Dale Update

***DALE UPDATE***

After successful heart surgery, my step-dad Dale is finally home from the hospital. He seems to be in the same good spirits he’s always in as evidenced by his ability to enjoy a rerun of NCIS: Los Angeles on TV. He’s only been away for a short while, but everyone here at the house missed him. The animals are especially glad to see him back judging from how Tori jumped up on Dale’s chest and purred like a lawnmower. He’s going to have to make a lot of phone calls to his distant family to tell them how he is, but he’ll survive. See what I did there?

As part of his recovery process, plenty of things in his life are going to change. He won’t do as much heavy work as he normally does, he can’t eat fatty or sugary foods anymore, and he’ll have to take a shit ton of medication in addition to what he takes now. Since Dale’s going to be eating healthier meals from now on, we all will and quite frankly it’s about time. I’ll be the first to admit that I don’t make the best food decisions and it shows with my lack of cardio and my big belly. Maybe with more rabbit food around the house, I’ll have no choice but to take better care of my body. Losing weight is important to me, but now that there’s going to be a stronger support system in place, I can actually do it. More importantly, Dale will have a lot longer to live.

Peace and order have been restored to the Haines-Temons-Stevens-Wilson household. Dale still has some resting and recovering to do, but that’s the easiest part of this whole ordeal, especially when the animals all want to snuggle around him. At first we worried that we wouldn’t be able to take care of our 15-year-old Springer Spaniel Maggie anymore. She’s blind, deaf, senile, and shits and pisses on the floor on a regular basis. With Dale out of the hospital and recovering nicely, Maggie can also continue to enjoy her elder years on this earth. The running joke around our family is that this house is a retirement home for both elderly animals and people. Nobody seems to have a counterpoint for that joke. Hehe!

Mom and Dale’s east coast vacation is still off the table, but Mom is optimistic about the two of them being able to see Paul Simon perform in Denver in late June. I swear to god, you should see Mom’s face light up like a Christmas tree anytime I give her a Paul Simon CD for a gift. I gave her one for Mother’s Day along with Trevor Noah’s memoir and she grinned from ear to ear. Come to think of it, Father’s Day isn’t too far away either. I hope Dale will have the same reaction when he opens his presents. Hell, it’s the easiest bet in the world!

That’s all I have to say for now. In short, Dale’s doing just fine now and he’s going to keep doing fine as the years go on. Thanks in advance for your positive vibes. I’m Garrison Kelly and I’ll see you next time!

***WEEKLY SHORT STORY CONTESTS AND COMPANY***

It’s another week at the WSS and this time the prompt is “Eye of the Storm”. I have a funny feeling that we’ve had that prompt before, but maybe it was worded differently. I’m not entirely sure, but I have a short story ready to be written nonetheless. It’s called “I Am Death”, but it’s not about the Muslim heavy metal band with the same name in my recent first draft novel Demon Axe. On the contrary, it’s much, much different!

CHARACTERS:

1. Kobra, Street Illusionist
2. Lux, Kobra’s Assistant and Girlfriend
3. Keith Turner, Racist Murderer
4. Nameless Black Protesters
5. Nameless KKK Members
6. Nameless Police Officers

PROMPT CONFORMITY: Kobra’s angel of death gimmick involves heavy windstorms.

SYNOPSIS: Protesters, counter-protesters, and cops are gathered around the Paulson City courthouse awaiting the verdict against Keith Turner, who went on trial for murdering an eight-year-old black girl. Keith is eventually found not guilty and the outside crowd erupts into riotous hysteria. Kobra and Lux use their illusionary tricks to convince the police and KKK members that Kobra is an angel of death who came to earth to cleanse the world of evil and tyranny. Among the magic tricks he uses include levitation, pyrotechnics, voice manipulation, and Hollywood windstorms. Kobra and Lux hope that their bluff will be enough to scare people into leaving the black protesters alone and releasing them from police custody.

***LAW & ORDER: SVU PARODY OF THE DAY***

In New York City’s war on crime, Olivia Benson with duct tape on her mouth is considered especially erotic. The detectives who are clearly masturbating in the background are part of an elite squad known as the Sexy Victims Unit. These are their stories. DONG, DONG!

