Choose your own Horror

Here’s the deal. It’s Halloween. I thought I’d try something a little different and see what happens. I’m going to start a story. It is your job to finish it in either a horrific or humorous manner. That way when we’re done we’ll have a single beginning, and as many different endings as possible. So let’s get started!

The Arbor

Jonathan had been waiting at the bus stop for at least an hour. It was Halloween night and he’d just come from a costume party. He had dressed as Jack Black. It didn’t go over too well… no one could identify him without asking who he was first. Despondent, he left the party early hoping to grab the bus and be home by midnight.

And now it was quarter to twelve and there was no sign of a bus. He cursed, turned, and started walking home. It was a long walk, but nothing he hadn’t done before.

His feet ached. It was all he could think about. He stared at his feet as he walked forward, oblivious of anything else. After a while of mindlessly walking, he looked up and realized he was lost. The clear night had fogged over and he couldn’t see much beyond a single city block. There was a grape Arbor off the side of the sidewalk.

He paused. If this Arbor led into Mirror Lake Park, he could probably cut through and get home without wasting any time going back…

His feet still ached.

He groaned and walked through the arbor. He wasn’t 50 strides into the park when the fog got very dense. he lost the path and started aimless walking through 6 inches of fallen leaves. The shuffling of his feet through the leaves was loud. “Jonathan…”

He stopped. Did someone just say his name?

Your job is to take it from here! Conclude the story in your own unique way in the comments. Hopefully we’ll get a couple people to give it a shot and we’ll have a handful of fun Halloween conclusions. Good luck!

13 thoughts on “Choose your own Horror

  • 10/31/2006 at 7:19 pm

    Jonathan looked around him, but he could see little else but fog and the vague shapes of trees in the darkness. Must have been my imagination, he thought, and carried on walking.

    Thirty seconds later there was a gust of wind that sent leaves swirling around him. A second time, he could have sworn he heard a voice coming from darkness.


    Jonathan paused again, the hairs rising on the back of his neck. He’d definitely heard his name that time.

    “Hello?” he called out, hoping it was just one of his friends from the party who was trying to freak him out. But the only answer was the rustling of the leaves in the trees around him.

    The wind began to pick up again, and the rustling got louder.

    “Jonathan! Jonathan!”

    He was sure now that he could hear his name. He stood rooted to the stop, paralised with fear.

    “What… what do you want?” He called out to the darkness, his voice shaking. The wind whirled around him, throwing up a vortex of leaves and debris.

    “Jonathan! Jonathan!

    “What? WHAT?!” He screamed into the maelstrom.

    “Your costume sucks, Jonathan!” Replied the voice, the last syllables fading away to a whisper as the gale died down to a light breeze. “Your costume suuuucccckkkkssss….”

  • 11/1/2006 at 7:10 am

    Nope. He was mistaken. No one called his name. Tired and weary Jonathan was able to make it home before sunrise. What a crappy night he thought.

  • 11/1/2006 at 8:08 am

    Slightly agitated that someone would be messing with him in this fog rather than help him out he sulks as he continues on his path.


    For the love Pete will they just jump out and scare me allready thinks Jonathan.

    The mists start to swirl in front of him and a bluish tinge to the fog.
    What now? he thinks to himself.

    Out of the fog emerges two translucent figures, both slightly round in the midsection and one balding. The apparation on the right is immediately recognizable since he has spent the entire evening trying to emulate his very appearance.

    “Jonathan. My friend. It is I Jack Black the Lyrical Genius of the Greatest Band in the world…TenaciousD. I have led you astray to meet with you. I feel your angst. People just don’t know how difficult it is to copy a Rock God such as myself.”

    “B-b-b-but ho…wha…whats going on?”, stammers Jonathan.

    “We are here to bring you together with a similar soul. A young man has gone in costume as my Life Friend Kyle here, and has had a similar outcome with the ladies at his party. You are to find him and together you will rock the Freaking socks off Halloween this year.”

    Still not beleiving what he is seeing, Jonathan can reply in the only way he knows how, “Where can I find this person?”

