More storys to make you stop

Volume Two of the collected short works of Andrew McFing. Although only containing ten vary short storys it costs twenty seven dollars at your local bookstore, and it's printed entirely from kind bud stems made into perfumed paper.


A report on cinnamon Teddy Bears

The last estament of the population of cinnamon teddy bears in north america put them at twenty seven remaining to the whole species. Being this rare and so widely hunted, they are in a mode of reproductive frenzy. The trouble is finding a mate when the species is spread across north america an average for one hundred and twenty four miles apart. Lots of poachers in between. Eco terrorists have been leaving assualt rifles and extra clips hidden with dried deep fried honey, and various roasted nuts for the bears to eat and arm themselves. The sentence for being caught doing such a crime is ten years in the butt slammer. There is a project started by some eco-terrorists to unite males and females into the same area so they can fuck, sounds noble maybe, but they are eco-terrorists, and doing so would be considered an act of eco-terrorism. Oddly enough, the fine for being caught poaching Teddys is sixty bucks. The punishment for saving them, up to ten years in prison, and a ten thousand dollar fine per save.

There is rumored to be a small colony of Cinnamon bears on planet Blue. They are supposed to live to a deep jungle in a group of thirty seven or so.




How I bagged me a cinnamon bear!

Hi I'm Klet Fustens. I'm kinda famous around here because I bagged that cinnamon bear that all the liberals had been crying about. I sold the fur for three thousand dollars. That was worth a few angry phone calls at three in the morning. All I can say is nothing that soft and pudgy was meant to live. They are all almost gone now so I am really proud to have gotten one of the last. I found it in my barn , I quickly closed the door and locked it from the outside. I ran in and grabbed my nine millimeter. When I got back the little bastard had broken my barn window with a rack and was scrambling out. Well I ,he he he , excuse me , I shot a loud round of lead into it's side and it smacked against the wall and gave me a syrupy wounded look , another round to the chest and it was down. Little fucker broke my window , oh well that three grand more then made up for it. I bought me some night vision glasses for seven hundred dollars. Now I quietly search for them bears at night. Sometimes I leave maple biscuits , or cherry sponge cakes as bait. Still no bears yet , but I'm ready , and I'm gonna cash in!


Other rare animals on my to kill off list

  • Woodfish
  • CabooshKa
  • Unicorn


gangstrousity

Jerby Ermut and Jimmie Shlafflin sipped there meth-coffees and played cards. Before a crime they always nerved up with a card game of war. Only using tarot cards. Together they where the Jade street guns. A robbing stealing out past curfew drug dealing gang. They used to have a third member , Spike Underwood. Spike was shot to death by the Hillside hustlers. The hustlers where a annoying gang of Mexican rappers and the Jade street guns vowed to destroy all 14 of them.

Jerby finished his meth-coffee and stood up grinning." Lets get paid my man"! Jimmie packed a sawed-off shotgun into his armored trench coat. Jerby had his Chinese bootleg desert eagle and so far it has not exploded in his hands. They had planned this raid for awhile. A Alternative buzz warehouse for a online catalog that sold mind melting herbs and strange uncontrollled chemicals. Best of all this warehouse was on Hillside turf and the owners payed them protection money. This could make the Hustlers look real fuckin bad. The two man gang each had a modified mophead that was whisper quiet and went up to 60 miles an hour. They had with them over sized back packs to stash the goods in. Jerby brought there gang symbol prepared as a stencil and a bottle of blue spray paint. The plan was to advertise who has encroached on who. As they pulled up behind the warehouse Jerby pulled a joint from his coon skin hat and lit it up.

They smoked it in silence , playing a gang sign hand game they had invented. They where both dressed in black and they glided swiftly to the back door checking it to find it locked. Jerby pulled out his tool kit and went to work while Jimmie kept guard.The door swung open and they pulled out the guns as they snuck in. There seemed to be no alarm set up here. Jerby had a pocket flashlight in one hand the chinease eagle in the other. They found around 40 vials of salvia times ten extract and bagged em up. Along with mushrooms spores and growing equiptment. Four pounds of misc herbs and chemicals they hurridly bagged. On their way Jerby stencilled the gang sign onto the building. There cymbol was a inward spiral with a eye in the middle. They where off speeding through alleys and shortcuts. They made it back to Jerby's trailer at the edge of town and counted their booty. Kicking back and countin the goods. Jimmie layed his shotgun by the side of the couch and opened a vial of salvia times ten extract. "I wander what this salvia stuff is like?" , he said , eyeing the small amount of green plant material. "I dare you to try it!" , Jerby taunted. They had both only heard of it in news storys about a new legal high. They doubted the storys of it causing hallucinations and all that rubbish. Jimmie reached into his arm-pocket and pulled out a slender big bowled glass pipe. He broke up some leaf material and packed it into the bowl. I will if you will" . Jimmie said. Jerby nodded so Jimmie fired up the lighter and brought it to the plant. Jimmie took a big hit . He held it in for over twenty seconds and then exhaled and coughed , drooling slightly. He didn't seem to be responding to things in the room , but Jimmie's eyes flicked back and forth and sometimes closed. He stayed like that for nine minutes. Sweat poured off him , he looked scared. ....Jimmie recalled holding the hit of the extract in , a really big one to show he was no pussy. But he didn't remember blowing it out , he thought it must have melted inside him. Turned in a translucent slimey heavy and somehow webby goo. The world turned violently thirty degrees to the left. The goo made it happen the goo that sang to him in dozens of voices. The stuff was very cold , Jimmie felt that he would freeze to death , he shivered and searched the strangely distorted world around him. Then he saw the alien! It was human like but with a big head and insect eyes that stared at him with a cold evil brutal menace. Jimmie realized he was on some kind a table , bright red and grey lights blinded him the table was making his body writhe and distort. Now drills came down from the ceiling followed by long needles , robot arms with tentacled suction cups . "Are you all right?" , the alien screamed at him with it's cold reptilian mind. The words made no sence and the other voices shouting chaos behind it , made the whole thing confusing. The alein barked hostile orders at him at the blades danced into his side , retracting to reveil sqaure holes , very deep and pulsing with a evil life.

