell me what your name was before you found yourself in this sorry state?"
"WHAT sorry state? And stop calling me that. My name is Lindsay Lohan."
Old Halford kept walking, pausing often to rest. After what seemed like a long while, but was only a couple of miles, he came across a medusa. Taking care not to look directly at her, he humbly asked: "dear Medusa, I am an old man, and tired. Can you tell me what my remaining purpose in life is?"
"My normal answer is that everybody's purpose is to serve me as living statues, but you're barely living and -- excuse me -- wouldn't make much of a statue. So why don't you scoot."
"I will, great Medusa. Of course. But first, may I ask your name?"
"Oh my god I had a freakin' mutli-season basic cable show for nothing. I'm Kathy Griffin, dingus."
Old Halford kept walking. After another while, he met a vampire. "Oh, hi, vampire. I guess I should ask you what my purpose in life is."
"Guy, your purpose in life is to get the hell out of Charlie Sheen's orgy room before Charlie Sheen throws Charlie Sheen's cut crystal coke mirror at your fucking head."
"Sorry, vampire. I'll leave. Thanks for telling me your name, I guess."
Old Halford kept walking, and after a long time, the longest yet, he came across a mummy. "Hello mummy," said Halford, "can you tell me my purpose? While you're at it, can you tell me your name?"
Halford waited. The mummy was silent. "Mummy?"
But there was nothing. Finally Halford crept with some trepidation over to where the mummy was sitting. He noticed with some confusion that the mummy was actually sitting up, in a large wooden box, and further that the wooden box was labeled "Jeremy Bentham".
"I must say, mummy," said Halford, "this is a funny way to comport yourself."
But the mummy didn't respond, because it was dead. After a while, old Robert Halford realized that he had know his purpose all along, and he died, collapsing on the dirt of the road to lie for all time alongside the mislabeled mummy of Walt Disney.
And somewhere, his parents wept. Not for his death, but for his failures.
While conducting interviews as part of the research for your book on policing in LA, you notice that many older interviewees recall inhuman fears on the part of cops. Though initially skeptical, you decide to investigate further and learn of a secret LAPD Monster Squad, thoroughly corrupt, which avoided detection through dark magicks and traditional violent tactics. (Feel free to assign various specialties to the mobsters.) Their ringleader, former Chief of Police William Parker, a vampire, discovers your intention to go public with your discoveries and rallies the elderly but still supernatural squad for one last act of intimidation and brutality. Your parents are sad but reflect that that's what comes of sticking your nose where it doesn't belong.
Following a quarrel with your parents, you, a teenager, run off and, lost, take refuge in a conveniently located cave. Suddenly a ghostly walrus appears before you and sings a cautionary song, while visions of low lives float before your eyes: skeletons getting electrocuted in the chair, witches hooking, junkie mummies, etc. Alas! The song does not have the intended effect, and you spend the rest of your life in the cave, kicking the gong around and trying to learn the walrus's sweet dance moves. Your parents learn of your fate but decline to take you back, rejecting you as a no-good moocher.
||
Amusement parks are hell. Expensive hell.
|>
You died. Your parents were sad. Then, a secret military operation located underneath a UC branch built a Frankenstein monster out of your body. The reanimation of your body disturbed your soul and doomed your ghost to haunt the campus. Through your ghost eyes you witnessed the following events.
[insert season 4 of Buffy here, stipulating that the monsters captured by the Initiative include a medusa and a mummy]
like a young Olivia de Havilland ... everyone has Scottish accents
Hubba hubba.
Amusement parks are hell. Expensive hell.
Truer words. Also: so, so loud.
tl; dr, but it was really fun to write out the whole thing. I miss getting to tell stories to my baby sister!
Robert Halford, age 9, cycled along the dry LA river concrete bed one day, hoping to recreate one of hundreds of movie car chases that end up there, but on his bike. He only had to find a gap in the chain-link fence big enough for him and his bicycle, and he'd be made.