Dale's Heart

***DALE’S HEART***

Over the past few days, my step-dad Dale has been having minor chest pains that were treated with aspirin up until now. Today my mom took him to the emergency room to see what the hell’s going on with his heart. Dale is still at the hospital, but Mom came home hours ago. She told me that the doctors and nurses ran several tests on him and they’re going to run a stress test tomorrow morning. All of the preliminary results are leaning towards angina, which means the blood vessels in Dale’s heart are too small to allow proper blood flow. If he passes his stress test, he could be home as early as tomorrow afternoon. If he doesn’t, then there’s a good chance he’ll need to have a stint put in his blood vessels.

Dale has a lot of factors working against his body whether it’s his 69-year-old age, his overweight body, his past with cigarette-smoking, or the fact that heart disease runs in his family. Despite all of this, I have a positive feeling he’s going to make it out of the hospital as good as new. His father had heart disease and he lived well into his 90’s. Dale’s fought through worse health problems in his life and he’s going to fight through this too. Ever since he married my mom in 2005, he’s been a huge reason why our family is living a peaceful life today. If there’s anything our family can do to help him through this tough obstacle, we’re going to do it.

That last part includes canceling a few trips he and my mom were going to take in June. A few days after my 32^nd birthday, the two of them were going to fly to Pennsylvania to visit with family. That’s not going to be possible if Dale’s heart problems are more serious than we imagined. They also have a concert they’re going to in Denver with their childhood friend Sandy. It’s Paul Simon’s final concert before he retires and I’d really hate for them to miss that. Poor Dale-Pie. Poor, poor Dale-Pie.

If you want to leave well-wishes for Dale, you can do it on Good Reads, Deviant Art, Blogger.com, and Face Book since that’s where I plan on leaving this blog. He needs all the love he can get right now. But like I said earlier, I have faith that he’ll pull through like he has against every other obstacle in his life. I know I use the word “warrior” a lot in my writing, but I believe it applies to Dale as well as the magicians and barbarians in Poison Tongue Tales and Occupy Wrestling. I’m Garrison Kelly and I’ll see you next time.

Divas

Piper gazed at the butterfly-decorated Divas Championship belt in her paws with a sense of pride and joy. Holding this title was a dream of hers ever since she was a kitten. In her mind, dreams always came true and could never be taken away by oppressive forces. Her naivety was a source of sweetness for her adoring kitty fans as evidenced by the way they meowed and purred at her entrance. She did it all for them and she was determined not to let them down this evening during her title defense. With her black tank top, pink leather pants, and white boots snug against her white furry kitty body, she was ready to go. She kissed her Divas Championship belt for good luck before her music hit.

The arena darkened as the piano intro of “April Rain” by Delain caused the kitties and puppies in the audience to cheer and howl for their favorite wrestler. Once the intense guitars and drums sounded, Piper danced out to the isle to an even louder chorus of cheers. She high fived her tiny fans in the front row and gave a hug to an oversized Bassett Hound near the ring. Piper leaped on the apron and over the top rope with such athletic grace before prancing around the ring and parading her hard-earned championship. She even high-fived the Springer Spaniel ring announcer and hugged Willem the schipperke referee. Piper was certain this feel-good moment would last forever and showed it on her cute kitty face with a squinty-eyed smile.

And then the slow and sensual blue-eyed soul music of “Son of a Preacher Man” by Dusty Springfield echoed throughout the arena. The older dogs in the audience howled with lust while the tiny kittens booed their heads off. Coming out to the stage were three cats dressed in royal pink robes and little diamond-encrusted tiaras. Posing on the left side of the stage was the calico runt of the litter, Calypso. Posing on the right with her claws extended like a Marvel superhero was the fierce black and white Stitches. In the middle was the arrogantly strutting queen of the divas, Tori. Together this group was known as the Supermodel Kitties.

None of the boos in the arena could compare to Piper’s fiery stare down the ramp as the Supermodel Kitties pompously danced their way to the ring. For weeks leading up to this match, they called her “Piper-Diaper” and Photoshopped pictures of her in baby outfits. A tear formed in her eye at these traumatic thoughts and Calypso was sharp enough to catch it. She got up on the apron and flailed her paws next to her ears while sticking her tongue out at Piper.