Jimmie stood up suddenly , hearing a tangle of conflicting commands echoing through his phazed head. Jerbie sat across from him giving a knowing glare. He was in on it with the aleins! "You!" , Jimmie pointed a shaking hand at his friend and he stalked into the kitchen slamming the door behind him. There he hid like a frightened child , confusion slowly clearing as the voices faded away.

"Come back Come ride with us!" , countless voices had chanted in the end. Jimmie washed his face with cold water in the sink , carefully not looking at the window that looked onto the street for fear of a cold grey alien face staring back. He lit a cigerette and by the third puff he felt almost completly back to normal , a strong euphoria rushing through him to have survived the alien plot. He finished the ciggie and rejoined with his waiting friend.


"Your turn" , Jimmie said with a lop sided grin.Jerby reluctantly took the pipe and broke up the material to fill it with. Unlike his friend he smoked his dose in four smaller tokes , rather than all in one big choker. He felt a little funny , sorta like a weed high in a way , but stranger. " No try taking at least half if not all of it in one hot burning hit like I did, your not even there yet" , Jimmie insisted when Jerby tryed handing the pipe back. Jerbie packed the pipe full and took the biggest hit he had ever taken off of , anything. When he blew the smoke out , he began vibrating violently , He felt a metal mesh like substance form around his bones. He took the remaining bit at the bottom of the pipe bowl and he didn't know where he was at. Three people , but sometimes they were as many as two hundred were all around him. He could see a three sixty degree angle , and above and under. One of the people came up to him with a long wet green bone in his hand. Jerby knew it was a plant bone.Bits of roots clung to the bone and writhed like worms. The man pushed the bone into Jerby's head until it was all the way in. Jerby felt a cool green light explode on inside him and he was in a ancient unspoiled forest. He looked about in awe and confusion , and felt he was millions of years away from the coming of man. The scene faded Jerby found himself half slumped and still holding the bong. "Huh?" , Jerby asked his grinning friend. "Welcome to earth" , Jimmie told him as he looked about with confusion.

That morning Klaud Memroth called the headquarter of the Hillside hustlers. He got a answering machine. He asked it why after paying his protection money his shop had still be broken into to. Three hours later a low rider station wagon bumped down the alley to extreme bass music. Julio Del Ciugot cursed when he saw the Jade street guns stencil spray painted to the store. "The fucking shit gang the Jade shit guns!" , he screamed in rage.

The jade street guns spend the next two hours recovering. Jerby lay on the floor in the fetal position , happy just to be back in reality. Jimmie sat on the couch wrapped in a blanket. Jerby finally got up and went to the kitchen for a beer. He rolled a thin joint and lit it up. Jimmie accepted it on his turns. The mellow smoke began warming thier souls. Jimmie said to his sleepy eyed friend , " I dare you to try something else out of our new stash , maybe something at random!". Another fucking dare , Jerby thought, dammit I gotta accept it or be the driver instead of the shooter next time out.

"Ok lets go!". , Jerby told his friend. Jerby lay on the couch with the blanket over his head while his friend assembled the varyious items about the room. Then Jerby crawled slowly accross the floor blind folded untill he grasped a small vial in his hand. He feared it was salvia again , but when he took the blind fold off the vial said 250 mg Mad 3. "I don't like the sound of this one!" , Jerby said nervously. He shook out a small clump of the crystal powder, it was red or blue depending on which angle you view it from. He chopped up the line with a razor blade from his drug box and snorted a thin line threw a rolled up five dollar bill. It felt like he had snorted electricity. His nasal passedge quarvered , he felt hot. "Feel anything yet?" , Jimmie asked him.