He spied a good-sized hole, squeezed himself through and slid down the steep embankment. He biked for what felt like hours, using the steep sides to gain speed and try out new tricks, ones he knew his parents definitely wouldn't want him doing. And of course, one went, well, badly, and he found himself lying flat on his back with a bruised elbow and scraped side, wheels spinning. From his position, he noticed the opening to a tunnel, probably meant to carry flood water into the dry riverbed. But he thought he saw ... something? what could it be? He had to get a closer look.
He crept closer and closer, sliding into the little tunnel on his belly, when all of a sudden he felt something brushing against his hair -- was it a spider? It was probably a spider. Halford pushed on, noticing that the tunnel smelled funny, but he was drawn to it nonetheless. He slapped at his face, trying to push away the spider, and his hand closed along .... a skeleton hand! BONES! And they were grasping at him, rattling, despite not having a strip of flesh on them. Halford squirmed as fast as he could, kicking out at what turned out to not just be a hand, but an entire skeleton grappling at him. Scared, he closed his eyes, squeezing through until all of a sudden he was in a much larger room.
There was water running, somewhere, and the chamber was a giant sphere, with tunnels leading out in every direction. He crept into the room, seemingly safe from the skeleton of doom. He looked up, wondering where the light was coming from. Far above, a sliver of blue sky showed, and there were rungs leading up. But there was something else, too. It glowed and pulsed, and something green seemed to be dripping off it ... GHOST! GHOST! Halford whipped around, thinking the skeleton had to be better than this disgusting booger of a ghost, but suddenly, he couldn't see the opening he had entered the room through. It had vanished!
As the ghost sped downward, Halford turned and ran, picking a tunnel at random. He ran as fast as he could, chest heaving when he finally skidded to a stop at a junction. Left or right, left or right? His choice was sealed when he caught the smell of decay and death on the air. Slowly, he turned his head left, then right. In the tunnel to the right, there was the slow, unmistakeable shamble of a ZOMBIE! A zombie that wanted only to taste Halford's sweet, sweet brains.
One very quick left turn later, Halford found the sound of the running water. It ran into what looked like a giant water slide, and there was no other way out of the chamber. WIth the zombie shuffling at his heels, he had no choice but to jump in -- whoosh! He was rocketing down the best water slide he'd ever been on. Splash! He ended up in a deep pool in yet another room (how was he ever going to get back to his bike?). Slowly pulling himself up, clothes soaking wet, he searched for a way out. But as he looked, he heard a faint hissing sound. The entire room was full of water snakes, and there, in the corner - there was something larger. He saw a shadow, a faint shadow -- a person, with snakes - for hair? Something from one of his classes told him that it must be the dreaded MEDUSA! And he knew better than to turn around. He crept, back to the monster, until he found the outlines of a door handle, which he turned.
Young Halford threw the door open. All he'd been doing was running, but he couldn't stop now. Especially not when he saw, out of the corner of his eye, a lumbering green man with bolts sticking out of his neck escaping his chains in an alcove. However did FRANKENSTEIN get down here? But don't think about that now. Run, baby Halford, run! He skidded into yet another room, this one that seemed to have been the site of a teenager's TP'ing party. White cloths draped everywhere, spider webs, and was that a casket in the corner? And was the door opening? Was that a hand, wrapped in bandages, poking out? Oh, it was. MUMMY!!
Halford picked up a conveniently placed stick, whacked the lid of the casket closed, and kept on running. He couldn't go forever, though -- he got a stitch in his side, and had to stop. Breathing hard, he put his hand on the wall, only to look up and see thousands of eyes starting back at him. Bats hung upside down in the cavern, all seemingly asleep. Halford froze, hoping that if he was still they wouldn't see him. He crept, silently. Just as he was almost out of the room, his foot slipped and he stumbled. Bam, he went down, his ankle twisted. The noise disturbed the bats. But rather than flying out in a black squeaking storm of wings, they gathered themselves into the shape of a man. Bats into a man -- it could only be DRACULA! The vampire advanced on young Halford, crooning, "I vant to suck your blood" over and over.