    “In the East is a club, the Lamplighter. Go there and seek out Franklin. he will have what you need. He was our most loyal Roadie when we were on our 2002 World Tour.”, Replies the Specter of Kyle.

    Infused with a new sense of purpose on this most Hallowed of Eves Jonathan begins to ask another question the 2 ghosts begin to wail on their ethereal guitars and rock the socks off the Gods themselves. In screaming wail of musical ecstasy and wind the fog is lifted and the 2 phantasms are gone, leaving our hero with a new sense of purpose.

    “……Kyle my friend. I will find you.”, announces Jonathan as he begins the long trek towards the Lamplighter.

    To be continued when I get a break in my work…..

  • 11/1/2006 at 9:09 am

    Jonathon decided he was imagining things and continued to shuffle through the leaves. Then he heard the voice again, but it wasn’t really a voice. The words were just there, in his mind.

    “Jonathon, stop!” the words commanded. He didn’t stop. He ran, stumbling through impossibly high drifts of leaves.

    “Jonathon, you must stop!”

    Jonathon tried to run faster. He couldn’t see anything. All he could do was run. He must outrun the words. He didn’t care anymore if he got home. He just wanted to be free of the fog and the words and the leaves.

    On he ran, seemingly to nowhere. He ran until he thought he couldn’t run anymore. Then the ground opened up beneath his feet and he fell. He fell forever through the foggy darkness, the words flashing in mind: “You should have stopped.”

  • 11/1/2006 at 11:10 am

    Jonathon turned around, and saw a figure through the fog. He walked toward it, and saw a blonde, middle-aged man standing in the grape arbor. Jonathon remembered meeting him at the party, his name was Rick.

    “Hey Rick, what’s up?”

    “Just walking home, and I’d rather not walk through the park by myself. Mind if I join you?”

    “Sure dude. Hey, what were you dressed as again?”

    “I’m Jack Bauer, from 24. See, I’ve got this toy gun and a cellphone.”

    “Oh yeah, that’s right.”

    They were about to head into the park when a few more of the party-goers joined their party as well. Stacy, Jen, and Ann were all roommates, and they lived just across the park. They were dressed as Rosie O’Donnell, the loud almost-funny lady, and that blonde psycho from “The View”. They played into the part by talking over each other a lot and being annoying. Jonathon found himself wishing he could change the channel.

    Heh, that’s funny, change the channel. I should write that down or somethin-

    His thoughts were interrupted by a gigantic flaming spectre rising from the earth immediately in front of the group. It was cloaked in tattered black robes, and stood towering over them while a cold inferno raged about it. It had the head of an enourmous Jack-o-lantern. The women shrieked while Rick and Jonathon quietly choked for air.

    I am the protector of Halloween,” the apparition bellowed in an eldritch tone “and you have perverted my charge beyond measure.“. The fog had quickly thickened all around them , but did not conceal any of the gruesome details of the figure from their petrified gaze.

    The pumpkin-headed ghast raised its right appendage to reveal that it was holding an enormous scythe. It lifted the point of the scythe above the head of one of the girls.

    Just what the hell are you supposed to be?

    “I… I… I’m Joy Behar. From the View, you know, that dayti-”

    Silence! I know all. And you,” the scythe moved over the head of the more heavy-set girl. “Are you supposed to be Meredith? Because she left the show a couple months ago, and don’t you think you’re a little big to be her?

    “I… I’m Rosie O’Donnel. She, she re-re-re”

    Oh crap, that’s right. She did replace Meredith.” The pumpkin-head pivoted towards the third woman.

    So I guess that means you are the skinny blonde woman at the end of the table?

    She nodded hesitatingly.

    As a group, I guess that works, kinda. I’ll let you pass.

    The scythe moved over to Rich, who was looking at his companions for support.

    What are you supposed to be, an old man clinging to his youth?” the spectre intoned.

    “I-I-I, I’m Jack Bauer. From twenty-four.”

    Hmmm. I don’t really see it. He’s got kind of a unique look you know? But that show is awesome. Good thing I’ve got TiVo, otherwise…” the spectre cleared its throat, or made a sound that was a close approximation thereof. It did not appear to have any throat. The supernaturally green flames surrounding it flared up slightly. “Anyways, that’s it?