A little bit of a acid like feeling in the back of my head , and it's really hot in here all the sudden" , Jerby answered. "You didn't do very much , it might not get you very high" , Jimmie subjested. "I'm waiting a bit before I do another one , this is a wierd buzz man , I taste a metallic grape taste in my throat." Jerby lit a cigerette and puffed it slowly while staring out the window. By now he felt like all the hair on his body was standing up and waving in a swirling breeze , a wet feeling inside his head. Mild tracers lingered off the cherry of his cigarette. The music playing began to flange , and lights kept brightening and darkening. . "Ok , I'm kinda liking this so far , it's a lot like acid , a little heavy around the edges. I'll do another thin line.". Jerby prepared another one and snorted it. This time is was like snorting ice , and he jerked his head back in surprise. He then giggled a bit. The body high was increasing a lot , a feeling that he had no bones and was full of cold wet clouds. He checked the clock , fifteen minutes had passed since the first line , was that correct? Jerby lay his head back , it oozed into the couch and was massaged by millions of electrical fingers. "Yeah , I like this one , it's a keeper!", he told his friend from what seemed a million miles. Random flickerings of closed eyed visuals , then short spurts of darkness with a odd humming sound. He felt he had heard the humming before , somewhere in a dream he once had as a child. A quick montage of images follow , a dog sniffing a freshly mowed lawn while running about in a frenzy , the dog has blues sunglasses on and a look of ectasy. Thousands of dark red pulsing bubbles drifting in a translucent blue sea. A burning cornfeild with fighter planes swooping above. A solorized looking rag doll in a chair made of chocolate ice cream that Jerby could taste. Suddenly Jerby had the feeling that he could remotely smell and taste things. The whole visual closed eyed field was of swirling pastel colors and random images , but he let his mind creep outside across the flower bed , he could smell the flowers there , different scents from different flowers more rich than he had ever known.

Jimmie watched Jerby twitch and giggle , face going animated to slack and back again with a twisted grin. Jerby had been zoning out with his eyes closed like that for twenty minutes now. Jimmie flicked on his computer and went to the Alternative buzz warehouse website. He looked up salvia times ten extract. It said little about it other than that it was used by the mexican indians to give them powers of divination. He imagined the plant growing wild all over mexico and people selling it to naive tourests as pot. There was some links he thought he might check up on later but for now he checked out thier mad 3. It was classified as a research chemical and sold for two hundred dollars for one gram. The only other info was that this stuff was the brain child of genius chemist Johny Lutt who disappeared shortly after creating it. Some links to mad 3 and Johny Lutt were available. Jimmie clicked on the mad 3 faq link:

DRUG: methdoxy-392-8NiOe44dontux

STREET NAME-mad 3 , dream dust , helatrip3

BRIEF: Strong hallucination synthasized by Johny Lutt and genius chemist with a hunger for drugs. After making his fortune with revolutionary news technologies in rubbers , adhesives ,and mediscene he got a fully funded private lab to tinker with God's building blocks and licence his discoverys to the company that supplied him with millions of dollars worth of equipment and supplys. Two years followed with his bahavior getting more erratic , many times visitors would find him wandering naked through his lab. He was twice hospitalized for exposure to research ehemicals , after being admitted raving. When the smoke had settled Lutt was missing never to be seen from again. The compnay that sponsored him made very little off his remaining research because most of it was about drugs they would not dare try to manufacture and sell. Three of these substances are already illegal to possess and manufacture in America. There are five more being sold now on the internet. The most notorious is mad 3. It is taken at raves as a gel cap , usually with other things thrown in. On the internet for legal reasons they cannot divide single doses or sell gel caps so it is offered as a crystal powder form. Some people have tryed snorting or smoking it as well. No known cases of injection are known at this time.

PSYCHEDELIC INDICATIONS : A very psychedelic substance , With visuals ranging from phazed sounds and tracers to experiancing complete lives as someone else or out of body experiences. Users say effects vary greatly from person to person. But kind of like a heavy acid with intence perception distortions and some claim perceptional enhancements like the ablility to see through walls and hear radio waves.

DOSAGE : Low dosages are recominded because of the intence effects of the drug. HIgh doses have overwhelming mental and physical effects. There are no known cases of tolorance devolping , even among daily low dose users. In the 1980's a small handfull of highly publicized overdose cases resulted in fatal accidents and confinements to mental institutions.

ORAL DOSE : The standard rave gel cap dose is 50 mg per cap 15-25 is called dance enhance and is commonly split between a couple. Genrally brings a nice vibey feel and sometimes tracers , especially when mixed with other drugs. 50 to 100 mg brings a strong body buzz mostly pleasant along with tracers and opened eyed visuals mostly in the form of color distortions and a strobelight like vision effect. 250 mg is considered a mad dose , with 12 to 15 hours of open eyed visuals sometimes clouding out the real world, Wild behavior is common at this dose , out of control antics that get many hurt or arrested. 500 mg is called the point of no return and is not recominded. If you do return you will not be the same. Lesser oral dosages result in 3-5 hours of effects.

NASAL DOSE : a more unpredictable means in injesting mad 3. A good starting dose is 30-40 mg. The effects will be stronger but last for only about 30 to 40 minutes Expect pleasant nasel sensastions and a hard buzz that will leave will tired and frazzled.

