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POST-HOLLOWEAN 1997 SCARY SPECIEL!!!!

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"GIT UP, BOY!"

All at once i was startoled back into reallity...Or was it?

"CLEAN UP THIS HERE MESS," i heard Granfather scream. His shirt was totalley off. The clock chimed. It was exactley midnight, the comencment of Friday, Octobor 31st.

The old bastord smacked me with the back of his hand. "YOU DONE BEEN SLEEPIN' ON THE FLOOR FOR 3 HOURS, YOU DANM LAZY ASS SUMBITCH."

"AND YOU DONE MISSED E.R....
...'COURSE, IF YOU WANNA SEE DRIBBLY BLOOD AN SCALPOLS, LOOKY UP HERE AT ME."

Granfather was whiter than evor. I reeled in a daze. As he wheeled to smack me once more, the flat steel rivits of the knife handol which horrobly prottruded from his chest, glinted in the light of the flickoring blue glow of the TV.

I demmanded he tell me excatly what hapenned with his date last night. Somthin spookey was goin on, and me and the old blanched coot had to figoure out what it was.

I get the story

"ME AN THE NASTY LOOKIN' HOE WAS SMOOCHIN' THAR IN MUCH BED," Granfather began, (in a story that i feel started off as just as frightenningly disgcousting as aneything without this added spook factor).

"AND SHE SAYS TO ME, 'YOU WANNA JOIN THE CLUB, GRANPY?', AND I SAYS TO HER, 'SURE THING'."

"NEXT THING I KNOW SHE UP AN' SINKS HER DANM TEETH IN MUH NECK...BITCH MUSTA HAD ON SOME EXTRA STRENTH POLYGRIP CAUSE I COUDNT PRY HER UGLY OLE HEAD LOOSE."

I said to him, "Granfather you know what this means? She was a Vampire!" I also told him that this explians why his face was so pale: The womon must of sucked his vains dry and then left the house beffore sunrise cause vampiers hafto be indoors when its daylight.

"A VAMP'AAR?" he repplied, his normolly red eye pupils now a blank, gaunt lavender, "HELL NO. YOURE CRAZY, BOY."

Then the old bastord very nonchallontly said for me to turn the TV channol to Charly Rose on PBS and get him a cigarette and a toothpick cause a peice of the steake was stuck in his back molors and also drive into town with the shotgun and that old zinc pail we have on the porch under the guttor to catch the leaks when it rains and shoot me some drunk down by the tracks an let him blead in the bucket as he died.

"AN BRING ME THE BLUDD!!!" he screemed like a banshee. "I NEEDS BLUDD! I NEEDS BLUDD!" he wailed an he toled me if i didnt do what he said, he woud kill me--and even if i DID do it he might kill me aneyway--despite even that i was danm near (in his words) as annemicly pale skinned as him to begin with--even if I wasnt a vampire like he was.

I reffused.

i told him i woudnt tollorate that ONE BIT and instead we were callin the doctor. The old bloodless beast broke in a broad, browntoothed grin. "GOOOD," he said slowley, "I FANCY I'D LIKE THET."

I called the doctor who was very pissed to be called so late. On Granfathers instructtions i told him that the old bastord had a eight inch knife in his scraggley chest to the hilt.

The Doctor brakes into tears.

They were tears of joy. As you know he hates the old monster. It is his longgstanding fantacy to declaire the old Son Offa bich dead. Sobbing in glorioius extacy, he tells me over the phone that he will speed here as fast as he can.

"LOOKY HERE, BOY!"

Granfather was enjoyying bein a Vampirre. He twistad the knife arround and it made a cracking noise. "THIS IS FUN!" he creid. "VAMP'AARS KICK ASS!" Then he quickley rolled his wheelchiar into the kitchon and opened the big drawor and rummaged arround for the apple corer. When he found it, he dug it into his side, and more blood spourted out allover the danm floor.

"WHERE THE HELL'S THET OLE BULLET MUH BROTHER ZEKE DONE PLANTED IN ME WHEN WE WUZ BOYS?" he said jabbing wildley.

It was a giant mess. No mattor what the circumstantces he always has to make a friggin scene. Disgusting bastord.

Just then the Doctor drove up.

I nevor saw someone so shockingley happy. He looked like the peopple who just had the Prize Patrole come to their house aftor the Super Bowl, ecxept he had a bottol of champagine undor his arm.

Chattoring like an exhillorated lovestruck schoolgirl, the doctor first profuseley thanked me for killing Granfather, and said that my $1,000 Savings Bond, (a longstanding prommise to any of us Millers who took up his offor to "off" the old ogre) woud be arivving shortley by certiffied mail.

The Doctor said (also as prommised) that he'd make sure the death certiffocate shows that the wound is self-inflictad, plus to show his grattitude, he was willing evven to tampor with the eviddence to make it look like a suiccide and woud testiffy undor oath to sutch if needed.

"Now where's the happy cadavver?" said the doctor, his favvorite fountian pen in one hand, a blank Death Certificcate in the othor.

YaaaaaaHH!!

