Friday, December 24, 2010

Mr. Gable's: Twas the Night Before Christmas (Merry Christmas Everyone!!!)

I just want to take this time to wish all of my readers a Merry Christmas! Please be safe and I hope you get all the crap you don't need on your list. I know I am!

The Greatest Christmas Movie of All Time: Santa's Slay.

And I also want to let everyone know that I'm going to take next week off from blogging. Just a short vacation from everything to end out the year. It's been an amazing time meeting all of you and shooting the shit about everything. I can't wait until 2011. It's going to be an amazing year, let me tell you. I have some pretty crazy plans and I hope you'll all be here to join me. Some ideas include...Better Reviews (with some kind of badometer), All Day Leprechaun Marathon (for St. Patty's Day), All Day Puppet Master marathon (if I don't go insane), a Bad Movie Battle Royal, and of course another 31 Baddest Days of Halloween. (To be determined)

To end out the year and to celebrate the Holiday Season I present to you this poem...

Mr. Gable's: Twas the Night Before Christmas

‘Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the basement
Mr. Gable was drunk and watching something demented
The stockings were hung by the TV with care,
In hopes that bad movies soon would be there.

The wife was asleep, passed out on Jim Beam
While images of topless chicks danced on the screen.
I slammed down the rum, let out a hiss,
Rose to my feet, I needed to piss!

When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I grabbed my (sawed off double barreled) Remington to see what was the matter.
Away to the front lawn I stumbled real slow,
And pumped two rounds into the fresh fallen snow.

I stumbled and grumbled, no clue where I was,
I sure could use the help of Chuck Norris.
When, what to my blurred vision should appear,
But a miniature sleigh, and eight tiny men with beards.

I fed two more rounds into the cold chamber
I missed the sleigh and hit my Ford Ranger.
That fat old man, so lively and quick,
He’s trying to escape! That guy that looks like St. Nick.

“Now, Campbell! Now, Statham! Now, Lundgren and Austin!
On Arnold! On Willis! On Stallone and Rutger Hauer!
To the top of the porch! To the top of the wall!
We’ll teach that asshole not to fuck with us all!”

They hurried off the roof and jumped to my sides,
Surrounding me tightly, I relieved myself and sighed.
They laughed and howled, pointed and smiled.
I knelt to the ground and cried like a child.

My fear subsided and courage swelled within me.
This happens all the time in the movies.
I stood up proud, whipped out my gun,
“Come now motherfuckers! Let’s have some fun!”

I wasted the first three with one shotgun shell
Then Bruce Campbell attacked with his chin from hell.
I fell backwards, dazed, confused, and sick.
An obvious distraction, for a roundhouse kick.

I knocked them all out, I was the victor
Except Santa Claus and his last actor.
It was Arnold the Great, my only idol.
I was bound to kill him, choppas and all.

I activated my shoulder mounted laser.
Then he attacked me with his Star Trek phaser.
I laughed till I cried, However crude.
Never in my life had my dreams come true.

Arnold loved my laugh and sided with me.
We vowed to kill Old Claus, by golly.
Santa was quick and light as a feather.
But Arnold and I were worse than the weather.

We beat him and bruised him, cut up his face.
He escaped our clutches with a red can of mace.
Good Old St. Nick jumped in his sleigh
Powered by Dilithium and not by hay.

But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,
“Fuck you Gable! I’ll come back later tonight!
My army is many, I have a ton
With the likes of Jet Li and Charles Bronson!”

I looked to the sky and shouted with glee,

“Come get some Santa! You can’t fuck with me!”


And that’s when I woke up on the couch in the basement to the end credits of Battle Queen 2020. That movie will fuck with your mind.


SHORT STORY: Zombie Santa Must Die! Part 6 & 7



Fay sprinted up the spiraling staircase that spun around the outer wall of the tower, anxiety and excitement coursing through her veins. At the top, there was a door, arched to the top with a wreath decorating its face. She reached for the knob, twisted, and slid the door open.
      The room inside was magnificent. It stretched out the entire length of the tower. One giant donut nestled atop a tower of legos. At first glance there was nothing whatsoever that occupied the space at the top of Santa’s tower. No furniture, no equipment, nothing.
      Fay felt dizzy and her body swayed backward, nearly tripping on the staircase and falling to her death.
      “Fay stop! Go back!” It was her brother Eddie’s voice she heard.
      The sound of his voice charged her, got her adrenaline pumping. She sprang back to life and entered the room. Across the floor was her brother, badly beaten, bloody, and tied to a support beam. Standing next to him was the dreaded Santa Claus.
      “Welcome Fay, I didn’t think you would make it,” Santa said with a smirk.
      “I’m tougher than I look,” she responded. She then pointed a finger at her brother, “I’ll be taking him now.”
      Santa took a step back, brought both hands up to his face as if to say, no don’t shoot. “Fine, take him. I won’t stop you.”
      Fay took three steps towards him and stopped. She tried to speak but foamy fluid began to seep its way through her throat and waterfall out of her mouth. It splattered to her chest like a gentle forest rain. Fay attempted another step but collapsed to the floor.
      Santa took a step forward, casting a curious eye at the fallen Fay.
      She began to moan, not a sickly moan or even a painful moan, but a hungry moan. She lifted herself from the floor and stood to her feet.
      When her eyes opened, the humanity that had once lived there had been erased, what was left was a deep dark void, straight down into her soul. This thing that stood before Santa and Eddie was but a representation of Fay, a picture image, but it was no longer Fay. It was a monster. A zombie.
      “What did you do to her?” Eddie demanded.
      “She’s one of us now. Once she’s finished with you, I will make her my queen. We will rule this planet as Mr. and Mrs. Claus. FOREVER!”
      “You’re insane.”
      “No, I’m in love.”
      Fay staggered towards them, closing the gap between her and her destiny.
      “Fay please,” Eddie pleaded, “you can fight this, I know you can. You just have to believe in it.”
      “It’s no use boy, she’s converted. The extra stimulation from running from Frosty and jogging up the stairs made the process accelerate far quicker than normal. It’s too late.”
      Fay marched forward, never taking her deep ravenous gaze off Eddie. “Please Fay, fight. Fight dammit FIGHT!”
      It was as if she couldn’t hear him. Her tongue flopped from her mouth and lapped wildly against her chin.
      “Fay, remember when we were kids,” Eddie said as she closed the gap now to a mere twenty feet, “and every Christmas we would get up at the same time,” eighteen feet, “and get downstairs before mom and dad had a chance to wake up?” Fifteen feet.
      Santa cocked an eyebrow, “What are you doing boy?”
      Eddie ignored him, “Remember how mad they always got that we had half our presents opened before they even got downstairs,” she was ten feet away now, “but we would never open up the presents from Santa Claus. Oh no those were special presents, only for the family.” Eight feet. “Back then we believed in Santa Claus, we believed in what he was and what he stood for,” five feet, “Giving, Thankfulness, Hope, Charity, and most importantly Family.” Three feet. Eddie could smell the stench of her breathe now. She was opening her mouth, any moment now she would force her jaw onto her brother and consume his flesh.
      “But you lost something Fay. Something important.”
      She was one foot away. Her hands grasped Eddie’s shoulders. In mere seconds, his life expectancy would be drastically shortened.
      “Please Fay, fight this won’t you. Fay? Please won’t you, just have a little Faith?”
      That word rocked her. Faith. Her mouthed closed and her hands dropped. She looked up at her older brother, a look of concern and caring on her face. She was fighting it!
      “That’s it Fay! Fight!”
      “No! This isn’t possible!” Santa stepped in front of Eddie, getting face to face with the zombie Fay.
      Zombie Fay looked at Santa, then at Eddie. She moved her mouth and tried to speak, her words coming out a gargled mess. She tried again, this time with more clarity.
      “Yes Fay, you are my zombie. I created you,” Santa said.
      “Yes Fay, I am Santa Claus, and soon you will be my zombie wife. Now and for eternity,” Santa moved aside and pointed at Eddie, “but first you must finish HIM!”
      “What?” Santa’s expression fell flat.
      Fay lunged at the unexpecting Santa. Her polished fingernails penetrated his eye sockets, she twisted and pulled at the eyeballs, plucking them from his skull. She devoured them. Santa fumbled backwards, shock, surprise, horror, terror, confusion, disappointment, anger, violence, disgust, and distress on his face.
      This did not stop Fay. She attacked again, this time slashing her fingernails across Santa’s face. Razor thin lines appeared at the top, bottom, and sides of it. Fay took a firm grip of his rosy cheeks and pulled at the skin, ripping Santa’s face from his skull. Santa screamed, every muscle in his face moving with perfect clarity.
      Perhaps she had pity on him or tired of his screams but next she rocketed her fist into his chest. She took a moment to search around and found what she was looking for, his heart. She took it from his chest cavity.
      She looked at the still beating heart a moment, wide eyed wonder deep within her black eyes.
      “No Fay don’t, you’ll ruin everything I’ve worked for. My legacy, my future, is over if you-”
      Fay did not listen, she devoured the heart, each bite releasing the evil within her. Magic still existed in Santa’s heart. It always had and always would. Each bite of the mystical heart released the demons from inside her.
      Fay’s eyes faded and color filled them again. She took another bite. The darkness of her skin lightened, turning it a joyous pink again.
      Santa’s screamed and shouted, “You have no idea what you have done! You can’t stop Santa Claus! I’ll be back next year!”
      Fay put the last remnants of Santa’s existence in her mouth and a cold silence washed over the room. She looked over to Eddie. He saw in her those familiar blue eyes. She ran to him and hugged him, kissed him on the cheek.
      “It’s over,” she said to him. “It’s all over, I can feel it.”
      She untied him from the post and they looked down at the violent remains of a once iconic man.
      Zombie Santa was dead.