FREEBASE: A clumsy smoke but if done right 15 mg's worth of inhaled vapors and send you into open eyed visuals and strong euphoria , a much more pleasant body feeling then the other paths. 35-50 mg is considered a mad dose but some can go threw as much as 250 mg to get there because of the aspects of the tricky smoke. Based effects last around ten minutes , with an odd feeling persisting until user sleeps eight hours.

So now Jimmie just had to decide how to ingest this potion. He thought the freebase sounded best because of the happy body feelings , and short duration. He went for a piss and stepped outside for a cigarette. He was supposed to be baby sitting dude , but everything seemed to be going fine back there. As he smoked a brawn bronco drove by with a member of the Hillside hustlers. Enrussell called h q with his cell phone , positive i d. Jimmie came back inside to see his friend stirring at last. Jerby was staring in awe at an object that he held in his hand. Jimmie walked up to him and looked at it. It was a red plastic dinosaur. Jimmie's hands trembled as he held it and he smiled like a stoned child. "Where did that come from?" , Jimmie asked him. "I pulled it out of my trip! It was my toy dinosaur when I was a little kid , I called him Harvey Teeth. "No really where did that toy come from?". "Dude , I'm not shitting you , it was in my hallucination , when I came back down here it was. I have not seen this toy since I was in first grade". Jimmie said. "I think your still trippin". "Yes I'm still trippin , although not so hard as I was , I just feel kinda light , like I could float to the ceiling and use my hands to pull myself across the way." "well , I have opted for the freebase as weapon of choice" , Jimmie told his co-ganster as he put a tiny amount in the glass pipe. He didn't have micro scales that could weigh that insanely low , so he loaded a small amount and breathed a bit to calm his nerves before vaporizing. He held his lighter to the glass till a dark blue smoke built up , he sucked in the chemical fog and tasted ice cream! At first it tasted like a rich creamy vanilla , but as he held the smoke in it morphed into strawberry , than butterscotch , and then as he let the hit out a distinct rose and lavender ice cream flavor , that his tripping mind thought grandma used to make. "Wow" , he said as a pressure closed around him shapeing him into a perfect circle that spun faster and faster , the room blurred into patterns of colors and bright crackleing lines. Then everything stopped and the round shape shattered and he was standing suspended in pure white light , pure pleasure. Cosmic energys ran through him and expanded him , he waved hisarms and felt worlds coming into being. " I am God , I am forever!" , he said aloud rising his arms above his head.

Right then the HIllside Hustlers were rolling by in thier battle station wagon. The passenger side windows rolled down and and rifle and a handgun poured out and blasted a few rounds into the tripper's home. Jerby saw purple bolts of light flickering off his friend and was unsure it that was a trip effect of the substance in his system or not, then the windows exploded to the sound of gunfire.Bullets speeded through Jimmie and into the wall behind him , JImmie's wounds closed and he reacted quickly by thrusting both arms at the war wagon and sending a long shaft of violet flame at it. The car exploded on the flame's impact and shattering glass and metal parts rained down , along with bits of gore. Jerby's jaw dropped in shock and amazement , as his friend smiled a ghastly smile and red spikes of energy danced off him.. "It was the hillside Hustlers , but I've got something for them ha ha ha" , Jimmie laughed as sefveral brightly flashing pulses burst from him., At the Hillside house a rap party was going on. M C Funky Hombre was doing a bit about having a big dick , being badder than anyone else and having all the money. Suddenly the house exploded into flame , hot flames that rained from the sky and stuck to the house.Their was no where to go , fire consuming everything everywhere. The self proclaimed baddest ass M C shat himself in abject terror. The hillside Hustlers were a thing of the past like the all gay cock suck crips and the 13th street pussy wreckers. Meanwhile Jimmie and Jerby's ill goten drugs were consumed random style every saterday till the supply ran out some four months later , and somehow neither of them ever had a tatal overdose ,just some intensely sick moments and scary revelations.


The End







Treehouse

Joey Bently and Matt Sumnal sneaked down the alley , in the shadows they where small and unnoticed. They walked on down by the river where the trees grew thick and they had discovered an old abandoned tree house. The two boys said nothing to eachother , and kept a wary gaze about. They climbed the tree and settled into the gently rocking tree house. Joey reached into his pocket and pulled out a glass pipe , red and orange , with purple lines squiggling through out it. He brushed aside some leaves in the corner and located thier lighter , kept dry in a plastic bag they had found in the park. The bag had small crumbs of marijuanna and they had smoked it up one night with no noticeable effect. "I got some good chocolate , got em from my aunt. "She digs those boxed choco-variety packs." , Said Joey.