    Rich pulled out his toy gun and cell phone, and held them up towards the ghoulish form.

    Ugh.” The enormous scythe slowly moved over Jonathons head. As Jonathon stared at it, he felt his bones quiver as the voice was finally directed at him.

    Mortal, what hideous visage have you taken upon yourself on this dark All-Hallow’s Eve?

    Jonathon wiped his running nose with the back of his sleeve. He could hear the blood in his ears pounding out the rhythym of his heart.

    “I’m Jack Black.”

    No sooner had the hard “k” sound left his throat than the grisly scythe above him rose to three times it’s previous height. The sudden movement caught him unawares, and Jonathon jerked from fear. He stared at the gigantic blade hovering in the air a hundred feet above him. It only stayed there for a fraction of a second before plunging to bisect Jonathons body with a horrifying display of grim force. The halves of Jonathons corpse were hardly recognizeable, being reduced to piles of blood-stained flesh on either side of the towering blade as it stuck into earth in between what was left of his legs.

    That is the worst idea for a costume ever.

  • 11/1/2006 at 11:36 am

    The cigarette smoke was thick in the Lamplighter that evening. The bar was a typical dive; an empty stage, several passed out drunks and a wheezy old jukebox droning on in the corner. Jonathan felt out of place as he walked up to the bar.

    “uuhhh…a rum and coke, please.” Jonathan told the seedy looking bartender.
    After an obviously disgusted look the bartender grudginly made the drink. After a sip of his cocktail Jonathan took a cursory glance around looking for someone that might possibly be a Roadie of the D. Stumped he gathered up his courage from the bottom of his glass and asked the bartender,

    “I’m looking for someone. Franklin is his name. I was told he would be here.”

    “Ain’t no one here by that name.” spat the bartender.

    “Are you sure? he would have been a roadie at one time.”


    “Followed the band TenaciousD around in early 2000?”

    Leaning on the bar the bartender growled, “like I said ‘friend’, there ain’t no one
    here by that name.” And with a decisive snort he picked up his towel and
    went to the far end of the bar.

    No one here by that name? How could that be? The D told me he would be here? Jonathan, whats wrong with you. You probably hallucinated the whole damn thing. God your pathetic.

    With this morbid thoughts in his head he stood up and left a 10 on the bar. As he stepped out side into the cool autumn air he took a deep breath to settle his mind.

    “I heard you were looking for Franklin?” A sweet voice with a southern drawl said behind him.

    With a rush of excitement Jonathan whirled around to find himself staring at a Blonde haired woman. Standing a full head taller than himself Jonathan was taken aback by the sheer size of her. Of an obviously bigger build than most woman she could have easily tossed him around. But there was no doubt that she was a woman.

    “I haven’t been called Franklin since, oh…wow…about 4 years ago.”

    “..You’re Franklin?” an amazed Jonathan asked.

    “Well…My name is Francine, Franny for short. But when I toured with Tenacious D they thought it would be “Rocktacular” to call me Franklin. After a few shows it grew on me…and it stuck.”

    It was true! It totally happened! Jon thought to himself.

    “Yeah I am looking for you Franny. The ghosts of TenaciousD visited me in a grape arbor and told me to find my Halloween Counterpart, Kyle. And to do that I had to find you here tonight. Can you help me?”

    “……Are you drunk? Are you trying to tell me the ghosts of two men, who are still alive by the way, told you to find someone who dressed up like Kyle for Halloween. AND they told you that I was to help you find this said mysterious person? Is that what your telling me?”

    Nodding his head enthusiastically Jon was filled with a surge of adrenelin as he felt his destiny draw nearer.
    C’mon say you’ll help….I know I can find ‘Kyle’, but I need your help. please please please please let her help me. The thoughts were through his head before he even knew he was thinking them.

    After a pause which seemed like an eternity Franklin looked Jon in the eyes. As if seraching for something her gaze was penetrating. The grey eyes were probing for something. And as quickly as it had started it was over, nodding her head as if she had found what she was looking for she replied,
    “Ok Jon. I’ll help. But first we need to go to the studio. Lets go.”

