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Author's Chapter Notes:

Tha calm before the storm, so to speak. Time to leave your seats to go pee and get a slushie refill. Or sit there alone while your friends do.

As the Mayor and his gang of reluctant townsfolk marched up to the mansion, there occurred several incidents, ranging between bizarre, to humorous, to downright scary (and sometimes all three).


The first of these was quite mild. In the center of the path was a bizarre streak of light that stretched from one dead/dying bush to another. It was blue, and looked suspiciously like a bad Hollywood special effect.


Upon seeing it, the crowd slowed to a stop. The Mayor stared at the light for a few seconds, then said, “What the hell is this?”


To his surprise, the light responded: “My name is Shaniqua.”


“Hi Shaniqua!” Shouted the town idiot from the back.


The Mayor shrugged. “Will you let us pass? We’re in a bit of a hurry.”


“Can I have some cornbread first?” Asked the cheap SFX.


Luckily, one of the local housewives happened to carry a bit of cornbread on her person at all times, and the crowd was able to continue.


The second incident occurred ten minutes later, when the town drunk became separated from the group and wandered off on his own. He eventually came to a stream and sat down on a rock to have a beer, only to hear a raspy voice say, “Hey, Bob! There’s a guy over there!” followed by a coughing fit.


The drunk turned around and saw a tree that appeared to have grown around a skeletal man, or possibly out of his head until it covered his whole body and rooted him to the ground. The creature’s eyes were popping out and as yellowed as liver damage, and he did not look like he was in a very comfortable position.


“Aw, don’t look so surprised, kid.” The tree-man went on, seeing the drunk’s stunned expression. “You live in a town with a literal name that perfectly describes the residents and a cardboard cutout Evil Establishment, where a magical man livin’ in an old mansion has the power to summon ghouls, but chooses to spend his time and resources doing elaborately choreographed dances to entertain snot-nosed punks. I’m not so bad, once you get to know me and Bob.” He coughed again. “The name’s Harold. Could you do me a favor?”


The drunk, lapsing into a state of shock, shrugged placidly. Harold went on. “I’ve been feelin’ a little spread out lately. I think Bob here--the tree--has been movin’ around my organs over the years. I think my heart’s somewhere in my roots. If you could go down and stop my heart, that’d be great.”


“You want me to murder you?” Asked the drunk, still impassive.


“Well, I wouldn’t put it that way…” Harold coughed, gasping for breath. “You’d just be doin’ me a favor. I don’t like being stuck here, and the only way for me to get out of this mess is to kill me. Now, are you gonna do it or what?”


The drunk looked down at his beer. “Sweet Lord, I’ll never drink again.” He said, before promptly running away, never to be seen again.


“So much for that, eh Bob?” Harold chuckled. Bob, or Herbert, made no comment, as he was only a tree.


Lastly, the final incident involved the three never-aging adorable moppets, Trevor, Timmy, and Token Black Kid. As to why there only seems to be boys in this town but no girls, is a mystery.


Anyway, the three lads encountered what appeared to be a claymation, fashioned into a suit of armor holding an emotive, shapeshifting white mask thing.


“What are you?” Asked young Timmy, earning him a smack across the head from his older brother.


The mask replied, in a voice like schizophrenia, “An angel.”


“What’s your name?”


In response, the mask morphed half of his face into a grotesque shape. “Satan.”


“Uh oh.” Said the Token.


“What’s the matter?” Asked Satan.


“Nothing.” Trevor cut in nervously. “Its just a sorry name for an angel.”


Satan proceeded to take them on a magical adventure, giving them their favorite fruits and allowing them to populate a small-scale kingdom of clay people. However, the whole thing turned sour when Satan got pissed at the clay folk, who had began fighting over a cow, and destroyed the city, uttering an allegorical message about how humanity is only a single thought in God’s mind or something like that. The kids ran away screaming before he could finish, and were thus traumatized into growing up again. In other words, there will be no more sequels.


At last, the crowd (mostly) made it to Someplace Else in one piece.


“Why can’t we just leave him alone?” Asked the Token Black Kid, as the tired group was forced to rehash the first movie’s dialogue.


Timmy piped up. “Yeah, he hasn’t hurt anybody!”


“It’s your fault, jerk. You just couldn’t keep your mouth shut!” Trevor said, smacking Timmy again.


Their mother smacked him. “He did the right thing.”


“There’s no such thing as ghosts, honey.” Said Token Black Kid’s mom.


“I’m gonna prove it to ya, kid.” The Mayor said. “C’mon--let’s go.”

Chapter End Notes:

The tree creature is Harold from Fallout 3 (in case you didn't notice, he's not mine) and the thing about Satan is a reference to "The Mysterious Stranger", the link for which I have here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=USZGm9GR7ak. Yes, it is as freaky as it sounds, so proceed with caution.

Aside from that, donuts.

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