"Cool , I only have a couple handfulls of cigerette butts." Both made faces at the thought. Matt stashed the butts in a zip lock baggie that had once contained his sandwich for school. Joey broke up a dark chocolate oval on the floor of the tree house. He seperated the peanuts in the candy's center and packed all the chocolate into the colorfull pipe. It lit the bowl and inhaled deeply the heavonly rich taste that flowed over him , filling his head torso and groin with shivering tingles of pleasure. He passed the pipe and lighter over to Matt. Young master Sumnal was bathed in a cloud of scented smoke as he took three short quick puffs. A dreamy joy washed accross him starting at the front and soaking to the back of his body. Matt spoke in a dreamy monotone , "That is some good chocolate , I feel it melting my insides with heavy glowing warmth".

"I would like to smoke some jelly beans sometime" , said Joey as he hit the last of the tasty nugget and tapped out the pipe gently along the wall.

"You know what I wanna smoke?" , asked Matt with a blissfull grin. Joey just shook his head and fished in his pocket for more chocolate. "I want to smoke a girl , put her nipples in a pipe and take a big happy hit!", The boys tittered and giggled and passed around another delicious round of pipe tokes.

The boys had been smoking for four months now. About two weeks after Matt found the tree house that he sometimes spends the night in where his drunken father gets violent. Joey had the pipe about six months before that but had never used it. He slept with it every night , he believed it gave him dreams of deeper meaning. They started out smoking tobacco bits from ciggy butts they gathered from the park. A couple of stale reefer roaches had been tryed but they where to far burned down to have an effect on the curious children. Joey had found the pipe after it had been dropped by a couple of adult long hairs who smelled of burned plants in a pleasant way. Later that smell he knew was of marijuana and he thought of people so aromatized to be like holy men. They had been re-searching drugs on the internet. Only ones that could be smoked had any interest to them. The rest seemed moraly wrong and for weak people to mess with.

"I had two dreams last night" , Joey said as he lay on his back. The gentle rocking of the tree house made him sleepy , he like to drift off up here. In the months that followed the boys came into luck , Matt's drunken father had taken off to Mexico for some shady reason and Matt started selling his porn mags to the boys ( and one secret lesbian girl). the money went into the purchase of alleged pot. The first time it was oregeno. The second time it was catnip. They started smoking cat nip after that , they kinda felt mildly relaxed , and it was fun blowing hits to stoned cats , they got whacked on the stuff. Now Sergent Snow a big dirty white tomcat with a black spot over half it's face that made the left eye stand out wicked and mean looking. Snow loved catnip and they loved stoneing him out on it. It was what they thought the real thing must be like the real buzz. "We are running low on porn mags , Matt told his friend , and since dad isn't here to pay the internet bill , no more web cruising. They will shut it off in three days." "DAmn! This sucks. Can you smoke beer? Dad left a couple of generic nasty ones in the frig , if maybe we pore them out on something and smoke it when it drys". "That won't work , you have to drink it or maybe funnel it up your ass" , Joey told him. "Thats how low alcoholics go huh? A supersoaker full of rotgot up the ass for a buzz!". The two boys stared at eachother in horror vowing to never drink booze. School was kinda cool for that brief period of thier lives. The porn buisiness made Matt a little pimp in many classmate's eyes. An outlaw living large. Girls liked him and thought he was a rebal. But he only liked high school girls , with thier developed bodys and sexy ways. But respect was the by-word. Joey had been seen smoking a ciggy butt on the playground and was considered a outlaw himself. This kept them out of fights for awhile. Fourth grade was not that bad. The overall best year in a miserable school career. But after school let out for the summer things began to fall downhill. A local church-cult begin hanging out in the park harassing smokers and picking up the ciggerette butts and liter from the ground. The boys where out many treasures. Smokables dried up. No ciggys no chocolate. They tried to smoke a grasshoper but it made Joey throw up and Matt didn't try it. That is when they got desparate and tried other things.




Hard times

I'm just hanging around, eating Halloween candy. I've got this big orange and yellow sack full of random candies. That's the best part of Halloween the sheer randomousity of it all. Nothing like a eight pound sack of sweets and horror movies on t v all night long. Yummy!


Mr. Fabcan and the last days of this stinky world

Mr. Fabcan always thought he would have a good retirement, that in some ways it would be the best days of his life. After all they're is much to be said for not haveing to get up and go to work and all that. He worked for SmithStone merchandizeing for thirty seven years, giveing a percent of each paycheck to his retirement fund, so he could have maple butter sandwitches and imported tea every single meal and not ever have to skipp a meal, but sadly things did not turn out this way. The C E O of the company who had been hired on a couple of years before has decided that he deserves that retirement money more than the employees do, after all he was only a millionaire. He had gone to church on sunday, he had faithfully voted republican all his life. Why had things gone so wrong? He thought the C E O was a card carrying republican, he remembers him indorseing Bush, yet he does a thing like that and gets away with it. The president personally intervening on his investigation sighting terrorism security secrets are involved that could jeopardize the civalized world. He didn't understand all that, but he knew that it was all Hillory Clinton's fault, the wicked witch of the communist ditch. She was behind everything. What the country needs is another war. The one we are currantly in is bogged down, best abandon that one and get on with blowing up a different country, only this time just blow em up and head over to the next target. None of this clean up bull shit, that's where our boys lose thier nuts, or even theyr'e lives. Just fly over, bombs away, fly on back. It's as simple as that. But what went wrong?