    What will happen next in this exciting adventure. Stay tuned for after lunch an unexpected twist will have you on the edge of your seat. To Be Continued…

  • 11/1/2006 at 12:15 pm

    He figured he’d imagined it. He started walking again. Then the voice came again, louder and more insistent. “Jonathan!” He walked faster.

    “Jonathan, wait!” It sounded like a girl and she was out of breath. He decided it couldn’t hurt to see what she wanted, after all the evening was shot already. He turned around to see a heavy but short blond chasing him. He vaguely remembered seeing her at that lousy party.

    “Uh…hi?” he said as he tried to remember if he knew her name.

    “Tammy. You don’t know me.”

    “Good. I thought I had amnesia.” He quipped.

    She smiled and removed the blond wig to reveal long flowing hair, the color of burnished copper. As she shook her hair back the park’s lighting system flickered a cheap imitation of lightning, setting fire to the lustrous locks. “Love your costume. Jack Black, right?”

    “Yeah. No one else figured that out.” Jonathan pouted.

    “Well…” she began peeling latex off her face. “It’s probably cause you look nothing like him. You really don’t weigh enough for it. Did you see Kurt’s Nacho Libre? Now HE can be Jack Black!”

    Jonathan wasn’t interested in discussing who would make a better Jack Black than he did. “So, if I don’t know you what do you want?”

    “Do you believe in fate, Jonathan?” She was still peeling the latex from her face. It was half covered, but the half with skin looked smooth and pink.

    “I don’t know.” He was unable to look away from Tammy as she began taking her costume off.

    “Well I do. You see, nobody got my costume either.” At his blank look she added “Rosemary, from Shallow Hal. I saw that you were Jack Black and I just had to find out who you were. You see? The Gods want us to get to know each other.” She stepped out of the enormous outfit it had taken her all this time to unfasten to reveal a lithe and voluptuous figure. “There’s this connection between us already. Our minds work the same way. Plus I hear you’re studying engineering and I think that’s hot. So what do you say? Trick or treat?”

    The pain in his feet forgotten, Jonathan pinched himself and yelped. Tammy smiled. “No, you’re not dreaming. I want you Jonathan. Can we go to your place?”

    “Uh-huh!” He intoned emphatically as she snuggled up against him, her fat suit lost in the mist behind them. They walked to his place and proceeded to rock the night.

    The next morning Jonathan woke up alone. He dropped back on his pillow dejectedly. “Must’ve been a dream.” He said to the ceiling.

    Rolling over he caught a glimpse of copper colored hair on the sheet. His eyes widened as he picked up the treasured strand of Tammy’s hair. “She was real!” In a state of euphoria he grabbed some clothes from the floor and danced to the kitchen. There was a pot of coffee and a post-it note that said “Thanks baby.”

    Jonathan felt ten feet tall as he poured himself a cup of the fragrant java and walked barefoot to the livingroom. But something wasn’t right. The TV was gone. And the stereo. He put his coffee down on the table and sped to the bedroom. His wallet was gone too! And the wad of emergency cash he kept in his sock drawer.

    He flopped down on the bed face first. Tammy’s perfume engulfed him. “If that’s even her name.” He cried out bitterly.

  • 11/1/2006 at 1:05 pm

    Here’s another one…

    Jonathan stood, waiting to see if he heard it again.

    “Jonathan!” the voice cried.

    It was coming from the park. Heedless of the night and his lousy costume, he started toward the sound.

    The voice grew louder as he hurried through the mist. “Jonathan! Please!” Her cries were becoming frantic. Jonathan started to run. As branches whipped his face all he could think of was saving whoever was in trouble.

    “JONATHAN!” He thought it sounded like a girl he knew from biochem class. Her name was Amanda and she was the most adorable creature who ever solved for X. The thought of the lab partner of his dreams in trouble spurred Jonathan on faster, his heart pounding with fear.

    He came to a clearing and found the source of the frantic cries.

