What You Need to Know About Halloween Is ...

What You Need to Know 
About Halloween Is ...

Photo Source: The Donaldgeorge Productions production
of a Dean Burkey script*. (See the video below.)

Halloween is a sinister ploy devised by candy makers,  costume creators, and dentists.

Put two holes in a designer sheet; and for Halloween, you can be the best-dressed ghost in town.

The problem with being a ghost is: No matter how great you perform, everyone will still say: “Boo!”

But not me boy, if I become a ghost, I’m going to encourage people, and say: “Yay!”

Why do we even need Halloween?  Don’t most of us already spend most of our time pretending to be someone we’re not?

Besides, some folks fear that Halloween is the Devil’s holiday.  

But what’s the problem?

Don’t we want that guy to take a day off?

We might achieve world peace ... if only we could get him to take a two-week vacation.

Naturally, the Devil would spend the whole two weeks in Bermuda.  

Why not?  That is where he keeps his triangle.

Two weeks go by; and he comes back to his evil lair, his abode, if you will,  in the underworld, at the end of the road paved with good intentions, only to discover the first-ever, all-demon glee club.  

(Sing): “La-la-la-la-la-la.”** 

… “Sing.  Sing a song.  Sing out happy.  Sing out strong.”***  

(Speak a la the Devil): “What is going on around here?  I leave for two weeks and suddenly everyone is happy?!  I don’t think so!”  

(Normal): And there’d be one demon there named Ralph, okay, Raphael, but everyone calls him Ralph; and he’d say: 

(Demon Ralph): “Aw man Harry, that’s a much better costume than you had before; you can’t even see the seams; and you sound just like him too.  Ha-ha!  You even have the vein popping out of your forehead just like he does when he’s really -- Oh hey Harry, why’d you switch back to your lousy costume?  And how can you be right here when you’re over there?  Ooooover there.  Ooooooh noooooooo.  He’s baaaaaack.”  

(Devil): “That’s right, I’m back.  Now who touched the thermostat?  It’s way too chilly in here.  And do I?  Do I hear whistling?  No one’s ever whistled here before!  And how can I possibly hear yodeling?  We don’t allow Swiss people in here; they’re God’s new chosen race.  Because they always eat holy cheese.”  

[And yes, that’s a terrible joke, but that’s the kind of so-called gruesome and tragic comedy that abounds at the Devil’s place.  Cheesy jokes, insult humor, and overly realistic and horribly graphic slapstick.]

(Demon Ralph): “Wow, is he mad!”  

(Demon Harry): “So?  What’s he going to do?  We’re already in -- Hello Evil One, welcome back to -- Yeeeowww!”  

(Demon Ralph): “Why do you think he carries around that stupid pitchfork?  Oh, no, no, no, I mean highly intelligent and remarkably fashionable pitch -- Yeeeowww!”

Happy Halloween everybody!

And to all my Lutheran friends: 

Happy Reformation Day!

Blessings & Joy,

Dean

Uploaded by Elliander Eldridge on Jun 1, 2007

* I wrote the script, but as it goes with scripts, some of the material got changed and other things were added. 

** The Smurf Theme Song written by Hoyt Curtin, performed by Mander & One T, featuring The Smurphetz. 

*** Sing written by Joe Raposo for Sesame Street, performed by The Carpenters.

The Wing Man's Revenge

The Wing Man’s Revenge

Photo Source: http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/0070075492

My former best friend and I always fall for the same girl, but he always swoops in and asks her out before I do. 

So I thought I’d prank him real good. 

The next time we met a woman that we both liked, but he really, really liked. 

I married her! 

Showed him. 

After our third child, I told her we could stop, that we’d already pranked “Don Juan” good enough. 

She was all like, “What?! It was all just a prank?” 

I said, “Yeah baby, why do you think I was smirking the whole time I made my wedding vows?” 

“You said you were happy.” 

“Well, duh. I’m always happy to pull off a great prank.” 

She obviously didn’t get the joke. 

So I’m glad things ended between us. 

I can’t stay with someone who doesn’t have a sense of humor. 

Blessings & Joy,

Dean


Published on Mar 4, 2012 by AlexVideoPlayer



 



Coming Wednesday: 
What You Need to Know About Halloween Is ...

It’s No Trick; and It’s More Than Just a Treat!

It’s No Trick; 
and It’s More Than Just a Treat!

Photo Source: Poster Revolution

Of the more than $5,000,000,000,000 in debt into which this country’s sunk in the past four years, what hurts me the most, is that a mere $100,000,000,000, just 2 % of that total, could have eradicated famine in Africa. 

Even the $95,000,000,000 which went to fund the failed projects of those who supported the President could have done the job as well. 

Money wasted on a few could have saved the lives of millions!

What frustrates me about not being rich is that I can’t donate as much I want to help World Vision not only eradicate famine and help others in crises, but to help them become capable of growing their own crops to prevent the famine from happening again. 

You know, the old Teach A Man To Fish, or in this case farm, scenario. 