The proud Divas Champion shouted, “Why, you!” before dashing to the opposite side the ring to deliver a drop kick. Calypso pulled the top rope down at the last minute and Piper crashed and burned on the concrete floor below. Calypso stayed on the apron and continued her nee-ner-nee-ner taunts while Tori and Stitches were scratching and biting the hell out of their victim. Willem barked and growled his warnings at a rapid fire pace, but the Supermodel Kitties refused to listen and resumed their taunting and beating of Piper.

Willem hopped over the top rope and did his best hyper barking while chasing the Supermodel Kitties to the other side of the ring. He gave a few more commanding barks at the now shaking cats before running back over to Piper and licking her wounds with his sloppy dog tongue. Willem spent the longest time tending to the cat’s wounds and she still wouldn’t wake up. It seemed as though the schipperke had no choice but to bark for paramedics on the ramp way.

The proud Supermodel Kitties wrapped their arms around each other’s necks and danced up and down chanting, “Piper-Diaper!” much to the dismay of the booing crowd. Calypso even had an animal diaper in her paws to illustrate such humiliation.

This charade would have lasted the rest of the night if it wasn’t for Piper nipping up to her feat and letting out a dreaded hiss. The Supermodel Kitties watched on with wide-eyed shock as Tori’s opponent leaped back into the ring and made a “come here” gesture with her paws. “You want some of this?!” Piper shouted. “Come and get it, you skanky hoes!”

A resounding “Ooo!” echoed throughout the arena while the stunned Supermodel Kitties’ jaws were on the floor. Cat wrestling was considered to be family entertainment, but Piper didn’t give a damn about her language at that point. She also waved off Willem when he tried licking her wounds again. With Calypso and Stitches slowly taking opposite sides of the ring, Tori was also in no hurry to get inside. But once she was, the ring announcer ran away without doing his job knowing how fierce this battle would be.

Willem barked five times at the ringside timekeeper, who rung the bell to signify the beginning of the match. Piper and Tori ran to the center of the ring and threw the sharpest claws they could at each other. Their violent hisses and howls added enough drama to this match to get the crowd to rise to their feet and cheer. The crowd really got going when Piper leaped in the air, wrapped her legs around Tori’s neck, and flipped the Supermodel Kitty on her back. Tori nipped up and got thrown by her arm across the ring for her troubles. This sequence of getting up and getting tossed continued for Tori until Piper applied a shoulder lock to her and kept the obnoxious brat grounded and howling.

It looked like Tori was going to slam her paws to the mat to signal a tap-out victory. And then Calypso got on the ring apron and mockingly cried at Piper. “Boohoo, I’m a big baby and I like to suck on pacifiers!” While Willem was rattling off his super-quick barks at the runty calico, Stitches reached through the ropes and swatted her knife-like claws into Piper’s butt. The champion howled in pain and jumped high in the air while holding her backside.

Calypso got down from the apron while Tori hopped to her feet and body slammed Piper to the mat. While the champ was down, Tori leaped off the middle rope and back flipped chest first into Piper, driving the air from the dreamer kitty’s already exhausted lungs. Tori then wrapped her arm around the champ’s chin and held her face in front of Calypso and Stitches for further humiliation.

The tiny calico pulled out a smart phone and recorded a video of Piper’s contorted face in what would be known as The Huh Challenge. Calypso mockingly said, “My name is Piper and I cry myself to sleep every night like a big fat baby! HUH?!”

Stitches giggled while taking the phone from Calypso and doing her own Huh Challenge. “My name is Piper and my favorite thing to eat is whatever’s in the litter box! HUH?!” The two outside kitties high-fived each other and giggled some more at Piper’s expense.

Meanwhile, a single tear dropped from Piper’s eye as she gritted her fangs and tightened her claws. This was the BS she had to put up with on live television for weeks now. She growled at the thought of her opponents acting like middle school children instead of legitimate wrestlers. She growled even harder when the audience tried to cheer her back into this match. Piper needed this victory. She needed to show that dreams always come true no matter how high the odds were stacked.