    “Jonathan, yes! Yes!” It was Amanda, but she wasn’t in any kind of distress. She was with another guy in a Jack Black costume.

    Embarassed, Jonathan looked down at the ground and saw his best friend’s trainers. Rage boiled inside him as he realized what Rupert had done. It didn’t matter that Amanda obviously thought she was with Jonathan. Betrayal had reared it’s putrid visage and Jonathan saw red.

    He backed into the mist, muttering under his breath about revenge and went in search of Andy. Andy was a rich kid in theater and had a real sword with his Zorro costume. “I will avenge your honor my sweet Amanda.” He cried softly as he searched the parking lot trying to see if Zorro was one of the puking figures.

    Jonathan found Andy and asked if he could borrow the sword. “Are you kidding? This is a genuine recreation of a nineteenth century rapier. It cost me a fortune.”

    Jonathan was too angry to see reason. He lunged at Andy.

    “Hey!” One of the other masked men cried. “Adam Sandler’s attacking a Zorro.”

    From behind a yellow Chevelle, George Armstrong Custer appeared. “Charge!”

    Jonathan was jumped by a group of Andy’s theater buddies. He fought valiantly, but was finally taken down by a punjab lasso.

    “Oh great, Ernie. You killed him!” Frankenstein said.

    “No I didn’t, it’s not a real lasso. It’s a prop.” The Phantom said as he loosened the rope. “Besides, he’s breathing.”

    “You morons.” A caped and fanged kid pushed them aside. He looked down at the unconcious victim and cried out “You broke my heart!” Then leaned down and placed a full smacker on Jonathan’s mouth.

    “Eww! What the &%$ did you do that for?” Andy shouted.

    “He’s not Adam Sandler he’s obviously Fredo Corleone.”

    “So? You’re a vampire.” The Blob interjected.

    “Only half. I’m the love child of Michael Corleone and a vampire he had a one-nighter with in Jersey.”

    “Oh,” The Phantom piped up. “that explains the accent you’ve been using.”

    “Hey, he’s not breathing.” A clown pointed out.

    Andy stared accusingly at the mob vampire. “You had to do the kiss of death, didn’t you Frankie?”

    “But, but…it’s not supposed to work.” Frankie cried desperately.

    “It doesn’t.” Snow White broke through the crowd. “Jonathan is allergic to walnuts. I bet Sucky Corleone here used a lipstick that has walnut oil in it. Anybody have some injectable antihistamines?”

    “I do.” A fat bumblebee called from the back. He waddled toward Adam/Fredo and produced a small syringe.

    Snow White deftly administered the injection and said, “We need to get him to the ER.”

    “Take my car.” James Bond offered. “But be careful. Dad’ll kill me if anything happens to it.”

  • 11/1/2006 at 2:18 pm

    Security was light seeing as it was Halloween and all. After Franny and Jon made it into the studio they went directly to recording booth #12. Jon had never seen the inside of a recording studio and all of this was fascinating. All the dials and switches it looked like an airplane cockpit. A slight cough from Franny brought him back to reality. Franny was standing next to a corner of the sound proofed booth.

    “When you first told me your story Jon, I didn’t beleive you. But looking in your eyes I can tell that you tell the truth. Your story and determination to find the halloween ‘Kyle’ reminded me of one day in the studio 5 years ago. After the final recording of ‘A Tribute’, Kyle and Jack’s Guitar Picks burned with an utherworldly power. The power of the Greatest Song in the World broke the fabric of space and time and had infused the Picks with Power.”

    And with that declaration she gripped the corner of the soundproofing and ripped it from the wall. hidden behind it was a sight to behind. A small cavity was carved into the wall. Within the cavity was two guitar picks. Both suspended in mid air. One glowed Red similar to the burning fires of Hell. The other shone in a Pieceful Blue that radiated Serenity.

    “TenaciousD had the Picks enshrined here and declared One would come to claim them one day. We did as we were told not beleiving that they were actually speaking the truth, but this Night I see the folly of our ways. They truly are rock Gods. You are the one they spoke of.”