With World Vision, less than 15 % of the money they receive goes to fundraising, management, and general costs, which means over 85 % goes to help those in need. 

Unlike other organizations where the people line their pockets with 90 % or more, so that less than 10 %, if that much, helps anyone. 

Give where your money will do the most good.

This Halloween, and all year long, donate to feed the hungry, to heal the sick, to clothe the naked, to do good unto Christ as we do good unto His brothers in need*. 

You don’t have to shoot webs or wear Spandex to be a superhero. Just say no to seconds. Skip the jumbo latte. Missing a treat or two won’t mean that much to you, but it’ll mean life to someone else.

You don’t even have to skip treats this Halloween, just remember to help those in need too. So have fun! Have lots of fun! And share with those who need your help to survive. Knowing you’ve helped others will enhance your fun in ways you can’t imagine. 

Blessings & Joy,

Dean


Uploaded by michaeljacksonVEVO on Oct 2, 2009

 





Gifts That Multiply

Where Most Needed

* http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Matthew%2025:%2031-46&version=NKJV

Matthew 25:31-46 

(New King James Version)

³¹ “When the Son of Man comes in His glory, and all the holy^[a]angels with Him, then He will sit on the throne of His glory.³² All the nations will be gathered before Him, and He will separate them one from another, as a shepherd divides hissheep from the goats. ³³ And He will set the sheep on His right hand, but the goats on the left. ³⁴ Then the King will say to those on His right hand, ‘Come, you blessed of My Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world: ³⁵ for I was hungry and you gave Me food; I was thirsty and you gave Me drink; I was a stranger and you took Me in;³⁶ I was naked and you clothed Me; I was sick and you visited Me; I was in prison and you came to Me.’

³⁷ “Then the righteous will answer Him, saying, ‘Lord, when did we see You hungry and feed You, or thirsty and give You drink?³⁸ When did we see You a stranger and take You in, or naked and clothe You? ³⁹ Or when did we see You sick, or in prison, and come to You?’ ⁴⁰ And the King will answer and say to them, ‘Assuredly, I say to you, inasmuch as you did it to one of the least of these My brethren, you did it to Me.’

⁴¹ “Then He will also say to those on the left hand, ‘Depart from Me, you cursed, into the everlasting fire prepared for the devil and his angels: ⁴² for I was hungry and you gave Me no food; I was thirsty and you gave Me no drink; ⁴³ I was a stranger and you did not take Me in, naked and you did not clothe Me, sick and in prison and you did not visit Me.’

⁴⁴ “Then they also will answer Him,^[b] saying, ‘Lord, when did we see You hungry or thirsty or a stranger or naked or sick or in prison, and did not minister to You?’ ⁴⁵ Then He will answer them, saying, ‘Assuredly, I say to you, inasmuch as you did not do it to one of the least of these, you did not do it to Me.’⁴⁶ And these will go away into everlasting punishment, but the righteous into eternal life.”

Footnotes:

1. Matthew 25:31 NU-Text omits holy.
2. Matthew 25:44 NU-Text and M-Text omit Him.

Monster Laughs: The Swinging Tale of the Blue Moon Monkey Man

Next:
Don’t miss this next intrepid tale,
if you’re a true blue fan.
Because the Mystery Hunter battles
the Blue Moon Monkey Man!

Monster Laughs: 

The Swinging Tale
of the
Blue Moon Monkey Man

Three Left Side Photos by Daniel Terry
Right Photo by Dean Burkey

To celebrate Halloween!

(Really just an excuse to promote my book Monster Laughs.)

Here are a few excerpts from chapter 7,
a.k.a. ...

FILE #147:
THE SWINGING TALE
OF THE
BLUE MOON MONKEY MAN

The Mystery Hunter encounters a new menace.
Before he gets himself killed over a blue banana,
the Hunter better solve this case and split!

...

The flight went well; and the capsule crashed safely on the moon. After regaining consciousness, Monkey performed his assigned duties and even illustrated his findings report. The mission proceeded as planned; that is, until the journey home. Dunt, dunt, duhh!

After leaving the moon’s surface, the ship passed through a radiation storm, one of those inexplicable occurrences in nature, such as the aurora borealis, the Bermuda Triangle, and Mister Bing’s third nipple. Bombarded by the cosmic rays, Monkey saw through his suit to his skeleton and decided one banana wasn’t worth the trouble. He aborted the mission as best he could at that point, by refusing to pick up a gallon of milk.

The irradiated rocket crashed into the Seattle apartment of Andrew Pike Edmondson. Clearly, the space team miscalculated the landing site. The capsule was supposed to crash into the Dallas apartment of Arthur Paul Edmunds.

Before dying, the glowing, fluorescent blue Monkey leapt from the capsule and bit Andrew on the neck; and Andy P. Edmondson felt a strange sensation overwhelm him. His body chemistry altered, causing him to transform into a human-sized monkey with blue fur, a crew-cut, and a tail. This new creature, who would later become known as the Blue Moon Monkey Man, felt an urgent urge to eat a banana split, especially since he still had a chance to win the Banana Split Bonus Game.