Surely, it was all going to be over. Done. Kaput. That's it for Baby Halford. But no! He remembered, suddenly, his silver cross under his shirt. He thrust it out at the vampire, who hissed in surprise and vaulted back. Halford scrambled up and ran, ran, ran. Finally, he saw light, and he thought he must finally have found a way out.
He entered into the light, blinking and saw a beautiful woman holding out a sandwich. A sandwich! Oh, he was so hungry. And she was pretty ... what could go wrong? He stepped up to her and took the sandwich from her hand, biting into it -- only to notice that the hand he had taken it from was webbed. Webbed? How? But before he knew it, he felt himself getting sleepy, very very sleepy. Who was this woman? What had happened to ..... and there were no more questions, as he had passed out. He woke up, hours later in a cage, in an endless row of the same cages. His captor, who was still as pretty as ever, was waiting -- but now she was wearing a pointy hat and had a black cat twining around her ankles. Oh, he had been caught, and by a WITCH!
Later that day, the police found Halford's bike in the canal, and nothing else. Not a trace of a boy. They went to his parents and told them that they feared that he'd drowned in a side channel, and that perhaps a body would turn up in the next few days. His parents wailed and cried, blaming themselves for letting him ride his bike alone.
Meanwhile, poor Halford spent the rest of his days in the witches lair, as a wretched servant fed on scraps and locked into a cage every night. And, every so often, he was sent to the surface, to lure more children into that little tunnel he had crept into so long ago by shaking the skeleton's hand, to add to the witch's collection of children.
44 and 55 are great. The ending of 55 was genuinely scary.
If Halford Jr. isn't a weirdo yet, she sure as hell will be after hearing some of these.
Mummy's alright, Medusa's alright they just seem a little weird.
Surrender! Surrender!
Thus is Halfordismo inculcated in the young.
Just cut to the chase. Tell her she's being adopted in the morning by some people you met at work and she needs to pack whatever she wants in one small paper bag. Then walk out and shut the door.
This is the greatest and best story in the world...
Not long ago me I was in my house
and I walked into a bedroom
All of a sudden, there was a little girl... in the bed
And she said:
"Tell me the best story in the world, or I won't go to bed."
Well I thought about it for a second and said, "Okay."
And I told the first story that came into my head,
Just so happened to be,
The Best Story in the World, it was The Best Story in the World.
Look into my eyes and it's easy to see
One and one make two, two and one make three,
It was destiny.
Once every hundred-thousand years or so,
When the sun doth shine and the moon doth glow
And the grass doth grow...
Needless to say, the little girl was stunned.
Whip-crack went her Whoopy hair,
And the little girl was done.
She asked us: " Be you a zombie, a ghost, a witch, Frankenstein, a skeleton, medusa, a vampire, or a mummy?"
And I said, "Nay. I am but a man."
Rock!
Ahhh, ahhh, ahhh-ah-ah,
Ohhh, whoah, ah-whoah-oh!
This is not The Greatest Story in the World, no.
This is just a tribute.
Couldn't remember The Greatest Story in the World, no, no.
This is a tribute, oh, to The Greatest Story in the World,
All right! It was The Greatest Story in the World,
All right! It was the best muthafuckin' story, the greatest story in the world.
And the peculiar thing is this my friend:
the story I told on that fateful night it didn't actually go anything like this story.
This is just a tribute! You gotta believe it!
And I wish you were there! Just a matter of opinion.
Ah, fuck! Good God, God lovin',
So surprised to find you can't stop it.
And then my parents heard about what a lame story I had stolen from Tenacious D and they felt so sorry that they killed and ate me and became strong like lions.
You may want to make a couple of age-appropriate wording changes.
51: Amusement parks are hell. Expensive hell.
Absolutely. I used to quite enjoy them—even into adulthood when I had kids of my own. And then about 15 years ago or so the scales fell from my eyes. (and I think I've been able to avoid going since.) A lot of schools/communities here (including ours) have a yearly "Kennywood Day." I think it was one too many of those that did.