Fay and Eddie embraced each other in their loving arms. “I’m so glad I didn’t eat you,” said Fay.
      “Believe me Fay, I’m glad too.”
      “Don’t call me Fay anymore,” she said to him, “call me Faith.”
      “You got it...Faith.”

While they had been doing battle with the malevolent Santa Claus, they failed to notice the finer details of the room at the top of Santa’s tower. All around the circular perimeter, steel roll up doors, five feet across and eight feet high, surrounded the room. There were nearly a hundred of them. And now, at this moment, they all opened.
      Eddie and Faith released each other.
      A mysterious fog flowed into the room. Within the doors, thousands of eyes, bright red eyes, flicked open, extending their gaze at Eddie and Faith.
      “I think it’s time to go,” Faith said.
      “I don’t think so,” said a strange voice from behind them. Eddie and Faith turned and standing no more than three feet in front of them was a large bulky man, normal height, with a long flowing beard.  The most defining characteristic of the stranger was his eyes, his horrible crimson eyes.
      “Who are you?”
      From all around the room, the zombies entered. They lurched over one another, tripped and stampeded over each other, but none of them had ill feelings for the next because they all had one thing on their minds...devouring Faith and Eddie.
      “My name is Chris Kringle and you’ve just killed my brother.”

Not much different from a tree falling in the woods, their screams echoed for miles but nobody heard them.

Author's Notes:

So this is me trying to end a story. lol. I had just finished reading Stephen King's The Dark Tower as I finished writing this story so that's really the whole reason for the tower. I wasn't very satisfied with the ending to that story so I guess I was kinda trying to make up for it with a twisted ending of my own with this story. It's kinda dumb but if you've read TDT then you know what I mean.

I was trying to put in as much emotion as I could between the Zombie Fay and her brother. It might come off too strong...I'm not entirely sure. But yeah...I was working that Fay/Faith angle kinda hard.

And the final joyous little twist. I liked it. I was trying to drop hints everywhere but its kind of hard to spot without really paying attention. Like at the beginning...Chris Kringles' eyes glow red while Santa's are black. So the whole time its not Santa that was at the beginning. And of course...I'm a sucker for a sequel so I just had to end it so I have something to start from NEXT year!

Overall...there should be a lot more to this story but I'm satisfied with what it is. This story is a massive turning point for me in terms of writing and style. Things flowed out of me more, there wasn't a master plan while I was writing this. Words seemed to come together easier for me. And to date this is the longest story in my arsenal. That was a major achievement for me.

Thank you for reading and I hope you all have a very scary bad movie Christmas!

Thursday, December 23, 2010

SHORT STORY: Zombie Santa Must Die! Part 5



A terrible darkness swept over a globe of rolling hills. The hills, once a blissful paradise of life and achievement, now wept at the sight of the oncoming storm. Clear ooze poured out between cracks and valleys, perhaps as a defense from the ancient evil that flooded it or perhaps because it knew the end was near and all that there was left to do was cry. Electrical charges connected the porous membrane and the thick black sludge that enveloped it. Deep below the surface, where life, what little of it there was, still remained was being consumed. Eaten. It’s color changed swiftly from a welcoming pink to a disturbing gray.

Bewilderment consumed Fay’s face as the gate to Santa’s fortress split at the seams then creaked open. The doors opened wide and stopped at a ninety degree angle to the gate.
      The moment the doors stopped, Fay’s eyes began to rapidly move left, then right, then left again, like a waking REM sleep. She collapsed to her knees and bent forward, ready to discard the contents of her stomach onto the snowy floor. Her hands clenched her pounding head. She pushed tightly on either side of her skull, holding it as if it was going to explode. She felt her brain swell, pushing hard against the outer wall of her skull. She would have screamed if it were possible but this pain was beyond the human capacity for screaming so her mouth hung open allowing streams of saliva to drip to the ground like a leaky faucet.
      Thirty seconds went by, the longest thirty seconds of Fay’s life, and the pain released. She fell onto her back, facing the sky. Her limbs spread out like she was preparing to make a snow angel.
      A few more minutes passed and she sat up. “What was that?” She spoke softly. Shaking her head, she got back to her feet, rocking back slightly. She planted a foot behind her to regain her balance.
      At that moment, the doors to Santa’s fortress began to close.
      Fay saw this out of the corner of a blurry eye and took a shaky step forward. Then two steps, three. After a fourth step she regained most of her cognitive abilities and started to pace quickly into Santa’s fortress. The gate doors were nearly to their closed position as Fay dove between them. Her landing was soft and cold.
      Ca-click. The doors locked.
      Fay rolled over onto her back and looked up at the giant golden doors, admiring their beauty. Her eyes followed the posts down to the ground. Once there her vision saw beyond the gate and back to the spot where she had collapsed.
      “My guns! No, no, no, NO! My GUNS!” Fay quickly got to her feet and ran to the gate, her arms outstretched beyond them in a hopeless attempt to retrieve the guns that had fallen off her shoulder during her episode.
      “Son of a bitch.”
      She heard cackling from behind her. She turned. Sitting not more than six feet away stood a miniature man, no more than two feet tall. He wore a tall green pointy hat, a green pilgrim outfit, and curly tip shoes to match. His face was dark grey and scabby. He didn’t speak but giggled like a child while looking at her through deep obsidian eyes.
      She knelt down attempting to look like she wanted to reason with the creature but really she wanted to grab the knife that was strapped to her ankle.  Her hand moved slowly down the side of her body, tracing her leg from the hip to her ankle.
      What she failed to see were the half a dozen other miniature zombie men. They got the jump on her from both sides, like a velociraptor attack. The last thing she saw before she was seeing stars was a wooden bat flying towards her face at a dangerous speed. The side read “Santa’s plaything.”