...

Being a sore loser, the Azure Ape trashed the ice cream parlor with his tail-swinging antics. While most people found that part amusing, the poo-flinging upset everyone. Especially the banker’s wife who caught a fling full force in her face and whose white cashmere jacket became covered in steaming blue monkey dung.

The authorities were summoned, including animal control and extraterrestrial relations, but the Blue-Tailed Being fervently escaped up the fire escape and bounded across the rooftops. No one knew a clue about this guy. So they called me. Blue? Why did he have to be blue?

This is the city: Seattle. “The Emerald City”, a.k.a. “Rainy City”, a.k.a. “Gateway to Alaska”, a.k.a. “Jet City”. The birthplace of grunge music, but only because of a long strike by sanitation workers. Had the garbage trucks kept running, critics might’ve named the new song style Puddle Music.

...

Kafka couldn’t tell me much. Plus, the measly miser never offered me free samples of Rocky Road or Polar Bear Crunch. So I left.

Spent the night figuring how long I should take to solve this case. Sometimes, I save the day right away to build a reputation for expediency. But if I always finish fast, I belittle my field; and make my work seem simple. Besides, the longer I take, the more I make. I should be paid by the case, but most places operate with a time-spent mentality. I once saved the lives on an entire continent by quickly cutting a red wire. (Or was it the blue wire?) Okay. The continent was Antarctica; and there were only three of us. But still, I saved our lives. Since I took only two seconds to do so, the others didn’t think my efforts deserved much compensation. Next time, I’ll let the timer drop closer to zero and negotiate a much better deal. (File #113: “The Antarctica Atomic Time Bomb and Rabid Penguin Ordeal”.)

In the morning, I read the Seattle Times. A fundamental rule in solving paranormal enigmas says: Two supernatural events occurring in the same evening might be more than a coinky-dinky. (The actual rule says “more than a coincidence”, but I like to sound hipper than the psychobabble found in most paranormal investigation handbooks.) A rocket “manned” by a monkey crashed into a man’s apartment; and a block away, a man-sized blue monkey appeared, peeling yellow bananas and flinging poo. Might be more than a coinky-dinky indeed.

...

The accounts from both encounters told of Blue Fur’s fondness for fire escapes. His second time out, he unpeeled another bunch of bananas. So my plan should come to fruition and produce my hoped-for harvest.

To test a hunch, I staked out the fire escape alongside the More-Or-Less Motel. But first, I bought a postcard from the gift shop. To avoid the unpleasantries of another poo-flinging incident, I wore a plastic raincoat over my trusty trench coat. Also figured an umbrella wouldn’t hurt either. Sure hurts if an angry old woman beats you with it. That’s what you get for taking the last bran muffin. But I meant my bringing an umbrella along shouldn’t hurt.

Even at night, the city in summer felt too hot to wear a raincoat over a trench coat. Within half an hour, I felt like I was drowning inside my clothes! But I needed my trusty trench coat. You never hear Batman complaining, “Aw Alfred, Gotham City’s too hot tonight, I’ll just leave my utility belt here in the Bat Cave.”

The squawking of battling birds serenaded me to sleep. But soon, I awakened to “Oo-oo, ah-ah!” when the Chunky Monkey assaulted the blue bananas.

...

“Hey! You can talk.”

“And you can die!” The colorful creature grabbed me by the throat with his feet and dangled me above the alley.

I searched, hoping, wishing, praying I’d find a thorn in his paw that I could remove, so we’d become the best of friends; and I’d survive another night’s work. Maybe my father’s advice adds up. A career in accounting figures far less dangerous. The only thing that could kill me would be boredom. Or an exploding calculator. Nope! No thorn to be found! Looked like my Facebook status was about to change to: Deceased. My last Tweet would be: Argh!

...

...Lots more happens! Including: The account of a spaceflight gone awry. He hires an assistant who keeps having transport trouble. The Mystery Hunter suffers through another awkward encounter. The reason our hero names this villain The Blue Moon Monkey Man. The Hunter literally hangs on for dear life. Will the Cause of Death for the Hunter be listed as sweaty palms? Personally, I hope he survives, because his next adventure is my favorite!

... To read more of Monster Laughs, read the sample from the Kindle edition here.

... To read the rest of this chapter, buy the Kindle edition here for only ninety-nine cents!

... If you don’t have a Kindle reader, get a Free Kindle Reading App here.

... Buy the print edition here for only $9.95, plus shipping, unless you qualify for free shipping.

... Zany, quirky, funny, fun. For teens and adults.

Blessings & Joy,

Dean

See also: Monster Laughs Disclaimer ..., "Monster Laughs" Table of Contents, "Monster Laughs!" - Back Cover Copy, Monster Laughs Songliography, Monster Laughs: Frankenstein's Monster Bolts Loose!, Monster Laughs: Doctor Jekyll & Ms. Hyde, Monster Laughs: Unraveling the Mystery of the Mummy, and Monster Laughs: Skinny Dipping with the Creature from the Blue Lagoon.