Well at least they're was his two hundred and thirty dollers a week from social security. If they would just cut funding on librarys, museums and such they're would be plenty of cash to have a couple more wars going and still enough for him to have a descent retirement. So Mr. Jonathon Fabcan got a can of wolf chili out of his cabinet. He poured it into the sauce pan and he added a few jalipino peppers, some hot picante, and chopped onions to the mix. What a world, what a world. It sucks to be better than everyone else, yet to have to live on the same level as the scum. Not right at all.


Mimi Jones in: Don't trust your neighbors

Lots of terrorists reside within the borders of the United States of America, and not all of them are arab. Some of them are even white, although you won't see these whites at church on Sunday, more likely they will be at home nurseing a hangover. These anti-american americans take drugs, and even manufacture them, remember drugs are weapons of mass destruction. Well don't just stand there and take it, do something about it, for the love of Jesus and the children. Join my national club, The Nation Of Narcs. It's a pleasure to Jesus when his good servants snoop.


Never leave this plan unattended

Lots of jerks out there nowadays, and I plan to kill. Kill. Kill. Little pranks like peeing in my mailbox, whipping human shit on the windows of my house while I'm at work, killing my kitten and hanging the corpse from the tree in my front yard. Or how bout putting kiddy porn mags in my car I foolishly left unlocked and then makeing a anonymous call to the cops, I'm faceing a possible sentence of twenty years for that one.

I already own a handgun, it's a cheap thirt two I filled with hollow point shells. I've got a long slender sword I named catshup. I have been patrolling the grounds after dark, escapeing through by closet window that I can easely slip out of in complete silence. Tonight I'm going to sleep in my van. I'll put a couple battery powdered alarm clocks in with me so I'll be up in time for work, let them fuck with my van now..


Even the jorden river has got bodies floating

Deon and Paul Rimbear are making photocopies at work.They work at a store called Brush.These are secret forbidden copies. They are copying pages from the Necromonicon to give to children as halloween pamphlets. Pual sets it up while Deaon goes to the loading/unloading dock.There he sees a trailered truck back into Dorm Roger’s hand crushing all the bones. "MY hand my hand", Dorm screams as the truck hisses, shrugging off the trailer. Deaon can not do nothing but stand there stunned. He finds he cannot speak or move, he is frozen in space.

Later Deaon goes by the copy machine and sees that Pual set it up wrong somehow and it is still making copies, mounds of them lay on the ground. He could not get the machine to stop. Even after pulling the plug. Endless pages from the Necromonicon stacking up, he had to smuggle them away before one of the managers saw what was happening. the crowd is getting thinner now at the fabled towers of carcosa

Deaon comes in that evening to buy some vitamins.It is hot in here so without even thinking about it he sheds his shirt. After awhile and many looks,he snaps out of it and puts his shirt back on.

At the lake of Hali strange lights across the sky

Deaon wanders why the store has three storys,when the whole store sales floor is on the first.He has never seen the top two storys,doesn’t even know how to get there.He has even heard rumors of a secret basement.

The eye of the undermind:flesh or phantom?

Working here sucks.The bosses are beligerant assholes, “Team leaders” who send the workers home early so they can soak up overtime.But with today’s dried up world he must work or die.No one else shall hired a two times convicted lucid dreamer.

I picked up that damned book

For the next three days in a row Deaon would get a nosebleed at work*He would go home after working three hours,much to the pleasure of his team leader would get to suck some extra hours today and go on overtime quicker.That week some cool paperbackss came in.Including a H.P. Lovecraft book called the Innsmouth papers.. It had all storys he had never read before like,the crawling thing and Eldrich eyes. .He bought it,having to skip a meal for it.

I am confidant I can realize I’m dreaming. 2 or 3 weeks after that go to a special bridge.

While unloading a truck DEaon and Pual discovered many cool items that came in clearance priced. They hoarded them,getting cool Polaroid cameras for five dollars,and film one dollar a pack. Eight dollar high tech walkmans,etc. . .Later that day Deaon goes home and takes nude pictures of himself with the poloriod’s self timer.*

I can’t eat so I just sit rubbing my swelling crotch.

excessive caffiene abuse

Then on tuesday we have a different team leader.A oriental man with long curly hair and a broken accent.No one ever seemed to catch his name.Wednesday the same old bastard was back like nothing ever happened.No explanation was ever offered.

I see only total darkness and giant teethed iron cogs

Some women disapeared at Brush.According to various companions they seperated to shop in different locations and their friends were gone.Seven unrelated disapearances in one day.The women, that is were unrelatedEveryone searched the back part of the store for t hem.Deaon searched the top risers for them,the compactor room,the boiler room.No clues.He did however find a rusty iron trapdoor in the boiler room.It was huge,with a crusty padlock on it.He wandered if it allowed access to that rumered basement level. .Deaon asked his team leader if they might be upstairs,he just looked at him like he was crazy and walked away.However he was only given four work hours a day the rest of the week,he wandered if that was some kind of punishment. "What do you think of that upstairs area,no one even searched there",Deaon told rubrid. "What are you on,Deaon? There is no upper level". "Can’t you see it from the parking lot man,are you that blind? Two levels,and non windows, why would there be a roof twice as tall as the interior of the store? What do you think that is,60 feet of insulation,and a maintenance crawlspace?" "Yea that is the maintenance crawl space ,earth to Deaon!" The missing women were never found.