Piper slithered underneath the chin lock, grabbed Tori around her waist, and threw her backwards on her neck. The Supermodel Kitty flopped around like a fish as she was thrown backwards again. And again. And again. Calypso and Stitches weren’t even paying attention to the action going on in the ring as they were too busy taking selfies. Piper glared like a hungry tiger at them as she bounced off the ropes and flew over the top turnbuckle. She landed perfectly on Stitches and ripped her apart with her claws like a Christmas present while Calypso watched on in wide-eyed, shaky-bodied horror.

Piper turned her fiery glare to Calypso and gave her a leonine howl and an ophidian hiss. The champion chased the Supermodel Kitty around the ring multiple times. She didn’t care about the exhaustion in her body from the main event match. She was sucking down air like a whirlwind as she saw nothing but red when she gazed upon Calypso. The calico brat was getting tuckered out herself, so she slid underneath the bottom rope and drew the ire of Willem, who trapped her in the corner and gave off more rapid fire barks.

The champ slid underneath the bottom rope as well, and this time she was sure to dine upon Calypso’s pencil neck. She could already taste the blood like a shark swirling its prey. Even though Piper didn’t have as many teeth as a shark, she would make every vampire bite feel like a bloodlust chainsaw attack anyways.

And that was when she felt something sharp jam into the back of her neck. The intense pain and black vision suggested Tori used a foreign object to get the upper hand behind the schipperke’s back. Once Calypso dived out of the ring and curled in a corner, Tori finished the job with a high-impact kick underneath Piper’s chin, knocking her out just long enough to be pinned for three seconds.

Willem tapped the mat three times and the match was over. Piper’s championship reign, just like her vision, had faded away with quickness. The only dream she would be living was the one in her subconscious theater, which only played horror movies that day. When her eyes slowly opened, her bruised and battered body made her feel like road kill. The unending pain was just as emotional when she awakened to find an animal diaper fastened to her crotch. The Supermodel Kitties danced around on the ramp, celebrating with the title and mocking Piper with more nee-ner-nee-ner taunts.

The never-ending tears in Piper’s eyes caused her vision to fade to black once more. She didn’t remember being helped to the doctor’s office. She didn’t remember the stitches she would require. Her emotions were robotic as she tried to process being humiliated by the Supermodel Kitties. She stared into space not wanting to think about the future or how her diapered sorrow was broadcast not only for the television audience, but also the internet troglodytes.

The more she stared into those white walls, the less of a choice she had in what to think about. She tried to shove it down. She tried to hold back the tears. But the tears kept rolling down like whitewater rapids. Her depressed howling couldn’t be helped. Her childhood dream was shattered like a pot of dead roses. Piper had the innocence of a child for most of her life. Now she made the roughest of transitions into adulthood and realized that nightmares were the norm in this world. The tears poured like an avalanche of cold emotions as she laid there all alone in the doctor’s office. With such a humiliating defeat, she was more than just physically alone in this world.

But if her childhood innocence taught her anything, it was not to cry because it was over. It was to smile because it happened. She loved that butterfly-decorated championship. It gave her some warm memories of being adored by the crowd. All the hugs, high-fives, and cheers helped to dry her ultra-wet, ultra-red eyeballs. They were the only things that got her through the hard training and violent matches. And now that Piper was contractually obligated to a rematch, she couldn’t let those beautiful fans down twice.

As she wiped the last of her tears from her furry face, Piper reached her paw over and picked up a scalpel from the bench. Tori cheated by using a sharp object similar to this one, so why shouldn’t Piper do the same when she wanted to win her Divas Championship back? But what would her fans think of her if she did such a thing? Would they ostracize her if she sunk to the Supermodel Kitties’ level?

In that doctor’s office, Piper had a decision to make. What was more important to her: the belt and all the money that came with it, or the fans that energized her every night and stayed loyal until the end? She had a long night of thinking ahead of her, but one thing was for certain her mind: “Those bitches are going to pay!”

Every Pic You Post

(In the style of “Every Breath You Take” by The Police.)

Every pic you post

Every friend you poke

Every meme you share

Every feeling you bear

I’ll be browsing you

Every single day

Every app you play

Every Face Book page

Every rant you rage

I’ll be browsing you

I can’t refrain

You’re in the public domain

How vicariously I live

With every like you give

Every video you film

Every bean you spill

Every life event thrill

Every second you kill

I’ll be browsing you

Since you’re here, I’ll look you up with no remorse

You’re already in the public eye, of course

There’s nothing they can do in the police force

There’s no sense in taking my big ass to court

I’ll browse whoever I goddamn well please!