Shop Amazon - 2012 Holiday Toy List

Monster Laughs: Skinny Dipping with the Creature from the Blue Lagoon

Monster Laughs: 

Skinny Dipping
with the Creature
from the Blue Lagoon

Three Left Side Photos by Daniel Terry
Right Photo by Dean Burkey

To celebrate Halloween!

(Really just an excuse to promote my book Monster Laughs.)

Here are a few excerpts from chapter 6,
a.k.a. ...

FILE #146:
SKINNY DIPPING
WITH THE CREATURE
FROM THE BLUE LAGOON

Cannibals, pirates, and sharks, oh my!
Also, lost treasure, a whale, a gorilla,
a navy seal, and a couple grabby blue crabs.
And let’s not forget the web-footed horror
of the amphibious Creature!
Does the Creature want to kill the Hunter?
Or are his desires a fate worse than death?
What else would you expect
during mating season at the Blue Lagoon?

Please Note: The Bracketed Numbers refer to the
Monster Laughs Songliography.

The Creature from the Blue Lagoon resembled his cousin, the creature from another lagoon, but varied in appearance only as much as needed to avoid a copyright infringement suit. And he was blue. He resented his cousin’s film success. Although Hollywood made movies about the Blue Lagoon, none included the Creature. Poor Fish Face, the breaks never came his way. Until he crossed my path; and I broke one of his fins.

This is the city: Blue Lagoon, Thanksgiving Island. Blue Pearl of the South Pacific. Isle of Paradise. {1} Ah, but every Paradise houses a troublesome reptilian intruder. Granted, Gill-Boy’s an amphibian, not a reptile, but I took poetic license. But how dare I make such a claim when none of that rhymed? Hmm. Seldom shown on maps, Thanksgiving Island is a tiny isle located in the South Pacific between Easter Island and Christmas Island. But much closer to Christmas Island. No one would know of its existence if not for seven stranded castaways whose plans for a three-hour tour lasted three seasons, not counting sequels and cartoon spin-offs.

...

The Crabby Creature Feature served as a legend around Thanksgiving Island for decades, but recently became such a nuisance, the council called me to take care of him, because they voted him off the island. The Fishy Fiend scared a few high schoolers sailing late at night, tore some tuna fishermen’s nets, and tried to impregnate a dyed-blue poodle who wandered too close to the water.

I searched the local files to figure out what happened to summon him forth. Tourism for Thanksgiving Island reached an all-time low. (Perhaps due to not being on major maps.) A gold doubloon purportedly part of Bluebeard’s treasure washed ashore. And this was mating season.

Argh! Alone at the Blue Lagoon during mating season! What could be worse? Imploding into a kajillion pieces. Being eaten by sharks. Or rabid bunnies. Being violated by amorous squirrels with buck teeth. Okay, some things are worse, but still. Must my being heroic mean I must wallow alone? Superman has Lois Lane. Spider-Man, Mary Jane. Despite my despair and loneliness, I know my true love will come to me soon.

Meanwhile, I had a case to solve. Experience told me that the alleged Devonian Monster could be a hoax bandied about to beef up tourism. Or scare off treasure hunters. But then again, Bluebeard’s gold could be another tall tale to lure visitors to Thanksgiving Island. A double whammy. Monster hunters and treasure seekers would feel drawn to spend their vacation dollars here. And the islanders would indeed give thanks.

No one sober had seen Puddle Puss, so I must assume he’s a fabrication to attract people to the island and/or keep them away. Thought I saw a blue hand, but with water in my eyes, late at night, while shivering. Was that Swimming Swoosher, Blue Gills? Maybe a killer whale got separated from his pod, ‘cause I heard his longing call close to shore.

My next move seemed obvious: Eat waffles! Then meet Baba-Luau, so we can investigate supposed sightings of Blue Boy. Prove he’s a myth. And find the treasure!

...

I feigned laughter and suggested we separate to cover more ground. After hiking half a mile away from my trigger-happy assistant, I smelled day-old fish and found weird, wet, webbed footprints leading from the shore into the woods. Weird, wet, webbed feet? Must be a diver searching for Bluebeard’s treasure. Would be too easy if I walked right into. Gulp! The Walking Wet Nightmare! We fared to find a Finned Fiend; and what a fine Finned Fiend I found. Say that ten times fast.

The Wet Head jumped from the bushes.

...

The Seafood Entrée with a Bad Attitude stood a foot and half taller than me. Covered with blue, hard, pointy scales with odd blue fins sticking out here and there. The Blue Lagoonatic’s got lifeless eyes. Like a doll’s eyes. Like Kay when she changes personalities. Or Uncle Kenny before his morning cup of coffee. Or his daily dose of lithium.