When she awoke she inhaled a lungful of dust. She rolled over, coughed, and took in a lungful of fresh air. She was no longer on snow but on gravel. It made her muscles stiff and achy. But that could have been other things too. She sat up and looked around. She wasn’t outside anymore, she was inside a gigantic domed arena. The floor of it was a little smaller than the floor of a football stadium and the walls surrounding it were thirty feet high. At the top of the wall surrounding the arena were thousands of seats and in each of those seats were green clothed, grey skinned, scabby elfin zombies. They cackled maniacally as they all saw Fay begin to move.
      To them, it meant that the show was about to begin.
      Fay got up and looked around. She didn’t have much time to get the full picture until the crowd of undead elves’ chatter came to an abrupt silence.
      “Hoh Hoh Hoh! Welcome to my home, Fay”
      Fay turned around one hundred and eighty degrees. “What the…” In front of her was a door that stood fifty feet tall. Above the door was a balcony, and in the balcony was a silhouette of a man. It enlarged as it came into the light. Zombie Santa.
      “YOU!” She shouted.
      “Yes, me. Santa Claus.”
      “YOU are not Santa Claus, the Santa Claus I know would never do the things you have done!”
      “I AM SANTA CLAUS!” His hoarse voice rumbled across the amphitheatre. Several elves dove under their seats in fear of his voice.
      Fay shot an accusing finger at him, “Where is my brother?”
      Santa’s sizzling red cheeks calmed to a mellow pink. “He’s safe…for now.”
      “I want him back and I want him back RIGHT NOW!”
      “I’ll give you your brother but first I have a present for you.” Santa flipped his arm in a slick fluid motion downwards in a diagonal direction, pointing towards the door below him. From behind the door was a massive thud, like the sound of a Tyrannosaurus Rex…only bigger. The door began to open.
      “You see Fay, I’ve been experimenting with the zombie gene.”
      Fay heard only his words, her eyes were glued to the door and the horror that laid beyond it.
      “I found that not only does it have the capability to transform humans and animals into zombies-”
      The door was nearly wide open but all Fay could see was pitch black darkness.
      “-but when mixed with the proper chemicals, it can also create life out of nothing.”
      The shadowy darkness moved. The darkness that Fay had seen was but a shadow of something bigger, something worse than anything she could have ever imagined. The giant creature escaped it lair much like the Rancor from Return of the Jedi. It moved into the arena giving Fay a better look into the very essence that was the word, terror.
      It stood nearly fifty feet tall. Its body was a smooth as ice, lumpy from the bottom to the top. It’s arms were as big as tree trunks and just as rough. Its nose was a tender orange, its eyes as black as coal. And sitting on top of its head was a stove top hat.
      “I call him Frosty.”
      The giant white creature reared back and let out a tremendous roar.
      “You want your brother Fay,” Santa said pointing up, towards the top of the tower, “Come get him.” Santa escaped into darkness once again, leaving Fay to deal with this titanic sized albino sculpture of man.
      With no time for a game plan, Fay ran. The towering snowman rolled towards her. It had no legs but the bottom section of its hulky frame served well enough to make it move.
      Fay looked to her left and her right. Nothing of use. Some fire would be really good right about now.
      The snowman was gaining ground, it was impossible for her to outrun it. She stopped near the edge of the arena and turned to her right, running along the outer wall, shouts of bloodthirsty elves ringing through her ears. The momentum of Frosty was too much for it to turn on a dime and it crashed into the wall, crushing hundreds of elves.  The rest of the elf crowd was divided between screeches of excitement and laughter.
      Frosty backed from the hole in the wall and surveyed the arena. A predator searching for its prey. It locked its coals on Fay and rolled after her again. This time it kept its pace, rolling fast enough to catch her but not fast enough to hurt itself again.
      Fay was doomed. She ran as hard as she could but already her legs were getting tired. She took another hard right and ran for the center of the arena, the colossal Frosty the Snowman closing in on her.
      Frosty bent down and scooped Fay in one of its branch ridden hands. She struggled to free herself but its strength far exceeded her own. Frosty tossed Fay into the air, her body tumbling as if she were being tossed around in an invisible drying machine. Frosty’s mouth opened wide, rows of stumpy teeth lining the walls of its icy cavern. Fay fell into oblivion.
      She was gone.

The crowd of onlooking elves cheered wildly. Some of them pouted in disappointment, hoping for something a little more bloody. Frosty raised one trunk high in the sky, nodding in approval of their cheers.
      Then the smile faded from its face and its arm went limp. The crowd of elves stopped as well. Silence engulfed the arena.
      Frosty’s head began to jingle and jangle. If you were to play Jingle Bells right at that moment, the beat would match this action precisely. Finally, it stopped. The monumental creature was as white as snow but in that moment it went even a lighter shade of white. Ultra white.
      One of its coal eyes began to jiggle and then popped from its socket, crashing to the arena floor. It cracked in half, each side shooting into opposite directions. The other chunk of eye coal followed suit with the first. From the creature’s socket emerged a being. Fay! She stepped out of Frosty’s skull and stood upon his cheek.
      Frosty went ballistic. It thrashed wildly and roared in pain. The blinded Frosty searched frantically for its eyes. Fay slid down the side of Frosty’s curvy body all the way to the ground. She ran away from the insane snowman and headed for the open door where Frosty had entered the arena.
      There she would find her way into Santa’s Tower while Frosty fumbled about the arena searching for its missing eyes. The massive would unintentionally kill every zombie elf in the process.

Author's Notes:

This is the part I was most excited to write. I got the idea of the giant Frosty the Snowman from the editor of the Undead That Saved Christmas. He was complaining about nobody using zombie snowmen. So that sparked this creation and for the most part I liked it. It's pretty ridiculous but thats ok...I like that kind of thing.

I hope you understood the opening paragraph. I was going for symbolism there of the zombie virus infecting Fay's brain...her life slowly being ripped away from here...her life dissolving. It's kinda confusing but I figured I'd give it a try.

And yet's another part that suffered because of the word limit I was up against. So Fay was going to fight an army on the way up Death Mountain and at the top she was going to go through a maze of booby traps to Santa's which point she'd be kidnapped and pitted against Frosty. But I had to slice out the booby traps (I still got to mention them though) and go with the baseball bat to the face. Eh, could have been better.

Wednesday, December 22, 2010

SHORT STORY: Zombie Santa Must Die! Part 4



Fay Campbell - Log Entry - December 25, 2012 - 4:06 AM

My suspicions of the origins of the zombie virus have been confirmed. The destruction of this world, the obliteration of the human species, everything that has happened in the past two years all began in the North Pole. One man, Santa Claus, is responsible. How I know this I do not yet understand.

Eddie is gone. I do not believe he is dead yet. I don’t know why but I just know it. I must tread carefully. Santa Claus, the zombified remains of the holly jolly cheer filled man, has taken him. I will follow him, face him head on. As the saying goes, perhaps if I cut the head off the snake the rest of the body will die. Meaning I kill Santa, I kill the zombies. But that’s wishful thinking. I just want my brother back. I regret not being there for him this past year. It was hard on both of us but he didn’t deserve to be treated the way I treated him. If I ever

I shot down one of Santa’s reindeer. Fortunately it is still alive...kind of. Before it woke up, I pulled all of its teeth, just in case it decides to turn on me I can avoid being supper. I found an old saddle and harness in the barn. I should be able to make it fit. As soon as I finish this final log entry I’ll pack up as many guns as I can and let if fly me to its home, to Santa Claus. I have a check to write, I need to pay him back for what he has done to me.

I can feel it inside me, the darkness he has given me slowly eating me alive. What I am, who I am, what I want to be is steadily being taken away from me. I don’t know how to kill this evil. I don’t know who or what I’m turning in to. But I can feel it inside me. Burning. I can hear it inside me. Screaming. But before it has a chance to kill me, there’s one thing I must do.

I have to kill Santa Claus.