Of course. And I loved it up until age 40 or so. (And even now it and the other old coasters would be OK on their own, it's the total experience that wounds.
When Halford was younger, not as young as you but much much younger than he is now he liked to sneak off and surf the web in search of a place he might find good arguments with a smart diverse crowd all held in a spirit of good fun and comity. He was very sad because he could only find websites like "Broken Stick" which had really smart people posting but all the commenters liked to do was pick up the stick (even though it was broken) and hit each other over the head with it again and again. Every day there would be a new post by a really smart person saying really smart person things but no one liked to talk about that, they just liked to pick up that stupid stick (even though it was still broken) and hit each other over the head with it which wasn't very much fun at all. But one day he stumbled across an eclectic web magazine called "Uncanny" that had posts on all this crazy stuff like wars of the day and ipods and the latest exercise regimens and where Condoleeza Rice does her clothes shopping and will tenure make my ass look fat in these jeans. It was started by a reclusive Persian water troll and a very pretty alchemist and a guy named Bob. The posts were pretty interesting but the commenters were even better. They were all monsters!
There was the ghost of some famous American philosopher who was born over 200 years ago and who was very smart and interesting everyone liked it when he came around but like all ghosts he eventually faded away.
There were a lot of scientists there so they got together once and made a monster of their own from all the gross bits and pieces hanging around their lab that they didn't get government grants to experiment on yet. It could walk and talk and play the drums and heard it was very good at tennis but they sewed his nose on upside down so he was always sneezing into his eyeballs (which were different colors, and one was from a cat).
There was a double anti-Medusa which is much better than an ordinary Medusa because she had double magics. She had scary snake hair, like all Medusas have, from all the horror she had seen in her long hard life. And like all Medusas if you looked at her it would give you such a fright that it would turn you hard like stone, but her words were magic and if you heard them it would turn you soft and alive and human again.
There was a mummy who was also very smart and was always correcting everyones grammar.
And here was even a witch, PhD and she had a little boy of her own that was just about your age.
Some commenters weren't so great to have around. The zombie was especially smelly and boring and nobody liked him because whatever the topic of discussion was he would always shamble around and start talking about brains. It was always "brains" this and "brains" that. Brains, brains, brains. And he never knew what he was talking about. Even when the topic of discussion was brains he was just plain wrong.
There were lots of other monsters too. Of course there was a scary skeleton who was also a lawyer like Halford and made very good arguments and had a very wry sense of humor, and a very old vampire who watched a lot of Japanese cartoons when he wasn't walking his dogs. There was even an abominable snowman way up north, and a very funny enormous albino whale and many others besides.
The more Halford read the more fascinated and obsessed he became by this wonderful weird place that had such creatures in it all talking to one another in one great big monster conversation after another. And then he started to comment too, sharing his favorite caveman recipes and his great love for Sonny Bono and some enchantress named Pagani Huayra. Halford's mom and dad were very upset. Halford couldn't stop himself from reading the site or commenting there constantly. He was spending all of his time in online conversations with all of the other monsters there and not racking up nearly enough billable hours. Wait, did I say, "other monsters"? Horrors. It was true! Halford looked in the mirror. "Oh no, it can't be, I've grown a... a...oh my god, I've turned into a... a...one of those thi...one those...one of...one of us! One of us! Gooble-gobble, gooble-gobble!"
Most excellent, Barry!
One question: It was started by a reclusive Persian water troll and a very pretty alchemist and a guy named Bob
What's that? Is Unf a very pretty alchemist? I am lost!
66: There was one normal little boy at the site who asked earnest questions on topics such as plumbing, food and the use of archery for self-defense which seemed to amuse the monsters greatly.
OT but not really: From a FB friend:
this is the hardest tongue twister evah: Fly freak flag. Try it. Three times really fast.
re: 70.last
It doesn't seem very hard to me. It's not in the same league as:
http://www.locallingo.com/czech/phrases/tongue-twisters.html
Even English ones, I'd think 'Red lorry, yellow lorry' or 'She sells, etc' are harder.
