Monday, October 31, 2011

My Halloween Curse Will Make You Howl (and possibly kill you)

Seeing as how today is Halloween, and since that is one of the most hauntingly horrifying days to ever exist (take that half birthday of Columbus Day!) I've decided to tell you a little ghost story.

Are you afraid of the Zeebo?
But it's not just any story, for that's something “Are You Afraid of the Dark” could easily do. No, this ghost story is horrendously frightening, because it shows that you, my gentle reader, have fallen into the trap of an awful curse.

It's probably not too well known, I've managed to keep much of the bad press buried (go PR background!) but I built on a cursed Indian burial ground pet cemetery haunted house pharaoh’s tomb zombieville McDonald's. Atop the corpses of various other dotcoms, I thought this would be my home on the web. I didn't know it would cast a hideous curse upon my sevens of readers.

Look out, behind you! There's an invisible zombie feasting upon the aortas of your significant other(s)! Oh, why have you fallen victim to my curse? The only way to save them is by eating them entirely before the zombie has a chance to do it. Go, go now and save them from murder by performing a mercy killing. Since I kind of brought this upon you, don't worry, I'll provide the spork. Oh, and bring ketchup. You'll thank me later.

With that bit of unpleasantness behind us (minus a bit of upcoming gastrointestinal issues) I must reveal to you I'm actually a corpse. I died when I choked on a Cool Ranch Dorito at my third grade class' Halloween party. I've used every Halloween since to rise from the grave, put that Power Ranger costume back on and let my zombie buddies have their way with people's significant others. Oh, and a little by the way, when you ate your significant other, they were in process of zombification, which means you're in the process of turning to one as well.
Demon Kevin makes red eye reduction his bitch.

Not only do you join my unholy army of the dead, but you're adding to my unholy army of page views.
With each reader and subsequent death, I grow stronger. It's no surprise October has been the most viewed month ever on BreakMentalDown. All those lost souls are coming home to roost in my surprisingly warm bosom. Come souls come, I mean you no harm... except your death!

But wait, what's this, a pure and innocent baby child is approaching the site. It leaves a comment simply asking “Why?” (cutely spelled as “y?”) At this point, if I were the Grinch or the bad guy from Avatar, my heart would probably grow three times and I'd realize the true meaning of the blessed holiday. But I'm not, as I've said numerous times, I'm an evil monster from Hell. Its innocence means absolutely nothing to me as I feast upon its virgin soul.

He's just one pint sized step before I fully take over the world. One delicious pint, that is.

As Orson Welles once said, ladies and gentlemen, this is Kevin Nelson out of character to assure you that I'm not an evil corpse monster and this post has no further significance than as the holiday offering it was intended to be: BreakMentalDown's own blog version of dressing up in a sheet and jumping out of a bush and saying "Boo!" So goodbye everybody, and remember, please, for the next day or so the terrible lesson you learned tonight: that grinning, glowing, globular invader of your living room is an inhabitant of the pumpkin patch, and if your doorbell rings and nobody's there, that was evil corpse from hell, hellbent on destroying the entirety of all life as we know it—it's Halloween. 

... or is it? 

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