The North Pole - December 25, 2012 - 5:56 PM

      Rudolph the Undead Reindeer descended from the sky and gracefully landed at the foot of a magnificent mountain. Fay got off the back of Rudolph and pulled out her side arm. “Thanks for the ride Rudy.” She put the pistol to the side of Rudolph’s head and then…well let’s just say his nose won’t be blinking anytime soon.
       She reholstered her weapon, looking down at the reindeer. She gazed deep into its body. Her nostrils flared, she could smell the rotting meat barely hanging onto its brittle skeleton. Her mouth began to salivate as the hunger inside her swelled like a balloon, ready to burst. She took one step towards the creature…
      …and stopped. Shock swam over her face. Never in her life had she ever felt so out of control. She wanted to EAT the thing. She was ready to get down on all fours and dig in elbow deep. No silverware needed here. Finish your plate before you go to bed.
      She stepped back, away from Rudolph. That’s all it was, a stupid reindeer. A stupid dead reindeer. Not dinner. She repeated in her head several times, “I am not a zombie, I am not a zombie, I am not a zombie…” until she had convinced herself that she wasn’t, and never will be, a zombie.
      At last she regained her confidence and returned her attention to the mountain. It was but a large hill on an otherwise baron flatland. Snow made it difficult to see the outline but when the wind died down long enough you could make out the steep slope of trees that made up its outer perimeter. They converged at the peak, which may have come to a razor sharp point at one time in the distant past but it had since plateaued, flattened one square mile at the top. On this plateau was Fay’s desination. Fay’s destiny. Santa’s workshop.
      She plucked her wide array of weapons that were still strapped to Rudolph’s back and hung them over her good shoulder, not giving the consumption of rotting meat a second thought. She turned towards the mountain and inhaled deeply. She let the cold air into her lungs, felt it circulate throughout her body. Felt it convert and converge with the evil inside her. She hoped that perhaps the air molecules may attach themselves to the virus inside her and when she exhaled not only would the air leave her body but the evil along with it. She exhaled. No change.
      She let out a disappointing sigh. “Wishful thinking.”  With that, she began her trek up the mountainside. The journey wasn’t as treacherous as she made herself believe that it would be. She was on guard the entire trip, wary that death lurked around every corner. But there was none. Just snow and trees. After two hours of hiking she reached the top.
      She took her final steps out of the snow and set foot for the first time in months onto a paved road. It had recently been plowed here. The paved path lead not straight across but downward into a valley that sunk down the mountain top. She could see Santa’s workshop from here. Upon closer inspection she noticed it was not a workshop at all but a fortress!
      Surrounding the compound was a glistening golden fence that rose twenty feet high. Every foot of the fence had a spiked post threatening to impale any intruders foolish enough to attempt to climb over it. If any intruders did in fact get past the gate they would be bombarded with a cache of booby traps. Christmas trees flowered open and converted to launchable saw blades, giant candy cane decorations shot out ten feet of flames in all directions from their curvy ends, and surrounding Santa’s home, a gumdrop mine field littered the ground as a final defense.
      What lay at the center of Santa’s fortress wasn’t so much a home but a giant tower. Blackened windows twisted up its outer skin, following a red and white decorated banner from the base of the tower to its pointed tops. It was at the top where Santa most assuredly would be. That is where Fay set her sights.
      Fay marched down the path to the gate. Her eyes strayed from the path to the treeline, keeping a watchful eye on any unexpected surprises. So far so good.
      Shortly, she reached the door of the golden gates. Now that she was close enough to touch them she could see that not only were the gates made of gold but also jewel encrusted giving them an even brighter glow.
      She looked up at the towering gates, and then looked all around her for any other ways into the compound. “Alright Fay, how are you going to get in?”
      She might as well have said Open Sesame because no sooner did she finish her inquiry and the gates opened.

Author's Notes:

Part 4 should be a lot more than it is. It was really at this point that I struggled with the story. I wanted to do a lot of things and there was still a lot of things that I wanted to do so it was this part that suffered the most. What should be included here is a lot more of the journey...I mostly had to summarize it in the log entry. I wanted a lot more action going up the fighting armies of undead elves or some crazy shit. But I knew I was running up against a word limit so I had to make that dreaded decision to pull it and wrap it up with what is here.

And I really regret not putting more interaction between Santa and Fay's brother. There should be a scene here...however short...between them. Something along the lines of Santa chaining Eddie to a wall and Eddie shouting at him, "She'll come! Fay will come for me!" and Santa replying, "I'm counting on it." So keep that in mind for the next couple of Parts.

Tuesday, December 21, 2010

SHORT STORY: Zombie Santa Must Die! Part 3



Fay Campbell - Log Entry - December 23, 2012 - 12:46 PM

In two days, my brother Eddie, his friend Jon, and myself will have been hunting zombies for a year now. Our newest addition, Sarah, has been with us for the past four months. She’s really grown on me, on all of us. Her expertise with combat strategy is astounding. It’d hurt us a lot to lose her.

I’ve been tracing the origins of the zombie plague. So far my findings have led us north, far north. Just how much farther, I do not know. But with every new day comes more answers AND more questions. I believe we are close though, very close. Our journey has brought us to an abandoned farmhouse in northern Canada. We scoped it out last night, made sure there were no nasty surprises waiting for us inside. Fortunately the cabinets were stocked with canned goods so I believe we can stretch our supplies another week at least. I hope that’s all it takes. I’m getting tired of this game. It has to end.

We passed a mall on our way through town. It looks deserted but I think it’s worth a closer look. Malls are common places for gatherings. I’ll check it out later today if I get time and see what’s going on out there. Otherwise I’ll talk to the guys, maybe we’ll just go down there tomorrow morning and blow the place to hell, see what happens. If nothing else we can find some more supplies.

On a side note, it’ll be Christmas in two days. It’ll also be the one year anniversary of the death of my parents. Eddie’s parents. Jon’s parents. I’m not really looking forward to it. That’s when this “quest” really began. After those zombie SOB’s took everything away from me, I have taken it upon myself to take it all away from them. They will pay for what they’ve done. Everything I thought I knew about Christmas is dead to me. At least I have Eddie. And our…family. If that’s what you’d like to call it. I don’t think I’m really ready to call it that. Not yet anyway.

December 24, 2012 - Farmhouse - 11:57 PM

The flame from a candle sitting atop a dining room table danced gently in the old farmhouse tenderly lighting moldy Christmas stockings, dusty snowman knickknacks, and creating a silhouette of a brown and carefully decorated Christmas tree. The melted wax overflowed and poured into the candle holder’s basin, presumably to stay that way forever. The wax within the candle rose like floodwaters and the light flickered one final time and disappeared, a steady stream of smoke rising from its still illuminated wick.
      The hunters had returned to the farmhouse earlier that morning. They didn’t say a word to one another on the trip back to base. Once there, they unpacked their supplies and sat in silence in the living room. Eddie dozed off while Jon and Fay played a few rounds of cards. Fay made them an exquisite feast from the canned goods they had found in the pantry. After dinner they sat around and avoided talking about Sarah at all. Instead, they plotted out their next target, planned out their rations for the next week and a half, then drew up a course northbound that would lead through towns most likely to contain zombie gatherings. Each time Fay brought up something relevant to Sarah, Eddie tried to get her to talk about it. And each time she changed the subject and focused at the task at hand. Shortly after the sun vanished below the horizon and went to sleep. So did the hunters. Eddie and Jon slept soundly in spite of what had happened. Fay on the other hand…

...A deep black shadow extended out of the light and took hold of Fay, gripping tighter and tighter. It squeezed hard enough to make a python cringe. Her eyes began to bulge until they finally burst from her skull, smacking against her cheek. Her tongue began to swell and spill out of her mouth, unrolling onto her chest like a red carpet event. The final moments before she was crushed underneath this behemoth gloom Sarah’s voice cried out from the darkness, “Where were you? You said you would protect me, where were you when that thing was eating my brains. Where were yyyoooouuu.” The voice trailed off. The shadow released for a moment letting Fay take one last breathe and as she inhaled, it squeezed, her entire body-

'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse;
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there

      Fay woke up in a cold sweat. Her rapid breathing spurt out quick shots of white smoke from the cold night air like an ancient steam engine. The farmhouse provided shelter from the wind but unfortunately the furnace was useless. To the hunters, it was a relic from a civilization long passed.
      She snapped back to reality and her pulse gradually returned to normal. Her hand reached up and massaged her face. “Just a dream,” she sighed in relief. Then she glanced at Eddie and Jon. Still sleeping. They could pretty much sleep through anything. Since there wasn’t much chance she was going to get anymore sleep tonight she decided to get up and go for a short walk. “Maybe some fresh air will help clear my head a little,” she thought as she put on another sweater.
      The moon and stars were uncharacteristically bright this evening. Their light combined together and with the help of a mirrorlike snow made for perfect lighting conditions. One star in particular stood out from all the rest. It lied high above the horizon, twinkling radiantly. The North Star. It guided their way towards their “destiny.” “This is what Mary must have felt like the night Jesus was born,” Fay thought to herself, “it’s so beautiful.”

When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.

      From behind her Fay heard a light shuffling of feet. It wasn’t directly behind her but loud enough to crank on her radar. Utterly defenseless, she scrambled for a weapon. Anything! If any of the undead were to appear here, right now, Fay was done for. She frantically searched all around her, and with surprised joy on her face, she spotted a shovel leaning against the side of the tool shed. She grasped the handle and held the spade up high, readying it to lay a devastating blow to any creature that dare try to get the jump on her.
      By the light of the moon, she searched around. Looked left then right. Nothing. She gazed beyond the front porch, still nothing. She snuck back towards the house, careful to make as little noise as possible. All of the doors and windows were locked, Eddie and Jon were safe. “Where are you, you zombie bastard? Aunt Fay has a Christmas present for you,” she spoke softly.

When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature sleigh, and eight tiny reindeer,
With a little old driver, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.

      That’s when she heard a peculiar sound, not so much a snort like an animal would make but more of a rough cough, almost like the kind you would hear from a seasoned smoker. She looked around, nothing. Then she heard it again, this time not around her but above her. Her vision elevated slowly from the porch to the roof. Once her eyes met what lay above, her chin dropped to the ground like an anvil. Sitting atop the roof was a blood red sleigh and nine familiar looking reindeer.
      A passing cloud in the night sky moved beyond the gaze of the full moon and Fay got a closer look at these monstrosities. Their skin was meaty, practically melting off their bodies. Half of them had visible bone structures, and once the lead creature caught sight of Fay it’s nose suddenly flickered to life. Red, the color of blood, the color of death.

And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound.

Jon screeched in agony. She cast her attention immediately to the house, forgetting the reindeer even existed. She dropped the shovel (a fatal mistake) and ran to the door with a flash. He screamed again. This time more...gargally. After a quick flip of the lock she entered the house. What she saw when she stepped into the living room would never leave her memory until the day she died.
      To her left, Eddie was bound to the couch in ribbons and Christmas lights, a stocking gagged his mouth. To her right was Jon...being eaten alive. His head bobbed madly as the creature sporting a red overcoat and black boots took hold of his ear, tore it from the side of his head and swallowed it with little resolution. Fay would never forget the horror in Jon’s eyes as the pleasantly plump figure standing before her reached into the slit it had made in his neck earlier and pulled, then twisted. Jon’s head came off like a champagne cork, popping sound and all. This...thing held Jon’s head up to eye level and gazed deep into what could only be described as Jon’s soul. In a raspy voice it moaned, “Ho Ho Ho.”

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the stockings; then turned with a jerk,
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose

      Santa, the Zombie Santa, startled by her presence, turned and hissed. Its mouth opened wide displaying rows of razor sharp teeth and a snaky forked obsidian tongue. From the innards of its horrible mouth came a stream of egg nog looking liquid. It arced over the living room and landed firmly upon Fay’s shoulder. It immediately began to sizzle and smoke. With no regard towards human curiosity, she ripped the sweater from her back and threw it to the floor. The acidic goo melted through the sweater leaving a hole in the floor the size of a basketball.
      While Fay was distracted by the sweater, Santa lunged at her. Her head was perfectly turned towards the floor and a cool clamp of death bit down on her neck sending a steady stream of fresh blood into the air. It landed softly onto a family Christmas portrait on the wall. The streak of blood slid over the picture transforming it into a work of absolute terror.
      Fay shrieked. Behind Santa, Eddie’s screams were muffled by the stocking in his mouth. He thrashed around until he fell to the floor in a failed attempt to free himself. Santa let go of Fay readying to attack again. In that moment opportunity knocked and Fay answered. Santa hissed again, preparing to send another shot of acidic egg nog in her direction. Instead of retreating Fay rushed him and pushed him back. The zombie Santa tripped over his sack full of evil and crashed to the floor. Fay didn’t miss a beat. She flew to the fireplace and pulled the fire poker from its holder.
      Santa got to his feet and turned to give Fay another Christmas surprise. The next thing he saw as he turned towards her was a black metal spear coming towards his face. It slid effortlessly into his mouth, into his eggnog spitting sack, and out through the back of his head. The acidic sack fell from the spear and melted through the floor.

He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,
"Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night."

      Santa, knowing when to hold ‘em and when to fold ‘em, pushed Fay aside. She collapsed to the ground, crushing presents and knocking over a long gone pine tree. Spear in head, Santa took hold of Eddie and heaved him into the fireplace. Fay lay on the floor looking up at the Zombie Santa, not with hope and love like she once had as a child, but with fear and hatred.
      Santa pulled the fire poker from his mouth and threw it to the floor. He turned towards Fay one last time and in a voice as hoarse as a week old cold said, “To all a good fright!” And with that he took hold of Eddie, stomped his boot to the floor, and flew up the chimney.
      Fay scrambled to her feet, “EDDIE!” and dove into the empty fireplace. She caught a glimpse of Eddie’s shoe as it disappeared over the edge of the fireplace above her.
      Across the living room and next to a decapitated Jon, lay Jon’s pump action shotgun. Fay grabbed it and ran outside, praying that Santa was still there.
      As if the Lord had answered her prayers, Santa was still atop the roof. “On Dancer, on Prancer, Comet, and Vixen! Heave you dusty bags of bones!”
      Fay raised the barrel of the gun, aimed for the deer and fired.
      She missed. The reindeer sneered and panicked. Santa whipped the reins and they began to take off. They charged across the rooftop, moments from lift off.
      Just before they leapt off into the night sky, Eddie poked his head over the edge of the cab. He caught one last glimpse of his baby sister. Tears began to roll down his cheek. He loved her, hoped the best for her, and was glad that it was him in that terrible sleigh and not her.
      Fay fired again, this time hitting the lead deer. The one with the blinking red nose. The creature went limp and the leather straps holding it in place broke loose. It crashed to the ground with the speed of a shooting star.
      As Santa’s sleigh and her brother within flew off into the night’s sky, Fay wished upon that shooting star-deer, “Please god, give me strength...Zombie Santa Must Die.”

Author's Notes:

So I originally thought Part 3 would be a quick short part but it ended up being the longest one. I just wanted them to get back to the farmhouse and wallow in their sorrows...and then Zombie Santa comes and kills them. But it ended up more than I could have imagined. Overall...I enjoyed this part. The gore was pretty cool. And as I was writing this story I started to see coincidences with "Twas the Night Before Christmas" so I just went with it and pulled some pieces of the poem and incorporated them into this part. I thought it was a cool idea.

And oddly enough...the ending of this part kind of rhymes.

Monday, December 20, 2010

SHORT STORY: Zombie Santa Must Die! Parts 1 & 2

Welcome friends! This week is Christmas week and I'm gonna be a lazy bitch. Sorry. But it's Christmas week so that's just as good of an excuse as any is it not?

It was about 6 months ago that I wrote an epic Zombie Christmas story for the short story anthology entitled: The Undead That Saved Christmas. (I'm sure you've seen the banner at the top of my page). didn't make the cut. I can only assume it was too awesome (or too long). But that is alright because you know what? All my friends...right here, right now, this week, will get a chance to read it. In all its wonderful Zombie Christmas glory. So sit back, take it easy, and lets get in the spirit! Christmas is coming!!

Mr. Gable's Reality presents:

Zombie Santa Must Die!


December 25, 1773

The world is in turmoil. New diseases threaten to destroy all humanity. One man, Sir Arthur Methias, a medical scientist, has taken it upon himself to solve these problems. By mixing several top secret chemicals, known only to him, and concocting a spice mixture consisting of pine tree needles, mistletoe leaves, and reindeer hooves, he has created on this day what he refers to as his “Destiny Serum.”

      “Chris! I need you,” Methias shouted to the adjoining living room. Methias had been in his study all morning carefully plotting his next move with the Destiny Serum. The thought of trying it on himself passed through his mind momentarily but he casually pushed it aside. He knew full well if there were unexpected side effects that only he, Sir Arthur Methias, could possibly fix it. And nobody else. “Chris, you fat oaf, get in here. I have something for you.”
      Chris Kringle had been Arthur’s assistant since the beginning. He had endured the trials and tribulations that were Arthur’s constant verbal abuse. Fat, Repulsive, and Loggerhead were among the most common adjectives Arthur used to summon Chris. Sometimes all three at the same time. Chris was a stout man, mid 60’s, balding, with a long beard of white as if a giant snowy avalanche had plummeted off of his face. He waddled in and stopped at the foot of Arthur’s desk, “Yes sir, how can I help you?”
      “Have a drink with me, will you?” Arthur slid the cool glass of foggy liquid to the edge of the desk. The sweat off the glass left the desk charred and scorn in its wake.
      “What is it?” Chris inquired.
      “Doesn’t matter, we drink to success. We drink to this!” Arthur’s arm ascended to eye level. He stared at the cool fogging liquid that occupied the space within the vial in his hand.
      “Congratulations sir, we never thought we could do it,” Chris said leaning forward to grab the glass, “but we did it. All of humanity will benefit from your creation.” Chris opened his mouth (and his gullet), threw back the glass, and tossed the cool foggy liquid down, deep down into the bottomless chasm of his belly.
      Immediately Chris froze. The glass slipped from his hand and crashed to the floor. Shards of glass spread in all directions at his feet. He could not move, he could not speak. He was but a statue.
      Arthur put his glass on the table and stood up, looking and Chris. “How do you feel? Please describe what is happening to you.” Arthur pulled his notepad from his shirt pocket and quickly began jotting notes. He noted the pale color of his skin, the way his cheeks seemed to shimmer bright crimson, then he noticed…he was dead. Chris toppled backwards, body stiff as it ever was, and crashed to the floor like a tree in the forest. Had a lumberjack been in the vicinity, he surely would have shouted, “Timber!”
      “Oh my,” Arthur exclaimed, “thank god that wasn’t me.” He shuffled over to Chris and then bent down on his hands and knees to get a closer look. He checked for a pulse. None. Within the few moments that Chris had ingested the mystery brew and collapsed to the floor his body temperature had fallen nearly thirty degrees. He was as cold as ice. Arthur bent forward and fished through his jacket pocket. What he found was a wallet and pocket watch. He looked at them with glee, “Well then Mr. Kringle. I don’t think you’ll be needing these now will you?” He cackled joyously at the wad of dollar bills within Chris’ wallet.
      At that moment, Chris’ eyelids flung open displaying eyes that had faded to a deep burgundy. Chris rocked himself to a seated position while Arthur was still distracted by the wallet and then generously bit down on the tender area of Arthur’s neck. Arthur had just began to let out a scream but was cut short as Chris attacked a second time, this time biting down on his wind pipe. When Chris pulled away, instead of pulling out a chunk of bloody flesh, Chris pulled out Arthur’s entire air passage system. Trachea and all. Even a good portion of his lungs (still attached to his windpipe) had slipped pass the minor opening left by Chris. Arthur was no more.
      Chris kneeled forward at Arthur’s lifeless body. He began to feed. With the first few bites taken, Chris bent upwards and let out a high frequency moan. Then the hunger took over and he continued to feast on Arthur’s motionless corpse under the light of the brilliantly bright full moon.

The Destiny Serum was meant to prolong life and kill infection. Instead, it killed everything and brought it back to life. The hunger of the reborn undead creature being an unfortunate side effect. BUT…fortunately for the world, and for the generations of children for centuries to come, there was a wizard that had taken up residence at the same building as Sir Arthur Methias and his assistant Chris Kringle. This wizard also happened to hear the hungry cry of Chris as he fed upon Arthur. The wizard rushed down to Arthur’s laboratory and discovered what had happened. He tried everything he could gather in order to kill the creature but every act proved unsuccessful. Physical attacks failed, magical attacks failed, pushing the creature from the roof failed, running him over with a reindeer driven sleigh failed. Then he had an idea. With the sleigh at hand he did the last thing he could possibly do. He cursed Chris Kringle. Chris would travel the world in this sleigh once a year distributing toys to all the good girls and boys. Chris was banished to the North Pole. It would be here that the resident elf community would help him build the toys. For the good girls and boys.

With this curse came a price. The curse would only last so long as the spirit of Christmas (giving, thankfulness, faith, hope, charity, and most importantly family) existed on Earth. Once those values have been lost then, and only then, would this hellspawn be unleashed on this world.

And thus, Zombie Santa Claus was born.


December 24, 2012 - DanValley Mall - 5:36 AM

The air is crisp, the land is silent. The world rests quietly, waiting for the prospect of a new day. The sun will be rising soon. Any moment now the sun’s rays will stretch out over the powdery snow that has blanketed every inch of landscape from horizon to horizon. But it has not happened yet.
      What has happened is the end of the world. The zombie apocalypse has thrust its wrath upon the Earth and humanity is powerless to stop it. For nearly two years the creatures of death have spread like a terrible virus across the map killing and converting all of mankind into their murderous hungry cult. All hope for mankind is lost.
      You wouldn’t think it though by the sight of this beautiful mall, on this beautiful December morning, everything covered in white innocence. That is until…
      …the north entrance to the mall burst like a thousand minute bubbles in a series of systemic explosions. In the light of the fire, the horde of zombies within became visible. They succumb to the fire like the moth to the flame, slowly stumbling towards it. Zombies dressed in Santa costumes, red and green sweatshirts with pictures of Christmas trees on them, and even a zombie in a Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer outfit all stagger their way towards the high rising flames.
      Then a truck appears through the burning inferno. Not around it but through it. If it were not for the fire you would never notice it. The slick black exterior reflected the light wonderfully. It stood 8 feet tall, 15 feet long, and harbored a massive spiked cow catcher on the front. Overkill. Attached to the cow catcher is a lighted wreath held there securely by twine. Along either side of the vehicle are a row of Christmas lights blinking incessantly on and off almost as if this vehicle has just come from the future. A speaker attached to the roof of the truck chimed twice and then began to play “Sleigh Bells” loudly over the crowd of on looking zombies. It is a vehicle of death.
      There is a moment of silence between the zombies and the vehicle. The zombies shambled slowly towards the vehicle, in awe of its presence. Then a door on the side of the vehicle fell to the ground with a loud metallic thump and a man stepped out, automatic rife in hand. “Rum puh pum pum, time to get us some.” He lept from the platform to the ground and shot two zombies in close proximity in the head. Both of their brains exploded out of the back of their spongy melons, painting the wall a soggy brown behind them.
      “That’s a good one Eddie,” another man said exiting the vehicle.
      “Thanks Jon,” Eddie said stepping aside to allow room for Jon to exit the platform.
      Next a woman stepped out of the truck, her poise and demeanor were both stiff and serious, “Guys this is serious.”
      “Come on Faith,” Eddie said, “why don’t you have a little…faith?”
      “Stop calling me Faith, my name is Fay,” she said looking out into the expanding crowd of undead creatures, “and I do have faith. Complete faith that you’ll get us all killed if you can’t stay focused on our mission.”
      “Yes ma’am.” Eddie stood at attention and gave her a lax salute.
      The last person exited the vehicle. She looked out beyond the boys and their toys into the abyss of zombies. “Looks like you were right Fay, there is a gathering here.”
      “Better get your gun Sarah,” Fay said not taking so much as a glimpse away from their targets, “It’s time to deck the halls with boughs of zombies.”
      “YEE-HAW!” Eddie shouted, then fired several rounds into the upper balconies of the mall. Three zombies toppled over the guard rail and fell nearly three stories. Having been undead and decomposing for nearly six months, when their bodies hit the ground they kind of just…splattered like soft ice cream hitting the floor.
      At this time Jon, Fay, and Sarah had their weapons and were firing at the zombies. All of the living dead that were hit exploded in brilliant flashes of red, green, brown, and black. Being that their bodies are extremely brittle made for a swift and easy kill. This is easy pickins is what Eddie would have said. “This is easy pickens!” Eddie said. Their bullets tore off limbs, severed heads, splattered coagulated blood from every orifice. But they kept coming. The mall had been full, and the gathering here was colossal.
      “Oh shit! I almost forgot something,” Jon turned and bolted into the truck.
      Fay caught glimpse of this deadly mistake in her peripheral and turned towards him, momentarily holding her fire. “Dammit Jon, get back in line!” Fay shouted at him but to no avail. Jon did not get back in line. Fay shook her head and whispered, “Idiot.”
      A minute went by when Jon returned, this time carrying a long slender box roughly three feet long, a bow taped to the end. He returned to Eddie’s side (back in line!) and tapped him on the shoulder. Eddie turned nearly shooting at Jon, “What are you doing!? I thought you were one of them!” he pointed towards the zombies, “I nearly blew your face off!”
      Jon didn’t seem to care, he held out the package and said, “Merry Christmas.”
      Eddie looked down at the package and then back up at Jon, “Aw dude, you shouldn’t have. It’s not even Christmas yet.”
      “That’s ok,” Jon waved a hand at the package, “my family could never wait until Christmas to open their presents. They always did it on Christmas Eve.”
      “What are you doing!?” Fay had turned towards the two grown men and their gift. The light from the fire reflected in her eyes making them seemingly blaze with fury. “Guys, can’t this wait? They’re still coming!” Fay continued to shoot but now turned away from Sarah and started to side step closer towards Eddie and Jon. What she failed to see (and what Sarah failed to see as well) was the door to their left, the door marked “Maintenance” gently crack open.
      Eddie opened the package and as he looked down into it, all the sounds of bullets, explosions, and “Sleigh Bells,” momentarily ceased to exist. He looked up at Jon, his eyes wide with joy. Christmas joy. “Where did you get this?”
      “I found it at the last gathering we cleaned out. I painted it myself,” Jon said with a smile.
      Eddie pulled a red and white cylinder out of the box and held it in his hands. The red and white paint swirled around the cylinder twirling upwards into eternity. He felt the weight and balance of it in his arms, wholly satisfied with its construction.
      Fay pounded towards them, the fire still burning in her eyes. “What are you guys doing, you need you back in line! We’re not done here”
      Eddie glanced at the candy cane colored cylinder and said with wide eyed wonder, “It’s so beautiful.” Eddie turned towards Fay, showing off his new toy. A candy cane painted anti air craft bazooka. She looked at him and jotted a stiff finger in the direction of the zombie horde closing in on their position. He turned towards the zombies then shook himself out of his haze, “Oh right…the zombies.”
      Sarah held her fire for a moment and watched the Eddie, Jon gift exchange. “Men.”
      It happened without warning. Sarah was so caught up in the drama that consisted of Fay chewing out her brother Eddie and his friend Jon (an event she lived for) that she broke her concentration from the task at hand. A voracious mouth opened wide, rows of misshapen, missing, twisted, and deadly teeth salivating riotously within its murky depths rose high above Sarah’s pleasant existence and clamped down like a snapping turtle onto the top of her skull. She shrieked. The maintenance zombie (complete in a red stocking cap) had a firm grip on the top of her head, bit down, and split open the rough and tough bones that supported her fragile brain. The bones fractured and cracked, spiderwebbing in all directions like a broken windshield. It tore the piece of broken bone and spit it out onto the floor. She shrieked again. The creature miraculously spoke, “BBRRAAAIINNSS.” The undead maintenance worker wasted no time and dipped its decaying, maggot rotten fist into the top of her head and spooned out the pulpy remnants of her head bowl. It devoured a handful then tipped her head back once more for another serving of brain soup. She shrieked wildly.
      It was at this point that Fay, Eddie, and Jon noticed what was happening. It was too late. Sarah was lost to this world.
      Fay didn’t know that she was gone for certain, not yet anyway, and she unleashed hell on the maintenance zombie. She dropped the pistol she had been using and unsheathed her double barreled Remington from its holster on her back and slammed it down into her hands. She pulled back on the forearm (making that wonderful and harmonious cha-chunk sound), fiercely jogged towards the maintenance zombie that had now taken Sarah’s life, pointed the barrel into the side of its temple, and pulled the trigger. (You can about imagine the mess it made. Hopefully there’s another maintenance zombie left over once this crew of zombie hunters is done here.)
      Jon ran to Fay. They stood side by side looking upon the messy remains of the maintenance zombie and the mangled corpse of their friend Sarah. He tried to comfort her but she shoved him away.
      Meanwhile Eddie stood in line. Unable to move. He looked at the horror that had been his friend…then he looked down at his brand new toy…and then he turned his head to the oncoming zombie mass, their numbers seemingly have maxed out since all of this began. Fortunately for Eddie all of the zombies were lined up perfectly down the middle of the mall. Eddie turned and pulled up the eyesight on the bazooka. He rested the cylinder on his shoulders and paused. He felt the weight of the weapon, it felt good. He let the anger of his friends death fester and transfer from his heart into his trigger finger. Then he fired.
      If there actually was a maintenance zombie left in the scattered remains of this undead army, he’d have his hands full for months cleaning up this mess.
      The hunters got back into their vehicle of death, none of them speaking to one another. Eddie turned off the speaker which was no longer playing “Sleigh Bells” but now had turned into “Santa Claus is Comin to Town.” Fay broke the silence when she said, “Jon, get us back to the farmhouse.” And with that, they drove out of the mall and into the rising sunscape. The sun’s rays stretching out over the powdery snow that blanketed every inch of the landscape horizon to horizon.

Author's Notes:
These parts...along with all the parts...were extremely longer than I had originally planned. So far, this is my longest story to date. Tuesday's Suck was close but still about 2000 words less total. But in Part 1 I really wanted to bring around some mystery and origins to Zombie Santa. And for some reason I really really liked the name Arthur Methias. I don't know where it came from...cuz I'm really awful with names...but there it is and I'm satisfied with it. And also...I googled the history of Santa and 1773 is the first occurrence of Santa that's ever been recorded so that's why I chose that year. Kinda really nerdy huh?

And Part 2: Like everything I write I wanted to open up the main story with a bang. But this part was really hurt by the fact that I was restraining myself because it was about this time that I realized I was going to go over my words if I was to tell the story that I wanted to tell so I had to rush a few things. I wanted to fix it but I just didn't have any time. The whole story kind of seems that way...because my limit was 10,000 words and I had somewhere around 9800. Sucks that I had to restrict myself, I could have made it so much cooler. lol. But anyway...Part 2, I love Sarah's death. I think that is the most descriptive I have ever been with anything ever. Even reading it now...I'm like wow. I wrote that? Crazy.

Friday, December 17, 2010

My Pitch for: Silent Night, Deadly Night Part 6.

Silent Night, Deadly Night: What a wild series huh? Ups and downs…and downs and downs…and a little up. We need to do something about this. Silent Night, Deadly night is DUE for a reboot. Not a remake like they’ve been talking about but a reboot. I’m not a fan of the remake although one would probably be alright in this case…a fresh start WOULD do this series some good. But alas, I’ll stay true to this series and all that its…accomplished.

So here is my pitch for the next installment in the SNDN series:

Silent Night, Deadly Night Part 6: Billy’s Revenge

Ok here we go. What needs to happen is we need to bring the greatest and most successful killer in the franchise back from the dead. The original killer: Billy.

Yes I know, he died. But with the magic of words and “imagination” we can bring him back. You ever see that movie Darkman? When the guy gets all deformed so he makes masks from people’s faces and wears them so he doesn’t look so hideous.

We’re stealing that.

In Part 6 we’ll start out by recapping the end of Part 1. Billy charges into the Nun school and is killed by the police. Then we cut to new footage of Billy being hauled out on a stretcher into the ambulance. When the crew puts Billy into the ambulance, they rock it a little too hard and his face falls off…displaying the face of the officer that was supposedly shot earlier.

Billy cut his own fucking face off as a decoy for his escape. BAM!

Opening credits. During the opening credits there is a montage of Billy running away to a forest area and finding an old shack. Then we see him eating squirrels and shit. And coming across some old magazines with Santa on the cover…this causes him to go apeshit on the magazine. Perhaps even having sex with it. And then “Directed by Mr. Gable” comes across the screen and we fade to black.

27 Years Later…

Throughout the movie Billy will be cutting off people’s faces and replacing them with his own so he can assume a ridiculous amount of identities.