Maybe 'Fly freak flag' is harder in an English dialect with rhotic vowels, or something?
||
blogging again, for now. http://classifiedsection.wordpress.com
|>
I don't know if Halford's child will like these, but I do.
I'm really drunk, and I've only read till point 2 on the OP, but I love this so much.
An entertainment lawyer decides he must have exercise, but exceeds his limits. After running himself ragged, he then runs astray, with the highway turning to weeds, and then thicker underbrush, until, running deeper and deeper, he finds himself amidst dense, dark trees. Suddenly, all manner of creatures appear: the undead, wraiths, witches, Frankensteins, dead humans absent flesh and viscera, vampires, and mummies (everything the rules require, in the designated sequence). He freaks. His belief in the tenets regarding his ruling the earth with ninja sidekicks leaves him as if it had never existed. He is eaten with relish by the terrible creatures, as his parents (delivered there just then by the creatures) watch with weeping eyes. He can merely gasp, as he is shredded apart: "O!".
He is eaten with relish by the terrible creatures
No mustard, no onions?
Add sport peppers and celery salt for Chicago style Halford.
Apologies for the Goosebumps-sized entry.
One Halloween, when Halford was just a couple years older than you, he was biking home from school and realized he had left his backpack in his locker. His backpack had all his books and candy and baseball cards in it and also his homework assignment, so he biked back to school to get it. Strangely, the school seemed to be locked up -- usually there were teachers around, so this was sort of unusual. He went around to the back entrance, which was open a crack, and went in.
Inside it was surprisingly dark and quiet. Halford was walking towards his locker when he heard something. It was a noise coming from the cafeteria. It sounded like... someone yelling? He decided to see what was going on. He went towards the cafeteria, and there were two kids locked up in cages yelling for help! Halford started walking into the cafeteria, but then he saw Ms. Donaldson, the cafeteria lady. She was wearing a black, pointy hat and stirring a huge iron cauldron. She was a witch! Halford closed the door and thought about how he could get help. This was so long ago that it was before cell phones, and he needed to get an adult to keep Ms. Donaldson from eating those kids!
He went as quietly as he could down the hall. There was music playing in the art room. Maybe there was someone there who could help? He went inside. There were a lot of statues that he didn't recognize in the room. Well, he recognized them -- they were lifelike statues of kids in his school -- but they were all new. Mrs. Brown was singing along to the music. "Hey, Mrs. Brown? Something weird is happening," Halford began. Suddenly, Mrs. Brown's hair stood up on end, swiveled around, and *hissed* at him. Halford knew what that meant, because he had seen "Clash of the Titans" on TV. Mrs. Brown was a medusa! He closed his eyes tight as Mrs. Brown turned around and dived for the door.
He ran for the front entrance. Wait! There was Mr. Johnson, the janitor. He was vacuuming the hall, oblivious to everything that was going on. "Mr. Johnson! Mr. Johnson! Something awful has happened!" Mr. Johnson turned around. His face was all bandaged up, and his eyes glowed with an unholy life. He had been mummified! Mr. Johnson began shambling towards Halford who shrieked and ran to the front entrance. But it was padlocked shut, a blatant violation of the fire code. Halford hammered on the door. Outside, in the darkness of Halloween night, he saw a crowd of older kids. They could go for help. But they were... looking really unhealthy. And they were huddled around a figure on the ground. It was Mr. Peters, the gym teacher, and they were gnawing on him. Oh my gosh, the 5th graders had been turned into a horde of zombies! Halford gasped and backed away.