I smiled, ready to unload seven, count-‘em, seven, rounds into his chest. I reached into my trusty trench coat for my marble-handled, custom-made, sure-shot, seven, count-‘em, seven-shooter. I reached again. And again! Old habits linger on life support. Too bad Band-Aid Boy, I mean, Gauze Girl, turned my marble-handled, custom-made, sure-shot, seven, count-‘em, seven-shooter with the bent end into Furina Crocodile Chow in the Nile River. Oh-oh. Although not wanting to die, I felt relieved Captain Gills only wanted to kill me.

But just when I thought it was safe to be murdered by a homicidal maniac, ...

...

One good thing about steel-heel shoes with soft inner soles? They kick hard. So I mule kicked over and over. I broke free and one of his fins. Gill Guy climbed the boulder and emitted a loud, mournful cry. Like the screeching of an alley cat in heat. Or a used-car salesperson when you park on his pinkie toe. (Don’t ask me how I know.) With my clothes tattered around my ankles, I tripped and fell. Scampering to my feet, I stumbled out of the woods. But the Lagoony Loony caught me and flung me into the cove like a quarterback throwing a touchdown pass.

One bad thing about steel-heel shoes with soft inner soles? They make you sink. Fast! The salt water stung the lacerations on my back where the Sea Slob’s claws shredded my trusty trench coat, royal blue shirt, khaki pants, and Spider-Man Underoos. I held my nose to stabilize my air pressure. Although I couldn’t see clearly, I made out the form of a mako shark hoping to make o’ meal out o’ me.

To swim upward, I kicked off my sure-footed, steel-heel shoes with soft inner soles. Silly me always wanting to breathe. Like a distant, shimmering cloud, the surface hovered above me.

The man-eater circled once and rushed at me with its jaws agape, so I promptly covered my privates with my left hand. Didn’t want more stitches there! As the sea predator zoomed at me, I prepared to punch his eyes and snout with my right fist. Before the mako could munch on me, CBL dove in and punched him for me! Although flattered Happy Gills saved my life, I hoped he knew he still wasn’t getting any action. Not from me.

With the two finned foes fighting, I swam toward the surface owing to my being deathly allergic to a lack of oxygen. Underwater for over a minute. My lungs felt like they would burst. I couldn’t judge the distance. Was I thirty feet away? Twenty? Ten? My hands broke the surface. But before my head could, a blow to the gut knocked the remaining wind out of me. Bye-bye consciousness.

...

Monster Laughs Songliography

(A List of Songs Mentioned, Referenced, Quoted, Misquoted,

Paraphrased, Parodied, and/or Spoofed by The Mystery Hunter)

Song Title(s)

- Songwriter(s).

1 “Isle of Paradise”
- Lyrics by David O. Joseph,
Felix Gauder, & Susan Rafael
& Music by Felix Gauder & Susan Rafael.

2 “Blue Christmas”
- Billy Hayes & Jay W. Johnson

3 “Blue Suede Shoes”
- Carl Perkins

4 “Bluer than Blue”
- Randy Goodrum

5 “Blue Moon”
- Richard Rodgers & Lorenz Hart.

... This stitch-busting adventure is the most frightening chapter so far! And laughs abound too. Lots more happens! Including: The Mystery Hunter’s skinny dipping in cold water ends horribly for him. Blue is no longer his favorite color! Two supporting characters from the previous adventure vacation at the Blue Lagoon looking for treasure. Cannibals versus pirates. Although a homicidal amphibious monster, the Creature does his best to woo the Hunter. Doctor Jekyll’s taunts haunt our hero. And the Hunter does his best to escape! But is his best good enough?

... To read more of Monster Laughs, read the sample from the Kindle edition here.

... To read the rest of this chapter, buy the Kindle edition here for only ninety-nine cents!

... If you don’t have a Kindle reader, get a Free Kindle Reading App here.

... Buy the print edition here for only $9.95, plus shipping, unless you qualify for free shipping.

... Zany, quirky, funny, fun. For teens and adults.

Blessings & Joy,

Dean

See also: Monster Laughs Disclaimer ..., "Monster Laughs" Table of Contents, "Monster Laughs!" - Back Cover Copy, Monster Laughs Songliography, Monster Laughs: Frankenstein's Monster Bolts Loose!, Monster Laughs: Doctor Jekyll & Ms. Hyde, and Monster Laughs: Unraveling the Mystery of the Mummy.

Halloween Fun: Breakfast of the Living Dead

Photo by Brad Hudson

Please Note:

The picture above has nothing to do with the story below,

except that it shows the author fleeing from marine life gone bad.

Please Note: 

This humorous fiction / horror parody 

may not be appropriate for children under 13. 

Thank you,

Dean Burkey

Halloween Fun: 
Breakfast of the Living Dead
(From my book: Seasons Without Reason)

That’s one tasty apocalypse.

Can a man wearing Spider-Man pajamas,

bunny slippers, and a stained terrycloth robe

stolen from a Motel Six

be mankind’s only chance at survival?

