Oct 30, 2013

3 Ghastly Offerings from Your Favorite Two-Headed Sheep of Doom

Halloween is here! That time of year when you send your children out to snatch candy from the hands of pedophiles, cannibals, soul-sucking demons and possibly even liberal atheist transvestites.

How could I ignore Halloween? It makes me feel alive. Why, if I weren’t reduced to the miserable state of a brain in a jar, I might even take to the streets with my imaginary children and trick or treat for a couple of hours. Mostly trick, because I’m a grown man and I can pay for my own candy, thank you very much. But the look on somebody’s face when you just dumped a mountain of bloody skulls on their front yard? Priceless.

Although I do none of these things, because I’m a brain in a jar and you shouldn’t trust anything I say. Anyhoo, my benevolent captors/caretakers, the Alopecia Remediation Society, have hooked up my corpus callosum to a bionic hand, so now I can type on a computer to keep this blog thing going. 

All this to say I’ve got some story prompts for you – and all of them faithfully edited by my supervisor’s pet marmoset, Guillaume (he’s from France or Canada, I forget which), so you know this is quality stuff. Go nowhere else for your Halloween story prompts, we’ve got you covered! Whatever that means.

© John Magnet Bell


Shumway collected clumps of his wife’s hair; Stimson, who collected bird skulls and wanted to make little wigs for his featherless friends, did not know of it. One time as Stimson walked to his mailbox he and Shumway locked eyes. “Hey, I’ve got the same shirt,” said Shumway.


Bancroft and Evermore followed the white crows for three nights and a day, even as hope dwindled.
Before a small and cheerless fire, Evermore blew his nose.
“A pox on you,” he said to Bancroft. “The Golden Gorge is a legend.”
“The white crows exist, do they not?” Bancroft asked.


The last ten years of her life blossomed into a marinade of cat piss and dry flowers. The hungry thing ate her husband, then her children one by one. At night it whispered; it wanted more people to eat. She placed an ad in the local paper.

Do not ask me what this is. I don't think you want to know.

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And oh, there's definitely a Halloween playlist coming tomorrow.

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