He thought harder. There was a quarter in his backpack, and there was a pay phone by the front office. If he could only get to the phone, he could call for help. There were more noises in the school by now. Halford didn't want to think about what they were. He made it to his locker without incident and opened it up to get his backpack. "Hey, Halford!" a voice said. It was coming from inside the locker next to his! That was that dweeb Fat Timmy's locker. The voice sounded like Fat Timmy, too. "Halford, is that you? Let me out! Franky Torino locked me in here!" Franky Torino was a bully in the 4th grade. He picked on Fat Timmy, but everyone picked on Fat Timmy, so that wasn't much of a surprise. Even if Fat Timmy wouldn't be helpful in escaping this horrible monster school, he might serve as a distraction.
"Okay, Timmy, what's your combination?" Halford turned the locker -- 24 left, 14 right, 27 left. He undid the locker and opened the hatch -- and a skeleton burst out, grabbing at Halford. "Who's fat now, Halford?" cackled the skeleton, its head careening around. "Come on, Franky!" And Franky Torino shambround the corner -- there were bolts through his next and huge stitches on his forehead. He had been Frankensteined! Halfored screamed at the top of his lungs, threw his backpack at Franky, and knocked Timmy's skull off. He ran down the hall towards the office. When he got there, he decided to call the operator. But just as he picked up the phone, a glowing hand reached through the wall to grab at him. Halford dropped the phone and began running again as the ghost of Mr. Jacobs, the assistant principal stepped through solid brick. Halford ran away, screaming at the top of his lungs. He needed to get out of here! Strangely, everything was quiet as he bolted through the school to the back entrance. He dashed out, gasping for breath. He needed to find someone. He was getting his bike and preparing to ride home as fast as he could, when he saw a woman getting out of her car. It was Mrs. Nunez, the principal!
"Ms. Nunez! Ms. Nunez!" he shouted. "Don't go in there! Something terrible has happened! Everyone's turned into a monster!"
Ms. Nunez laughed. "Don't be silly, Halford! It's the school haunted house. Everyone's dressed up as monsters to raise money for the school trip in the spring. Don't you remember the announcement about it?"
Halford paused. He did remember some sort of announcement about a Halloween activity. "Come on," said Ms. Nunez, "I'll show you." She patted him on the shoulder and opened the back door. The lights were flickering now, and he heard spooky music playing, but... it sounded more like a tape recording. Halford heaved a great sigh walked towards her. He still needed his backpack, after all.
"Oh! Man, that's good makeup! I just about lost my lunch when I saw Mr. Peters with his face getting torn off. And Timmy Katz looked fantastic. And..." Halford trailed off. "Ms. Nunez? How did you do the thing with Mr. Jacobs as a ghost."
Ms. Nunez laughed. "Oh, Halford. It was easy. Let me show you how." Her smile gleamed in the darkness. As she stepped towards him, her teeth started to lengthen. Halford screamed for the last time.
Halford's parents were confused and scared when Halford didn't come home that night. They never saw him again, but *something* came to his house the next evening and left, in the middle of his untouched bed, his blood-splattered backpack.
Ketchup is so deeply ingrained in the local culture that the bartender, who knows I use mustard on fries, won't not bring me ketchup no matter what I order. Maybe everybody but me takes ketchup on chicken wings.
Not that I don't enjoy stories where Halford dies. Sorry for the digression.
I've mentioned before that I grew up in Chicagoland eating "Chicago-style" hot dogs with ketchup on them. Sure, not canonical, but people do it (because it's delicious).
Let's all list the dictators we're worse than.
Tito. The guy in Yugoslavia or the Jackson.
he was biking home from school and realized he had left his backpack in his locker
Somehow it took me several reads to convince myself that this wasn't a topological absurdity.
The importance of topology to narrative structure is often overstated.
The fact that the locker customarily is what is larger than, and contains, the backpack, had temporarily evaded me. I thought the opposite relationship obtained.
What the fuck did you carry to school?
97: another, slightly smaller school.
The judges would have also accepted "the weight of the world."
The bar switched one tv to a show where a bunch of fat guys in chain mail try to catch a small, wild cat. Apparently the Cowboys/Giants suck.
On further review, they made a thin guy put on the armor and do the work. Because late capitalism.