Ask me next time the pain subsides. Now that the fear is gone your looking all star crossed

The next day and the one after that he is off .He comes back to work on a monday.He is on four hits of white blotter. Fairly weak but made more intense by being at work.He didn’t do much work that day,just drifted around looking busy. He went into the greasey sub-stockroom called the closet. It was one of three auxillery stock rooms,to take overflow from the main stock room. This room was empty now,even the risers had been removed for some reason. Deaon took a piss on the floor in here and hung out in this shadowy place for awhile. Their was a stange spiderweb of catwalks and stosrage cages and things up there. So intracate you could almost get lost up there.

Paul does not think I should like the slaughterhouse

Deaon goes to the telephone to have the stock managaer,Erl Thumes paged... "Operator",said the operator. "Would you pageERL THUMES please?". "He is out in back of the building,you’ll have to go there. BEhind the building outside,our lines accesing that area are out of order.Deaon took off through the ever murkier layers of rooms of unknown use in the back of the building.One room was almost empty save for a rusted vending machine like a relic in the middle of the room.Finally he was outside and there was Erl .Erl is a sharp young yuppy,with sharp shark like teeth and a cold praying mantis like stare.OUtside here was what apperared to be the ruins of a much older building.Employees where digging up the foundations in a style that seemed to be archealogical. Two tents flapped in the wind.The ally here seemed marsh like. He asked his manager if there were any special projects for him. "No,we are cutting back on employees working hours this week so the managers can get a bonus",his eyes glinting with greed and the shear fun of screwing the laborers.

Drift and cough by a smell of cleansing cool rain

One afternoon Deaon happens to overhear the head manager and stock manager talking about Calvin manchester.”He’s ready for mutation”,The head manager says.Fear seaped all through Deaon,darkening his eyes.He crept on keeping it in mind to watch Calvin to see if he changes somehow.


Peek in through the window while I lip your river.

Consciousness is dead

Calvin’s transformation was plain to see.He was a speedball of motion and was made a team leader, where he had a brief rein of terror, then had a heart attack and died four weeks later. One day Vack wandered in! Vack was fired for smoking angel dust in the men’s room. By that time everyone knew he was a full-blown fiend completely out of touch with reality. He smelled like burned jimson leaves and had an unfocused stare. Security came arid dragged him away. Vack didn't even know that he had been fired months ago. Deaon followed discreetly to see what security would do.They took him into the vending machine of rust. room and beat him with sticks. Vack didn’t even fight back,just curled up into a stoned ball.Kicks and sticks, sticks and kicks. Deaon left feeling helpless and angry. Come the revolution I’ll cap them he thinks,I’ll cap alot of pigs.


Punching his neck painfully the pigs sent for buckets


At Brush, employees must use the employee, not the customer bathrooms.These bathrooms are hideous.Just a huge square hole for a urinal.Everything covered in a moss.A slippery green moss.It is possible that one could slip and fall into the urine pit.That's why Deaon sometimes sneaks into the abandoned rooms for a pee.




External undermint

External undermint. Glow gravy entanglement. Glimmer gone thinner , leaf thru this river. Meet the meta meat mask.

Take up with the minty broth patrol. We husk underneath the pieces. Jigsaw mardi gras. Tall tangerines come clean. The clown theather burns a silly fiery death , sizzling grease paint. The fire fighter laughing too hard to be able to help. Again the distance rings with charms and alarms.

The phobia hat clings to varyous heads and follow them downtown. You can't masterbate in a police state and never stay out late , they put you in the ground. Trees and tall boners claim soothing fire and bonnets full of heather.

Trenchcoat teams gleam and scream. Cats rains on the window pane. Laughter drags threw clenched teeth. Like the highway like the inter-zones of onion skins. , or more like between them. Drag dinner over violins. Herbal hyjacks and raisen smears fill the studio with nudity. Cross the infinate bears and pizza scraps. Fill my blunderbuss with lust shoot it with folded foldy thangs. We will walk in the mist and shave with cool green ice Our home shall have red fuzzy walls and glass beds. I shall work at the idea factory pumping out notions and tangents.