Photo Source: Seasons Without Reason

Nothing smells better than the aroma of sizzling bacon.  Unless that aroma’s combined with the stench of death.  But that’s true of any scent.  The way Ritz claims anything tastes great on their crackers, anything reeks when combined with the Stench of Death.  That’s a sad fact of life.  Or death.  Especially the Living Dead.  Those guys romp around all night, never bothering to wash their hands, shower, or even use a moist towelette.  No wonder they stink.  That and the oozing, gaping holes in their rotting flesh.  Nasty!  Spritz on a little Febreze.  Gargle with Listerine.  Something!

As my wife fried a slab of bacon, the sizzles and scent-sations attracted a moaning mob of the infected ones, the unfortunates who contracted the Z-Virus, a.k.a. the Zombie Flu.  Get a clue, Z-Freaks!  If your stench causes people to retch, don’t moan.  It’s either or.  You can’t be both stinky and noisy.  That’s not right.

A snarling infected truck driver burst through the kitchen window and lunged at my wife.  Blam!  A quick shot to the forehead from my snub-nosed revolver transferred him to the ranks of the Dead Dead.  That’s the fifth one this morning; and I still haven’t gotten my eggs and bacon.

Two more Zoms smashed through the living room window and reached for me.  Blam!  One down, one to go.  Blam it!  I forgot to reload.  The sizzling of the bacon lured me into la-la land.  I dodged and ducked, bobbed and weaved.  Wove?  She proved strong, but I moved fast.  Yes, she.  I knew I couldn’t die at the hands of a lady zombie, not when I served as the Second Deputy of the Zombie Defense Force in Chapter Seven of Sector 4-A, Region 5.  I’d never live that down.

Crash!  I smashed a vase over her head.  Slowed her down a second or so.  Long enough for me to grab my jacket, yell to my wife, “Thanks anyway, I’m gonna eat out!” and dart away.

Bad move.  Zombies love bacon.  They may be brain dead.  But they’re not stupid.  Plus, with all the prowling they do; they don’t need to worry about cholesterol.  Besides, the medical community hyped most of that beyond reason anyway.  Probably backed by the tofu industry.  As if anything could ever convince us to try Tofacon.  A.k.a. bacun.

Too many too count.  I could only dash and dart so long on an empty stomach.  I needed a better plan than a hellacious game of Hide-and-Seek.  Like a deadly game of dodge ball.  Terror tag. Snarling, savage, mindless beasts.  Was this really the future of mankind?

Oops!  That one almost caught me.  Living Dead or not, a kick to the groin still dropped ‘em to their knees.  Yuck!  The goober leaned forward and snapped his bony biters at my goodies!  Too close for comfort.  Certainly not without a movie and dinner first.  And I’d definitely have to like the movie.  And the dinner.  Perhaps a light comedy.  And filet mignon.  Or anything wrapped in bacon!  But you’d better not smell rancid.  At the very least, buy a magazine and rub the perfume sampler on your face.

Danger abounded around me.  I wish I had worn Depends.  I couldn’t keep running.  But life couldn’t end like this!  Not humanity.  Not me!  But if this were the end, might as well go out with a smile.  I doubled back and headed home.  I found a couple trash can lids and used those to keep gruesome teeth and groping hands at bay.

An intriguing thought stormed into my throbbing skull.  I was humanity’s last hope!  Could that be?  Can a man wearing Spider-Man pajamas, bunny slippers, and a stained terrycloth robe stolen from a Motel Six be mankind’s only chance at survival?  Not without his breakfast he can’t.

Blam!  Blam!  Blam!  Bullets whizzed past me.  One of which knocked the trash can lid out of my left hand.

“Stop shooting, honey!  It’s me!”

“I know!”  My bitter half crouched and aimed.  “That’s why I’m shooting at your winkie and not your skull.”

I gulped and held the last trash can lid over my happy place.  Urine oozed out of the target in her sights.  I knew renewing our vows hadn’t solved anything.

She slowly squeezed the trigger.

Good thing for me a couple zombies jumped her and deflected her shot.  Saved my goodies.  And saved me the cost of a divorce attorney.  That was, if we ever regained civilization.

“Thanks, guys.”

The two zombies snarled in response.  I think they tried to say “You’re welcome.”  Or maybe they prayed for their food since they proceeded to devour my wife.  She thought I didn’t know about her affair with the out-of-work welder across the street.  But I knew they made sparks.  Ladies, learn this lesson well: If you cheat on your man, he’ll be less likely to save you when zombies attack.

I dashed into the kitchen and savored the bacon.  Mm-hmm.  Delectable delight!  Why do they even call it bacon, when it’s fried?  Why not call it fryin’?

Zombies surrounded the house.  I gazed out the broken kitchen window while chomping my last bite of bacon.  Glad I grabbed the gun from my wife when the zombies had her for breakfast.  I held the barrel to my temple.  Today was a good day to die.  I had bacon.