I can’t refrain

You’re in the public domain

How vicariously I live

With every like you give

Every video you film

Every bean you spill

Every life event thrill

Every second you kill

I’ll be browsing you

Unrequited Love Stereotype, or "That Guy"

***UNREQUITED LOVE STEREOTYPE, OR “THAT GUY”***

In all my time of surfing the internet, I never knew the Urban Dictionary could actually be educational on some occasions. I thought it was just a safe haven for swear words and sex terms like “See You Next Tuesday”, or the clearly made-up “Quaker Cum Meal” (if you don’t know what that is, I’m not going to tell you). The other day when I surfed the Urban Dictionary, I typed in the words “Unrequited Love” and the results were mildly depressing. It’s basically when you love someone (or have a crush on them) and they don’t love you back (either because they don’t know you or don’t give a damn). Every celebrity crush in the world is an example of unrequited love. Every damn one.

When I was going to Western Washington University from 2007 to 2009, my source of unrequited love was Tarja Turunen, the former lead singer from Nightwish. I set the bar pretty high for myself and was let down when my stubby arms couldn’t reach it. So naturally I assumed every local crush was just as high on the bar as well. I wrote tons of essays and poems dedicating my love to this opera metal diva, but I tiptoed around the language used to write them because I didn’t want to be...that guy. I didn’t want to be the stereotypical 300 pounder with a Princess Leia poster on my wall, a Tifa Lockhart photo for a desktop screen, and a sorrowful attitude towards romance. I tried hard not to be an embarrassing version of…that guy. So I kept it all on the inside most of the time.

You know what happens to people who are…that guy, right? Well, the minute they bear their feelings to the world, some yo-yo will sit them down, pat them condescendingly on the shoulder, and give them a familiar speech we’ve all grown tired of. “You know, Garrison…Japan had an earthquake, Haiti had an earthquake, there’s mass starvation in Africa, there’re wars going on in Afghanistan and Iraq…and you’re crying over chicks?” Granted, some of those travesties are dated in today’s world, but you’ve heard that speech, I’m sure. Folks, not one time has anybody thought of worldwide earthquakes and immediately felt like a million bucks about their own problems. The author of “The Perks of Being a Wallflower” makes this clear in his novel (read it, damn you!).

If someone who has been labeled…that guy gets any kind of reward for his awkward and depressing behavior, it will be because of sympathy and no other reason. I didn’t want that for myself either. If I ever decide to date again, I want it to be with someone who genuinely thinks I’m a cool person, not because they feel like they have to. When a girl feels like she has to, it’s not a sign of a healthy relationship. Nobody is obligated to date anybody for any reason, and that’s the way it should be, quite honestly.

Even now, I don’t talk about unrequited love these days because I’m still fighting the urge to be…that guy. I used to talk about it a lot whenever I’d blog about dreams I’ve had or music I’ve listened to. Not anymore. It got old after a while and I had successfully become…that guy. So what happens to people when they refuse to become…that guy and they still don’t have it in them to approach their love interests? They become indifferent to romance. Every once a while the urge will come back, but ultimately, indifference takes over.

If you’d like to know how hard someone has to work to not be…that guy, do me a favor. Get on your computer, smart phone, or smart TV and type in Netflix (or some other movie streaming service). In the search engine, type in the movie “Obselidia” and you’ll find out all about your precious unrequited love. I did a review on this movie once, but I didn’t give away any spoilers. Well, just for this journal, I’m going to spoil the movie for you, so if you enjoy surprises, skip this part of the blog.

George is an introverted librarian who has tasked himself with keeping an encyclopedia of all things obsolete (hence the title “Obselidia”). He even believes romance is obsolete as evidenced by the way he turns down a date from a customer at the library. He’s lonely, but doesn’t want to admit it. And then as part of his research for his encyclopedia, he meets a projectionist named Sophie, who is all bubbles and smiles when it comes to the world. The two of them go on a trip to Death Valley together and get an earful from an environmentalist who believes climate change will destroy our world sooner than later (it actually might, I’m not doubting him).