    Jonathan had heard nothing of this Prophecy. When he had laid his eyes on the Picks he was entranced by their music. They sang to him. They reached into his soul and brought forth a longing that he had not known was there. He reached out to them and they quivered as he drew closer. Just before he was to grasp them he hesitated, but the Picks would not be denied. The lept from their Vault and into his hand. A burning Fire erupted in his Mind. Not a fire of pain, but the flames of passion burned brighter than any sun could have.
    At that moment a vortex of Ethereal winds erupted in the booth. The two ghosts of TenaciousD were there with them both.

    “Well done Franklin. You have served us well in our times of need. You were always favored among the Roadies.”, Kyle said.

    “Well said my friend,” Jack agreed. “We thank you for leading our charge here to his destiny.”

    Turning there gaze toward Jon, they spoke in unison.

    “Jonathan, you have found the Key that you have looken for. Like a Compass it will lead you towards your other half this evening. As we speak he wanders the city with the Lock. Use the Picks to find him. Cast the Picks on the ground and they will point you in the direction you need to travel. your journey is almost complete.”

    And with flash of light the two apparitions were gone. Amazed at what happened Jonathan could barely contain his excitement. he knealt to the ground and threw the picks down. For a moment nothing happened but ever so slightly they began to quiver. And suddenly the picks flew together to form a crude arrow pointing to the North.

    My journey is almost at its end. I wonder where this will lead me.

    And with that final thought Jonathan strode from the Studio with a new confidance in his step. Not knowing what adventures were in store for him.

    Join us next hour for the Climactic Conclusion, Containing Courageous Characters, Conniving Convicts and Carnivores. To Be Continued…

  • 11/2/2006 at 8:03 am

    What the hell is wrong with these things? They change position every time I use them. Maybe they’re busted?

    Jonathan shakes the picks in his hand trying to nock some sense into them. After 3 hours of walking and trying to find his “Kyle” Jonathan is getting frustrated.

    Just cast the picks and they work like a compass. What a load of crap. Why can’t he stand freaking still.

    As the clock approaches 3:30am Jonathan tosses the picks and something happens that hasn’t happened before. When they rattle and jump into the all to familiar arrow they begin to pulse and glow with an other worldly light. Excitedly he retrieved the picks and hustled around the corner to find himself face to face with a man holding two guitars. He excused himself and hustled past when he stopped himself. Recognition dawned on his weary face as he turned around. Standing in front of him was the object of his quest.

    Excitedly he asked, “Kyle?”

    “Jack? I didn’t think I would ever find you.”

    “Same here Kyle. Its been one long and wie…wait a sec”, Jonathan stammers as he shifts the picks to his left hand extending his right, “My name is Jonathan. Nice costume.”

    “Hehehe. Billy here. Right back at you. I got caught up in this whole thing and almost forgot myself.”, replied Bill. Extending the guitar inlaid with golden dragons he says, “I think this is meant for you.”

    In the times of Knights and Castles people would have dubbed this Excaliber. A prince among paupers this guitar spoke to Jonathan the way nothing had before. Grasping the neck his emotions stirred and fire was lit in his belly. He was now whole.

    “We can’t rock if you don’t have your pick can we?”, Jonathan spoke. He held open his hand and let Bill claim the pick that would lead him on in the ways of Rock. Picking up the red pick he quickly strummed his guitar. Lightning Struck and Thunder Rolled and the mighty duo had found eachother.

    “….So uh…what do we do now?” asked Bill.

    Thinking the same thing Jon looked to the heavens for an answer when the flickering light of the bar they stood in front of caught his eye.

    Destiny’s Bar – Open Mic Night Halloween Night

    Grabbing his comrade by the shoulder he leads him inside saying to him,

    “Now my friend….We Rock!”

    The act on stage is some poet but the excitement in Jon’s heart would not let the love starved words bring him down. After taking a number and sitting at the bar he begins to wonder what song they will sing.

    Freebird? too cliche. Maybe Bill knows some Metallica.

    While trying to think of their setlist their number is called. Frightened and Excited all wrapped in one, the triumphant pair acsend the stage. Standing there looking at eachother they nod. Strum their guitars begin to wail.