I slowly squeezed the trigger.  But then I stopped.  I found another piece of bacon left on my wife’s plate.  Ate that.  Bite by bite.  Said goodbye to life again.  Ready to die.  Figured I was either brave.  Or a coward.  Maybe both.  I’m not afraid to die.  I’m just not keen on being torn asunder by savage zombies and becoming a newly sponsored member in the Club of the Living Dead.  Club Dread.  A half-zombie hurled herself through the window.  I quickly put the gun to my head and fired.

Click.

You kidding me?  My wife wasted all our ammo trying to kill me?!

I ducked.  Turned out the half-zombie was my wife.  I recognized the scowl.  I noticed too, that she’d done something to her hair.  Green highlights?

The infected turned fast.  College experiment gone awry.  Pinchuck University tried to find a way to eradicate cancer.  Instead they created the Z-Virus.  I darted out the backdoor and scurried into the street.  Yanked open a sewer cover and ducked inside.  Phew!  What an odor!  Thanks, P. U.

At the end of the Tunnel of Sludge, I hotwired an abandoned SUV.  Ford Explorer.  Torch red with a camel interior.  Drove to a nearby naval base.  The last bastion of humanity.  I didn’t even know that.  But I heard they made great bacon.  Everyone in town’s heard of Chief Commissary Steward “Stingray” Stinson’s bacon breakfasts.  Worth dying for.  Which was my plan.

After being hosed down and doused with Febreze’ Meadows & Rain, I told Colonel Robert “Bobcat” Hopkins we should fry a massive amount of bacon to lure the zombies into a trap, blast them with firebombs, and destroy the virus.

Crazy thing was, that plan worked.  I didn’t think it would.  I just wanted ‘em to fry more bacon.  Turns out I was humanity’s last hope after all.

Thanks, Oscar Mayer.

     

Blessings & Joy,

Dean

P. S. Seasons Without Reason is available at Amazon.com in print for only $6.95 and on Kindle for only $0.99! Even if you don’t own a Kindle, you can read still read the Kindle edition of Seasons Without Reason and my other Kindle books by using a Free Kindle Reading App by clicking this link or the banner below: 

Monster Laughs: Unraveling the Mystery of the Mummy

Next:

Although taking on the tag team of terror
proved truly traumatic for the Mystery Hunter,
he messes with many a menace
as meeting the Mummy makes him
face his gravest fears so far!

Monster Laughs: 
Unraveling the Mystery of the Mummy

Three Left Side Photos by Daniel Terry
Right Photo by Dean Burkey

To celebrate Halloween!

(Really just an excuse to promote my book Monster Laughs.)

Here are a few excerpts from chapter 5,
a.k.a. ...

FILE #145:
UNRAVELING THE MYSTERY
OF THE MUMMY

The Mystery Hunter faces more horrors
than he’s ever imagined.
Is the Mummy out for revenge?
Or just running a pyramid scheme?

Please Note: The Bracketed Number refers to the
Monster Laughs Songliography.

Professor Horace Howard Hornsby, some poor sap of an archaeologist, disturbed Im-In-Step’s tomb, which made the Mummy moan and groan and attack everyone on the excavation team. That’s so him. But what’s Band-Aid Boy’s problem? You’d think he’d be bored silly after lying around, doing nothing for over three thousand years. On the plus side, stalking and destroying an archaeological team is aerobic. So at least he’s stretching his legs a bit. And airing out his nasty, stale grave cloths. The Mummy’s Curse becomes a lot less threatening after he gets a fresh change of bandages. After a few millennia, he develops quite a pungent odor. I’d never say that to his face. He’d wail and moan all night in that annoying way that he does.

This is the city: Cairo. Although translated “The Vanquisher” or “The Triumphant”, to many tourists, Cairo means “Crowded”. The capitol city of Egypt. The most populous metropolitan area in Africa; and the 16th in the world. But they try harder. A lot harder. But with an odoriferous Mad Mummy on the loose, this place sphinx.

Professor Triple H and his World Wonder’s Excavation (WWE) team fled Doozer’s Pyramid in Saccharin and came to Cairo, only to be followed by the vengeful Dune Buffoon who hid inside a laundry truck. Ho-Ho-Ho waited until the Hieroglyphic Horror murdered two members of his team before he called me. (He got to the bargaining stage a corpse quicker than the folks who called me in File #141: “Count Dracula Sinks His Teeth into the Big Apple”.) I came for the adventure, the call to duty, and the paranormal paycheck, but as soon as I landed, I looked for love. Sick of supermodels and still ambiguous about schizophrenic amazons, I decided to pursue a not entirely unappealing, petite and getting smaller by the day, beggar lady who lived in the alley two blocks from my motel. The Sands Motel in Cairo. Not a building; a huge pile of sand. A bit pricy at $249 a night. But conveniently located in the desert. At high noon, the mirages glistened gloriously.