Or something. To be honest, I've never been able to make myself read any Marx.
Violence is inherent in the kitty.
It was a bobcat, so what do you expect.
I always hated it when I forgot my locker in my backpack.
It was a bobcat
Not a Manx? A Marx Manx?
But it was padlocked shut, a blatant violation of the fire code.
One teacher at my middle school had a story about how one day she was grading papers kind of late and when she tried to leave the building all the doors were chained shut and it took her several hours of making phone calls to find someone who could open them so she could go home. It seemed pretty horrifying and it does seem like that must have been illegal.
Now you see the violence inherent in the system.
Fuck. Monty Python quotes. My personal signal for too much to drink.
I bet if you keep drinking, at some point you'll get past the Monty Python quote stage.
As for me, I've had enough to drink that I'm semi-seriously contemplating mailing off a job application to your burgh.
I tried that. I just quote the last season.
112: Really? Send me an email if you have questions. Wait until I'm sober.
I don't know. Depends on whether my girlfriend and I are going to make an active effort now to get a job in the same place, which is not so clear. Also, this particular job ad really looks like it was written with one particular guy in mind (although his girlfriend lives in Seat/tle).
We're just like Seattle in terms of clouds and using Word.
||
I had a very lovely weekend with someone. We met on Friday night and ended spending much of Saturday and Sunday together, too, and we've now made plans for dinner later in the week. Don't want to get too excited prematurely, but at the same time I really am rather smitten.
|>
I've somehow gotten into a situation where I'm going to meet someone every month or so in a city that neither of us live in (but is part way between where we live) so we can spend the day together and yet we're not actually dating.
Something like that, if by "like that" I mean "not like that."
So something not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not 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not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not not 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not not not not not not not not not not not not not notNO CARRIER
I'm not counting to see how the negatives all work out on that.
The outcome in 119 seems like it would bring more closure than the one in 124.
126: Well, yes, but that's a pretty low bar.
Anyway, I of course remain as lonely as ever.
66 and 85 are fun! More stories for children!
Lightning flashed from the turbulent clouds to every pinnacle of the castle, and the blasphemous creation twitched and shuddered into life. The insane vampire scientist turned exultantly from the control panel to his cringing, hunchbacked assistant, Halfordsk.
"I have created what I believe to be an entirely novel form of life!" he cried.
I am also becoming convinced that Halford refers to himself as "Halford" in these stories, and that his daughter addresses him thus as well.
You're captured by monsters who take you back to monster land. They make you camp by a big river, and hang your musical instruments in the poplar trees that line the banks. The monsters keep coming by and tormenting you by asking you to sing the songs of your homeland. (Mostly Beach Boys tunes, in turns out).
Hmm.... too Jewish.
Halford (aged 17) was at the big summit meeting in the disused park after dark. All the other city monster gangs were there: the Skeletons, from the Upper West Side; the Brooklyn Ghosts; the Park Slope Mummies; the Bronxensteins; the Staten Island Witches, the Crown Heights Zombies and the Chelsea Skeletons. And Halford's gang, the Lawyers.
But, just as the leader of the Bronxensteins, Cyrus, was proposing a city-wide truce, he was TURNED TO STONE! Everyone assumed that Halford's gang had done it and they had to escape and evade back to Coney Island (insert lengthy descriptions of battles between the Lawyers and Skeletons with hockey sticks, weirdly seductive Witches, Zombies in clown facepaint, etc.)
In the end, Halford and a few survivors made it back to Coney Island and were eating bacon-wrapped steak with Halford's parents when they heard a clattering noise outside. It was the Skeletons, knocking their fingerbones together and shouting "LAWYERS! Come out and PLAY!"
Halford realised that the Skeletons must have been responsible after all - they had recruited an anorexic medusa into their gang and painted her white so she looked like one of them. Infuriated, he and the other lawyers dashed outside to avenge the death of Cyrus.
But the sun had come up over the ocean, and as its rays touched Halford and the other Lawyers, they burned up and turned to ashes, because THEY WERE ALL VAMPIRES.