I keep finding more and more dice. They are half and more than half buried all though out the farm. I went the the old old school and found more in the cobwebby corners. I don't see much of those tiny kittens . They where only only about an inch and half long and sooo cute. Maybe the bigger cats have killed them all off. The worst danger in the field country of kansas is the alien fungous. The clinging wet kind you find in old barns and sheds and sometimes old wrecked cars. It is grey and throbs. Thousands of tiny holes dot it. They serve and both lungs and sensory organs. No eyes ears or anything like that we would understand. A mess of aleins sensory glands that work as well or better than our sences. The fungous will than detach from the wall ceiling or whatever it had been sticking to and fly at the hapless victum emitting a piercing shriek of hunger and rage.The sound stuns most creatures with ears , often times inducing spasmotic vomiting as well. If it attaches to it's mark. , it spreads tendrills inside and sucks away blood and tissue all the while vibrating powerfully and shirek that stunning shrill sound. This fungi can lay dorment for four years waiting for the meat to come along and awaken it for ravished feeding. Ones that feed often can get the size of bowling balls but can no longer fly , only hop wetly and clumsily about , smearing the nasty yellow shit behind it.

Take this ride. Deep inside with this ride. Choke out this precessor. Make clumps of ocean gell inside your underwear. Let it be and be bloody bent and folded .


The Machine of Rage

This was the worst summer on Adam Gernten's life. Gulf war four has erupted and gasoline has gone up to fifteen dollars a gallon. Twenty bucks a day to go to work and back. They are cutting back the amount of hours allowed to be worked there as well. It is getting to the point where Gernten can't afford to drive to work and back the full two weeks till payday. Everything else is going up in price as well. Two days till payday finds Adam driving to work with the gas guage below empty. The car sputters and dies. Adam screams obsencitys at the uncaring world as he coasts over to the side of the road. This looks like the end of the line. He can no longer afford to drive to work. The line is finally drawn. Adam's rage steams in the car.

A lace of machines

by Andrew McFing

I got out of bed today at nine A. M. my stomach had bloated with piss and I wattled to the toilet to drain myself for the new day. Beams of glaring light spread of the blinds and I screwed the sun out and closed my eyes as the urine left me in a orgasmic release of pressure. How much did I drank last night? Empty corona bottles were randomly placed throughout his home.My head throbbed and his eyes were blood shot and puffy. Damn tired, and It's a work day, already running late, it took too long to piss. I grab a couple slices of cheese from my dwindling supply along with a triple threat energy drink. I ignored the health warnings on the can, heart attack, panic attack, hot flashes, pounding headaches, all where potential side effects. Ignore the warnings because I need the energy to go on, to keep my back to the grindstone, keep the machine rolling along. The stuff slurped into me as I drove sixty miles an hour down the forty zone watching for the fuzz with crackling eyes, yes this potent juice would be illegal soon, no doubt. My stomach began to buck in protest like it always does, but I had this foreign inhalant that released this odd green gas that calms the stomach for a few minutes. I fished it out of my coat and I railed a dose. The stuff is like a minty caffeine, it makes your vision waver for a few minutes when it first kicks in. Again I get lucky and no cop pulls me over. I screech into the parking, finish off my energy drink, and I rush in to work. The machines roar and gyrate all around me, one must be careful not to be sucked up into one of them and turned into gristle. I'm feeling good, but at three dollars a drink, I can't keep going on this energy drink lifestyle.

The work is long and brutal, I can hardly stand it. I work a ten and a half hour shift, fighting through a overwhelming about of work, and there is still much more to be done when I am finally allowed to leave after a hideous tongue lashing for how "Lazy" I am for not getting Rome built in a day. They are sucking the life out of me, and padding they're overly fat spirits with more wine and whipped cream. It's back home now, almost every car on the road driving five to fifteen miles under the speed limit. I channel surfed and sang along with the songs I liked when I found them. Somehow my voice was smooth and fluid and I crooned out to Neil Young and Nirvana on a couple of the retro rock stations. Finally home I unlocked the door and took four steps to the couch. I plopped down apon that welcoming fixture, too tired to piss, I fell into a peaceful eight minute slumber, then the phone rang, shattering any illusion of via rest. The cordless home phone was ringing unseen in the other room, I had no idea where I had last left it, I tend to pace while talking. I managed to track it down to the laundry room/ second branch of my library but not before the ringing stopped and the answering machine kicked on. "Hey, I'm elsewhen, leave a message, or better yet, a massage", My voice says through the machine's memory chip.

"Hello? Hello?, Andrew, pick up man pick up!", Voice I do not recognize insists. I desperately spin about looking for my phone, I rushed back into the laundry room as the voice says "Hey buddy are you there, it's me, pick up man!". The message stops and I have not found the phone yet. I go to the phone base in the kitchen and I push the page button several times, until the jelly inside the base relents and the button makes contact. A weak ring sounds from the laundry room, sounds like the battery is about to die! I run back into the laundry room, stubbing my toe on a box of paper back books I put there a couple of days ago when looking for my old hookah. Never found that hookah, but I did find a couple issues of the comic book Howard the Duck, I'll read them later, when my toe stops hurting. I find my phone finally but the battery is dead, so I put it on the charger, at least long enough to check the caller I D. While waiting the phone begins ringing and the loud ring setting I've put it on in hopes of finding it sooner when lost and chiming drains the battery fast, it goes dead again.

Even More Storys to Make You Stop

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