Ah, Lucretia. Lucretia had a way of being Lucretia. Unlike other sand-covered lepers; who weren’t Lucretia. How ironic her name means Gain, since she loses more of herself every day and washes her laundry with Tide. Although she suffered in the latter stages of leprosy, the parts of her that still lingered looked lovely in lacy lingerie. Or maybe I felt lonely. Big surprise; huh? A Mystery Hunter feeling lonely. The Hunter prowls alone. I used to rationalize such despair as solitude. Woo-hoo! Solitude! But not anymore. Boo-hoo! Solitude.

Maybe Serena was right. Maybe I am “a freaky little fool in an over-sized coat full of goofy gadgets who can’t solve the mystery of himself, much less anything else”. Should I take such cruel words spoken in anger to heart? But why was she mad? Where did I go wrong with her? My monstrous charisma and hunter’s mystique always made her feel so secure. Whenever she saw me, she shouted, “Security! Security!!”

...

Since my nerdy assistant conned his way into Camille’s heart, I snapped into action and posted pictures of Tim “Conway” Twitty in places Pharaoh Scare-Oh visited. A caption emblazoned atop the photos read: “Here’s the One Who Excavated Im-In-Step’s Crypt. Yes Sir, If I Were a Vengeful Mummy, This Is the Guy I’d Attack!” Woo my woman, would he? Never again! Not only would I get my revenge and make Camille available, I’d acquire free labor using the Tim-ster as involuntary bait.

...

My plan backfired when T. Nelson Twitty got mobbed by gorgeous gals who thought he was “The One” and wanted to get him, get him. Or did that cryptic relic really work?

“Hey! You’re right ex-Boss!” twittered Mister Twit. “This is a lucky charm!”

“You crazy kid! Whatcha gonna do when the Carpolator catches you?”

Timmy gulped. Again with the gulping. “Here.” He handed the pickle-shaped doodad back to me. “You need this more than I do.”

“Thanks?” I rubbed the relic all over my body, with a dab or two behind each ear, in the hopes of releasing aphrodisiacal pheromones. “Okay, ladies, here I am!”

Throughout the room resounded a rousing, high-pitched, “So?!”

Asked a couple cuties on the cusp of the cute crowd crowding Conway, “I have the lucky charm; why are you still after him?”

“Because he’s the one who excavated Im-In-Step’s crypt!” said the one.

“Being vengeful mommies, he’s the guy we should attack,” said the other.

Pulled a picture out of my pocket and reread the caption: “Here’s the One Who Excavated Im-In-Step’s Crypt. Yes Sir, If I Were a Vengeful Mommy, This Is the Guy I’d Attack!” Mommy?! The spiteful Spell Checker checks whether you spelled each word correctly, not whether you used the correct ward. See what I mean?

...

Ah! The Mummy! He killed three team members. Add in the Marcie mishap; and that’s four down with three to go. Make that four, since I somehow moved to the top of his hit list.

“Hello, Mummy! Sorry I never call.” I acted cool to avoid a massive panic and sang, “M is for the Many Men you’ve Murdered. U is for the Underarm deodorant you should use.” {1} My act didn’t even fool me. My life flashed before my eyes. I wept. Like a baby. Minus the messy diapers.

Why must the Hunter prowl alone? Who would be crazy enough to love me? Crazy enough? Kay! I yanked out my cell and called The Asylum to leave a message for her on her rubber room voicemail: “Love you, bye!”

Turned to face my demise at the wretched hands of the Rampaging Raggedy Man. I wiped away my tears and pled, “Go ahead. I’m not afraid.”

...

Monster Laughs Songliography

(A List of Songs Mentioned, Referenced, Quoted, Misquoted,

Paraphrased, Parodied, and/or Spoofed by The Mystery Hunter)

Song Title(s)

- Songwriter(s).

1 “M-O-T-H-E-R
(A Word That Means The World To Me)”
- Lyrics by Howard Johnson
& Music by Theodore F. Morse.

... Lots more happens! Including: The Mystery Hunter involuntarily dirty-dances with the Mummy. Our hero awakens alone in the midst of the dessert as the sun rises. His lucky charm isn’t what he thinks it is; and yet it still makes an Osiris nun smile. The Mummy problem multiplies like crazy. The Mystery Hunter gets trapped inside a sealed crypt! He faces his fiercest fears so far! Will the Hunter who prowls alone die alone?

... To read more of Monster Laughs, read the sample from the Kindle edition here.

... To read the rest of this chapter, buy the Kindle edition here for only ninety-nine cents!

... If you don’t have a Kindle reader, get a Free Kindle Reading App here.

... Buy the print edition here for only $9.95, plus shipping, unless you qualify for free shipping.

... Zany, quirky, funny, fun. For teens and adults.

Blessings & Joy,

Dean

See also: Monster Laughs Disclaimer ..., "Monster Laughs" Table of Contents, "Monster Laughs!" - Back Cover Copy, Monster Laughs Songliography, Monster Laughs: Frankenstein's Monster Bolts Loose!, and Monster Laughs: Doctor Jekyll & Ms. Hyde.