A naturol responce to be sure of anyone upon seeing Granfather, (even outside of a grizly Holloween dream seqquence like this one). But as he saw Granfather, and abbsorbed the shock of him being both alive AND with a knife in him, the poor doctor had no choice but scream...And an instant lator: He coundt make so much as a squeek and merely froaze in fear when the elderly ghoul came after him with that shovol....

Wack! ...Hack! ...Wack!

"GO GIT ME MUH BEST MARGARRITA GLASS, BOY!" the beast hollared at me when he finnished icing the Doc, "THE SONOMA-WILLIAMS ONE WITH THE LIL' GLASS CACTUS BLOWED ON THE STEM."

"AN' GIT ME ONE O'THEM FANCY TISSUE PAPER UMBRELLERS FROM THE LIQOUR CHEST."

As Granfather sucked the blood from the poor lifeless fiftyish corpse which probly still had outstanding medicol school loans, I reallized it was almost sunrise. In just a few hours i woud have to head off on my long drive to work, and the old bastord woud haveto be under wraps or else disinteggrate as vampires do in the light of the day.

Id almost forgotton this was the 31st and i quickley dressed for a fun Haloween party that I expected that day at my job. While makking myself breakfest I happenned to open the quart of milk on the "illegal" side of the carton, (the one your not suposed to open). Granfather wheeled up to me, shouting and callin me all sort of mean names, and howling on that now the milk is spoiled.

It is like living with a danm howler monkey

Did you evor see one of those battory operrated monkeys made in Taiwan that grins and shreiks and rappidly crashes those cheap metal cymbells togethor? Just annother temper tantrum with my ghastly ancestor.

Yes, this is the old abbusive coot for you. He just killed the danm doctor, (who we still owed money), drank his blood, took the poor guys danm wallet, and sent him down the garbege disposol; (Dont even ask: Peopple with cesspools arent evon suposed to HAVE garbege dispossols). Yet HE is angrey at ME for "spoiling the danm milk."
Oh, Puh-LEEZE. You woud think his selfish stuppid behhavoir woud change upon joining the proud traddition of Vampiorhood.

Think agian: Hell-LOOO, This is GRANFATHER we are talkin abbout.

I finaly Leave

i figoured the old troll woud stay out of trouble being we are so isollated where we are. I had read once on the web that vampires dont fart, they never crap, (which means no adult diapers evor need to be changed), and other than a genneral smell of death there wasnt any partculorly bad body odor. Older vamps over age 60 do need a bit more iron, (perhapps a little extra Gerritol), and fresh blood suposedley has ennough resident calcium to ward off degennirate osteoporrosis. Plus I'd been tryin to keep Granfather off of elephent garlic too, which hes addicted to aftor first seeing it on the Frugol Gourmet a few months back. But now, as a vampier, the bastord was ALLERGIC to garlic. And he was guarranteed not to EVER go outside durin the day....

i started to think to myself...

...Ive had him as a beast. Ive had him as a brute. Ive had him as an alien. Ive had him as a monstor. But i think i was going to LIKE having Granfather as a vampire.

"MAKE SURE YOU BUY THEM SMOKES THIS TIME," the old bastord ghoul cryed as i left. "PLUS I'M ALL OUT OF FIBER-CON."

"AN' BE SURE AN' BRING ME SOME VITTLES FROM THE WORKPLACE!" he yapped out the window, his vorracious, carnivvorously reptilian eyes cravenly dancing with appettite, a string of hungry drool on his chin, glisseningly tainted a faint lilac tone from the rosy dawn just now apearing on the horrizon.

And like a charging, rutting lunging bloodlusting savvage animol he bellowed lustily:

"I'M IN THE MOOD FER GEEK! I WANTS ME SOME FRESH BLOODD OF A DEAD GEEK!"

As i drove off i sudenly reallized that perhaps, mabye, considoring the circimstantces....i was olny too glad to obblige...

Friday at Work

Once more i am houmilliated. First, i am the victim of a crule trick. On Wedndsday there was a genoral announcement sent out as an e-mail saying that the whole office, which is, like 40 people, woud have a "Gender-Bendor Holloween Costume Party". The e-mail distrobbution list included everyone at the location and it said:

COME DRESSED IN YOUR COSTUME TO WORK -- PARTY FROM NOON TILL 3.

I have only heard of a "gendor bender" costumme party one time beffore, when i lived in California. How it works is this: The women at the office all dress in a traditionol men's costume, like Rambo or the Mummy or Frankonstein while all the men dress like a flapper or a bobby soxer or a Fairy godmothor or Xena the Warrier Princess--Or mabye just in a dress. It is really allot of fun to see evveryone in their costumes, I haveto tell you.

Aneyway, Granfather's hiddeous girlfreind who used to live here had left behind some clothes plus I knew we had a giant roll of pink puffy netting in one of the back sheds and also leottards that (thank God) the old hag had nevor wore but were still in the shrinkwrap packagge.

I have writton about this woman before and as you know she was an extremly gaudey and tacky dresser (lots of bright colors and leopard designes) so to make a long story short I came into work on Haloween dressed like a tacky-mismatched-leoppard-skin-and-bright Pink Ballorina who had allot of ladies makeup on.

WELL GEUSS WHAT