    But the sound that came from the two of them was the most horrendous sound ever to be produced my man. Worse than finger nails on a chalkboard these two were bad. Distraught they stopped and pretended to tune their guitars. They regained their composure and began again. The results were the same. Terrible Music.

    Then the hecklers started in.

    “BBBOOOOOOO!!!! Get off the stage! Have you ever held a guitar before in your life! If I wanted to listen to crap I would have gone to see Yanni!”

    On and on the insults flew. Unrelenting and unforgiving they tore into the pair. Taking all of this started a fire deep in Jon’s belly. Each obscenity stoked the flames. The name calling only added fuel to the fire until he reached a breaking point. At that moment something amazing happened.

    Turning so he was back to back with Bill, they both leveled the necks of their guitars at the heckler and Jon responded with anger in his voice,

    “Sit down Sir, for we are about to rock your block off!!”

    With a simultaneous strum of the strings the voices of a million angels combined with a million devils sang out to each and everyone in that room. With the combined force of that most glorious of sounds the mans head exploded in a fury of Rock and Roll.

    What followed can’t only be described in biblical proportions. Two strangers brought together by destiny and great costumes rocked for a solid 5 hours. Their song that night was heard across the county. People were cured of disease and criminals turned themselves in once hearing the mind blowing Rocketsauce that emanated from those two. Finally culminating in a whammy bar crescendo that exploded every Pumpkin in a 25 mile radius, the two stopped playing.

    Without another word they left the smoking stage, leaving 2 molten plastic lumps that used to be microphones. Still fired up from their musical masterpeice, they walked outside.

    Jonathan looked down at his guitar and pick. Amazed at what he and Bill had produced he didn’t know what had happened. When he looked up he was staring into the eyes of Jack Black himself. Not just a ghost, but the legend, flesh and blood stood before him.

    “Well done Jonathan. You and Bill have done well. You channeled the Greatest Song in the World this evening and we are both proud of you.”, Intoned Jack

    “Well said Jack. But now we must take your weapons of wailing and place in safekeeping till another pair is in need of their power.” Kyle said.

    And with that the two knights gave up their swords and were peasants once more. But they were changed. Something inside of them shifted that night.

    But still puzzled by one thing Jonathan asked, “But…But how did we do that? I’ve never held a guitar in my life.”

    Jack stared him in the eyes and with a slight smirk to his face replied,

    “Anger my friend. Anger is what fuels all rock and roll. If your not angry, rock just plain sucks donkey ass.”

    And with that the two Rock Legends walked off into the night leaving our heroes alone in the street, pondering the words they had just heard.

    The sun was rising and a new day was begining. The new friends shook hands exchanged nods and went their seperate ways. Like a cowboy on the plains Jonathan walked off into the sunset to tackle bigger and better adventures.

    The End

  • 11/2/2006 at 11:06 pm


    That was AWESOME!

    I am sooo writing a song called “Rocketsauce”

  • 11/3/2006 at 7:10 am

    I’m glad you enjoyed it.

  • 7/9/2007 at 7:30 am

    No… no one said his name… He kept walking but a suicidal pigeon flew at him. Its squack sounded like jonathan. Jonny ran until he had put at least 50 feet between him and the demented bird. The fog was turning black and he had peed his pants from the terror. He decided to whi[p out his nipples and give them a rub, that always made him feel good. Little did he know that the suicidal pigeon was following him. It knew from the size of jonathan that if he could make him fall over that would be the perfect way to die…

    This pigeon had guts….

    The pigeon sneaked up behind jonny… who was rubbing his nipples and letting out low mating calls… and the pigeon attacked sending jonathan into a fit of terror…. jonothan fell over but….. the pigeon consumed within his own rage forgot to get under jonothan and decided that life really was worth living and that working in the factory wasn’t that bad… the pigeon went home and made love to his wife for the first time in 5 years…. this was a happy pigeon all thanks to the help of paralysing jonothan……………

    jonothan had all his limbs cut off and decided that the only way to make money was to become a hooker…. it didnt work out… jonothan died from a cocaine overdose while making love to his wheelchair…



Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *