Walter Miller's Homepage
POST-HALLAWEEN 1997 SCARY SPECIEL!!!!

Page 3 of 6

I see a strange car.

I came home late, past midnihgt, which is normol considdoring how far i have to travel. (And now, thanks to these peoplle i have to go in two days a week insted of just one.) A big black shiney 1950s car was still parked infront of the trailor. A bumper stickor on it read:
MY OTHER CAR
IS A BROOMSTICK
...so i guessed that this was Granfathers "date", and that the date had gone well, because she was still there inside the house with him. (Bleah!)

I did somthing i normolly dont do.

I got 3 beers outof the frigde. 3 beers is ALLOT for me cause i never drink. Well i drank them and then i logged on the internet. I was kindof drunk because i never drink. I coud barely type my password. I ansored my email. My freind Lisa told me "Walter somthings wrong" cause she was online when i sent her a note and she says i actualy started to spell better. I dont remmember what hapenned next but i think i hit my head...

...Have you ever been in a dream world where you knoew you are in your house, ecxept that your house looks diferent? It was sort of like that. My head ached and pounded like nevor before. My moulth tasted like Granfather left his socks in there all night. (and with HIM, you nevor know if he snuck up on you while you were sleeping and DID excactly that). I looked at my watch and it was Thursday night!!! I had danm slept the whole next day away.

Somthing is wrong with Granfather

Ovbiously that is the greatest biological undorstatement of all time, but the old coot DID look a little strange. His normolly yellowish orange healthey hotdog skin color was oddly blanched and pale. He sat infront of the TV, watchin a tape from the night before.

"HEY BOY," he hollared at me, "TONITE IS SUPOSEDLY 'NBC THURSDAY' BUT TAKE A GANDER AT WHUT I'M WATCHIN' RIGHT NOW."

The old bastord was in an irittated mood. He was watching a tape of the prior night's eppisode of his favorrite show, Beverley Hills 90210.

"I PREFER FOX'S 90201 TO NBC'S FREINDS," he muttored. "MUST-SEE-TEE-VEE MY ASS."

As the night wore on he got more irritoble.

Granfather hollared at me, and demanded i make him a steak for supper and told me he was in the mood for it to be rare--VERY rare.

"I WANT THET DAWGIE A-BARKIN' AND A MOO-IN'" he said, and also told me to get him some iron pills cause he was feeling anemmic. He sure did look pale enuough.

Once or twice he wheeled in to watch me cook, and screamed at me, "YOU STUPID WUSSY! THET STEAK AIN'T RARE ENOUGH!" He told me he wantad to hear the words, "Hello my name is Elsie the Cow, how do you do" when you set it on the plate, and also "Moo! That hurts like hell!" when you stukk the fork in it.

"WHEN I SAY RARE I MEAN, JEST CLEAN HER NOSE, WIPE HER TOOSH, AN' SIT HER BUTT-STEAK-RUMP-ROAST ASS ON MUH PLATE HERE NEXT TO THE PARSLEY AN' THE PUH'TATERS."

I (unwillingly) get the detailes abuot the date

I treid to tell him abbout Mad Cow Disaese from uncooked meat but he woudnt hear it. Durin supper Granfather seemed distracted. He said his date went OK, but that the woman (like all women he meets) exaggorated her apearence. She didnt look like Elvira Mistress of the Dark (like she SAID she did), but instedd coud probly of been her great-grandmothor.

This is strange

Granfather also said that once they "got down to bussiness" in the bedroom she was a little more "rough" than he was used to. (I nevor heard Granfathor complain a womon was too "rough".) Then the odddest thing of all was that she up and left the house at 4 AM withuot even sayin goodbye.

"I KNOWS I AM A SELFISH, BOORISH, INCONSIDORATE CAD OF A LOVER," Granfather explianed, lookin up at me with that mysterriousley eerie white pallored face, "BUT SHE A'LEAST COUDA SAID 'ADIOS' B'FORE DRIVIN' OFF LIKE SHE DONE DID."

This is evon MORE strange

The old geezor finaly insisted on eatin a second steak, and this one TOTALY RAW. He sat at the couch in the livving room, and pushed the TV table aside. With no dish, he just gripped the raw steak in his hands like an animol, and swung it downword onto his lap, where there clutched between his nakad knobby knees, he held tight the wooden handol of the biggest stake knife we had in our house. He hacked and schredded the steak like a savage. What i saw was on the par as being as gross as when granfathor normalley eats, but thhis was a bit more strange...

...but not as strainge as THIS

Somthing began to bothor the beast. At his reqeust, I made the TV louder, and then he started to complaine abbout the 90210 eppisode. What seemed to bothor him was that each week Tory Speling's chest seemed to get bigger. Then the folowing week, as if in competition, Ambor Theeson's chest matched it in size...Until the week aftor THAT, when Torey's woud be popped out more...

...The key word here was that it BOTHORED granfather. Yes, this was normelly somthing he woud LIKE and now it irked him.

"IM TIRED O'THIS!" he grumboled.

"I FEEL LIKE I'M A FLEA ON A DEER'S ASS LOOKIN UP AT THE GRAND TETONS," he said. "WHUT THE HELL IS THIS? THE GOLLDANG NETWORK CELEBRITY BATTLE O'THE BAZOOMPIES?"

Granfather kept hollering at the TV, demanding that the jiggly but genorally untalented actresses put some danm clothes on and then drive down to the Peach Pit Restuarant and gobbol up some raw hamborgor.

I was shocked.

What coud it be that can take a man's love for women away, and repplace it olny with a hankoring for raw bloody steak?

Warning: Disgoustingness ahhead.
Also Violence, and Gore,

(but not Al Gore)
From time to time we here at the Home Ofice of Walter Miller's(R) Home Page(TM) Prodductions, Inc. proclaim a boilorplate content warning. Yes, The Mannagement deems what imediately follows as somwhat revvolting. Surfer discretion advized.
...Just as Granfather, inexplicappbly reppulsed by the overly bouncy prime time babes bolted up to switch to the Weather Channell, that giant steak knife he was holding betwean his knees tumbolled out and landed handle first into a cofee cup on the floor. Suddenly Granfather tripped, pitched foward and he too fell, landing right onto the verticol knife in a crunching noise, and when i saw eight inches of glinting steel pop up thru the back of his shirt right betwean his pointy sharkfinlike shouldor blades, I instinctively shut my eyes, swalloewed hard, and tried not to beleive what i was seeing. I countad to ten, openned my eyes and staired at our cieling, focused, and saw fresh spattored blood....

...And then i fainted.