But before that, after the opening credits, we open up on a shopping mall. It’s Christmas Eve and its FULL of people. Like insanely full. Everything is fairly peaceful, Christmas music is playing, people are laughing and making out, and then all of a sudden a Jeep explodes through the front entrance. It stops in the middle of the mall where the most people are. Santa Billy gets out, wearing the face of the mayor. He goes to the back and rips off the tarp that was covering a massive machine gun (think the new Rambo movie). Everybody scatters and Billy locks and loads the weapon and then shouts with glee, “Ho Ho Ho, you’ve all been naughty!” And kills hundreds of people.

All this in the first 10-15 minutes of the movie. We have effectively caught the attention of our viewers.

Then the cops show up and Billy makes a run for it…through the changing room of the mall Santa’s. He makes an escape but not before killing one more person. The janitor. He cuts off his face and assumes his identity, walking off screen a free man.

And the janitor would be played by none other than Clancy Brown.

It will take the power of a Highlander to bring this series back to life.

Then we cutscene into a glorious sex scene. Maybe even a 3-way. But for the purposes of the story it’ll probably just remain a two-some. (I KNOW! LAAMMEE!) It’s pretty hot, the chick has a magnificent rack and we all oogle at her.

Then it ends and we’re left with the drama of their situation. They are cops and they are partners. They love each other and bone all the time but they refuse to actually go together and have to keep their love secret. Blah Blah Blah. Nobody cares but there has to be some kind of stupid subplot right?

Then they get the call that there’s been a horrible murder at the mall and they go there to investigate. They get there and they are filled in on the situation while at the same time showing some amazing special effects of the dead bodies.

The next 30-40 minutes are spent watching Billy murder a couple dozen people in amazing ways and watching the cops try to figure it out. Billy gets more and more creative with each kill…Saws-alls, Chainsaws, Snowblowers, etc. Each time saying something about them being Naughty and PUNISH! It’ll be awesome, trust me.

The cops then start to discover a pattern. It’s very similar to a spree of murders that happened during Billy’s first killing spree. EXACTLY. So they head him off at the pass and catch him in the act of murdering someone else. Billy then knocks out the male cop and tries to PUNISH the female cop. She rips of his face and he runs away like a little bitch.

Also, he kidnaps a pregnant woman that was in the house.

This leads to an exciting and triumphant chase scene. We’ll do it in the vein of The Toxic Avenger…and we’ll see a ton of people getting run over in horrible ways. And Billy gets away after foiling the cops by turning his headlights off.

When some of SNDN6's source material comes from The Toxic Avenger,
How can you go wrong?

“Where’d he go?” the male cop will say dumbfoundedly.

Cutscene. Billy drops the chick off at his shack and ties her up to the bed. He explains to her that he has one last thing to do and leaves. He gets back in the truck and heads back to town. To the cops apartment.

And another sex scene. NOW we can have the threesome. Maybe the secretary or her best friend is in on it now. You know…a little threesome to blow off some steam after losing Billy.

And just at the climax…the secretary chicks head is cut off with an axe. Classic. Blood spurts all over the place and shit hits the fan. Billy continues to “axe” everyone but keeps missing. One of the cops find their gun and shoots him. He gets up and flees the apartment.

And for some reason the cops stop to take the time to put their clothes on. Cuz that’s what happens in these fucking movies…they always have to pause at the most crucial moment.

So Billy gets away and is in another car chase. The cops catch up with him and shoot out his tires. The Santa Billy gets out of the car and runs towards the cops. The cops shoot him, find him dead. And that’s the end.

But it isn’t. The cops (or maybe the ambulance crew) find out it’s not really Billy but it was just a Clancy Brown mask on some random dude and Billy is really alive.

Dum Dum Dummm...

Back at the shack. The camera is looking out a window. It pans down to the pregnant woman. Then it pans down further to see her belly…all cut open. The fetus has been removed. The camera then follows the blood trail to the other side of the room where Billy is sitting at table, his morbid face shrouded in candlelight. The newborn is sitting in his Santa hat crying. He picks up the child, holds it in his hands, and says, “You are not naughty. You’ll never be naughty. But there are those out there that ARE naughty. Horrible people. They must be PUNISHED. And I will teach you how to PUNISH them.”

He then holds up an Eric Freeman mask.

The End.
Total running time: 74 minutes.

And that my friends is how you do a Silent Night, Deadly Night sequel.

BAD MOVIE REVIEW: Silent Night, Deadly Night 5: The Toy Maker

The Silent Night, Deadly Night series. We started out on a high note with Part 1 and the Psycho Santa, Part 2 slid into the eyebrow shifting Garbage Day killer, and then we revived the comatose killer in Part 3 for a 90 minute bore-a-thon, then in Part 4 we were introduced to “The Lesbianing” (Thank you Alcohol Paul for enlightening me to this term), and now Part 5.

Mickey Rooney is…

The Toy Maker. Ah fuck yes. Thank you SNDN Part 5 for existing. I was so fucking worried about this series until Part 5. It’s insane, it’s crazy, it’s ridiculous, it stars Mickey Rooney, and yes it has nothing to do with the previous installments, but you know what?


Finally! A movie in a series of CHRISTMAS HORROR MOVIES that actually has something to do with CHRISTMAS! Parts 3 & 4 were extremely light on old St. Nick but Part 5 is all about the Christmas. And I applaud it for that.

SNDN 5 is basically a twisted take on the Pinocchio story. There’s quite a few obvious references to the original story…character names: Giphetto, Joe Petto; Pinocchio, Pino; that kind of thing. But that’s more or less the entire subplot. Which turns into the main plot by the end of the movie. Worked for me! Something CREATIVE came out of this series. Wow. My mind is blown.

The main story is about this kid that wakes up and sees his dad murdered by a mysterious toy that ends up at his house one night. And from that point on the kid is unable to speak or refuses to. And THANK GOD! I hate when they get kids into these horror movies and they try to act cuz we all know with low budget movies like this these kids are annoying as hell. SNDN 5: Not the case. But anyway…the widow and her son press on and try to make the best of Christmas. They go to the toy store where we meet Mickey Rooney and his son. (The aforementioned Joe Petto and Pino) And we also meet some stranger that’s buying up crazy toys. A lot of pointless stuff happens over the next 20-30 minutes. The plot develops a little, the stranger’s purpose becomes clear and then the cool shit happens.

It’s from this point that I felt really made this movie shine. I love absurdity and here it is. There’s a babysitter scene where she’s getting busy with her boyfriend. They were supposed to be watching the silent child. Well, Mickey Rooney shows up and drops off his evil toys and they come to life and start murderin’. It was so stupid but at the same time I couldn’t turn away. It almost felt like a Puppet Master sequel for a few minutes. Just watching that fucking superhero action figure fly through the air and punch that chick in the face repeatedly was simply…awe inspiring.

And I kept imagining Mickey Rooney springing from the closet and screaming:
"Jiminy Jilickers Radioactive Man!"

And the movie comes to a creepy creepy close and we’re all the better for it.

I was pretty satisfied with this movie. There were quite a few times where I was like “what the fuck” and laughing hysterically. And that’s the way I like watching these kinds of movies. If I can’t just dissolve into nothingness and enjoy some mindless fun then it’s not worthy of my time. And that’s pretty much what this is, mindless fun.

Brian Yuzna…you may remember him from Part 4. He directed and produced Part 4 (he may have even helped write it). He also produced and directed some of the Re-Animator series along with other amazing horror movies. Well he sits back in the producers seat with SNDN 5, which apparently is a good thing. I know Yuzna and he loves gore and decent effects…and that’s what we get with SNDN 5. There’s a pretty fucking sweet scene where this guys face is penetrated by a toy. I won’t say anymore but let me tell you, it was awesome.

This isn't it but I just thought I'd point out how this movie loves to
keep showing how "cockless" Pino is. Over and over and over again.

So overall…I’d recommend this movie. It stands alone but they all pretty much do. I don’t understand why the main characters from Part 4 (Kim and Ricky) make an appearance in this movie. Even though Ricky is supposedly dead...again. Maybe Yuzna just liked them and wanted them here for some reason. But other than that it was a pretty enjoyable Christmas horror flick. I’d recommend putting this one into your holiday shit-o-thon as well. It was worth it.