Halford's parents were still indoors cooking more steak-wrapped bison, but they were very upset.
No, got them. Which one am I missing? Actually I'm not missing any. OK, cancel the Chelsea gang altogether.
132: Why not? Halford is his real name. Nowadays you can be a gay man and a singer in a rock and roll band, but in the 70s the only careers open to be a gay man were hairdresser, fashion designer, or entertainment lawyer.
[H]airdresser, fashion designer, or entertainment lawyer.
Now, we need a location!
117 is lovely. That's just the best. Never listen to nosflow.
Never listen to nosflow.
New mouseover text? Blog motto? Schism blog name? Weltanschauung?
133 -- The internet does not seem to have a klezmer version of Fun Fun Fun.
141. On the other hand these guys probably do it live.
On an eclectic web magazine not meant for him, Robert Halford encountered one member of the following categories: (1) zombie, (2) ghost, (3) witch, (4) Frankenstein, (5) skeleton, (6) medusa, (7) vampire, (8) mummy.
His daughter was ashamed.
I admire the fact that Halford was able to use his "daughter" to get a whole thread devoted to providing fodder for his fantasy life. He's telling these stories to himself. The sad endings gives him a sense of tragic grandeur.
I thought that more people would have jumped at the chance to create stories of Halford getting maimed.
Stanley: Shouldn't you be live-blogging these dates?
What happened to the time-honored tradition of sharing messy breakups on Unfogged? Have I missed them?
We're through, will! Maybe you should have taken me somewhere nice once in a while!
147: I just do as I'm told. It saves so much time.
Efficiency is the key feature of every healthy relationship.
Thanks all. I will use (substantially modified) versions of Tweety's 44 and Ajay's 134 (can't believe I didn't come up with a Warriors theme yet, that's my favorite movie and source of my long-running recurring dream). I may in fact just read Paren's 55 verbatim without modification, it's so good. I still haven't finished Snarkout's 85.
I assume that Nosflow is making some kind of Anthrax reference, but as usual I'm not too sure what's going on. Congratulations Stanley.
Oh, OK, finished. Snarkout's 85 is great and may get read near-verbatim as well. Thank you internet parenting!
Small Halford daughter, many years later: "Well, my parents looked after me until I was five, then they outsourced it to the cloud."
Could you guys watch her on Friday night so I can go see Iron Maiden in San Bernadino?
Sure. I assume your Skinner box has a webcam?
153: That'll become one of the stories I assume.
Poor Skinner. His kids all swear up and down he was a great, engaged dad, you know!
He gave them candy when they said that.
I'm working on a story where Halford is 67. But other than that he started living life backwards from old to young after swinging so high on a swingset that he looped around the bar, I got nothin'.
You guys take over.
Candy is my weakness. Stupid Swedish Fish.
When you say that explicitness is my weakness, are you saying that I superfluously explained a joke that was already in Tweety's comment?
164: That is what I am implying, because even though Tweety did not explicitly mention a specific reward of any kind, I was thinking (but only after I had made my own quick comment) that someone as always already aware of all internet traditions as Sifu Tweety was probably already thinking of that line of humor and that it in fact served as much of the basis for his making the comment. That's what I was thinking.
(Actually I wasn't sure if he really was, but I decided to err on the side of assuming that he was because that seemed more knowing and made me seem more knowing.)
Jeez Stormcrow, don't you understand that Beamish was making a self-referential joke in 164 about explicitness being his weakness, seeking to lure the non-knowledgeable into the trap of responding explicitly to his self-aware meta-humor? But you fell for it! You provided an explicit response! Which, fuck, so have I.
I know this is like a Reply All storm in e-mail. Everyone quit responding! Right now!
Please unsubscribe me from this mailing list.
SOME MORAN MISCONFIGURED THE LISTSERV.
Or at least the twerking circle.
I can't help noticing the similarity between this thread and the great Cause of Death thread.
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