George is ready to include the whole planet in his encyclopedia, but spending more and more time with Sophie brings the positivity out of him that he needed. They get back to the city and George finally musters up the courage to bring Sophie flowers and confess his love. But when he arrives at her apartment, some guy in the background says, “Who is it, sweetie?” George barricades himself in his own home and refuses to answer Sophie’s pleading messages on his machine. In this one moment of unrequited love, Sophie has managed to squeeze George’s eyeballs dry of tears like she was making the most sorrowful pitcher of orange juice.

Unrequited love is basically a catch 22. If you don’t talk about it, you get hurt. If you do talk about it, you get hurt. Nobody would have blamed George if he sheltered himself forever, yet he manages to keep the positive attitude he gained from his experiences with Sophie. It makes perfect sense as a movie ending, but brain chemistry doesn’t always work like that in the real world. And that’s really all romance is: brain chemistry with an addictive reward system. When you get one kiss from a pretty girl, you want more. And when you don’t get more, you get withdrawal. And when you get withdrawal, you try your hardest not to become…that guy.

***WEEKLY SHORT STORY CONTESTS AND COMPANY***

I’ve been waiting forever for an excuse to write the following short story. Now that the prompt is “butterfly”, I’ve got to strike while the iron is hot. This story is a combination of the WWE Divas Revolution in 2015 and life with cats that I currently have or have taken care of in the past. My mom calls our cats divas all the time (because of how often they want attention), so this short story will be called “Divas”. It goes like this:

CHARACTERS:

1. Piper, Divas Champion
2. Tori, Leader of the Supermodel Kitties
3. Stitches, Enforcer for the Supermodel Kitties
4. Calypso, Rookie from the Supermodel Kitties
5. Willem, Schipperke Referee

PROMPT CONFORMITY: The Divas Championship belt has a butterfly design on it.

SYNOPSIS: In a pro-wrestling organization where the female wrestlers are humanoid cats, Piper is defending her Divas Championship against Tori at a pay-per-view main event. Piper has held the championship for over a year on the platform of making her dreams come true and being a role model for young cats. During their rivalry, the Supermodel Kitties have made Piper’s life miserable by calling her “Piper-Diaper” and other childish middle school names. With Stitches and Calypso to serve as ringside distractions, Piper could very well lose her championship to Tori and disprove the idea that all dreams come true.

***FACE BOOK POST OF THE DAY***

(Here’s an interaction I’d like to see happen on WWE Monday Night Raw.)

MICHAEL COLE: And here comes Bayley for her one-on-one match!

COREY GRAVES: Keep your hands above the table, Saxton!

BYRON SAXTON: That’s not PG.

The Geomancer

Getting away from the madness of city life was exactly what Ally Bennett needed when she went on this hiking trip. Not a single soul dared to venture up these mountains and that was just the way Miss Bennett liked it. She was dressed for the boiling hot weather with her hiking boots, tan shorts, and tight camouflage T-shirt. Sweat poured off her brow, arms, and legs like a fire hydrant, but she didn’t give two shits and a flying fuck in a rolling donut. Her long brunette hair felt sticky, but that was yet another small price for the sake of introverted physical fitness. She lived for the beauty of Mother Nature no matter what the weather was like.

Just when she thought she was alone at the top of the mountain, she saw something that made her drop her hiking staff to the rocky ground. “What the hell?” she silently said to herself as she noticed a man dressed in green and blue wizard robes chanting in tongues while holding out his hands in a Jesus Christ pose. Ally’s first thought was to run back down the mountain screaming like hell. But this mysterious being was just like a car crash: she couldn’t look away no matter how much she wanted to.

The mystical chant ended when the blue haired being turned his head and gave Ally a look of venomous scorn. “You have no business up here, woman. Turn around and leave if you value your life!”

“First of all, dumb shit,” said Ally with her hands on her hips. “This is a national fucking park. Everybody’s welcome here no matter how weird they look in those god awful clothes of yours. Second of all, my name is not woman. It’s Ally. Ally Bennett.”

“Bryan Valencia,” said the wizard. “Nice to meet you, Miss Bennett. Now that the sappy introductions are over, I suggest you get going before shit starts going down!”

“Okay, Mr. Wizard Guy, that sounded a little bit like a threat, so I’m just going to pull out my cell phone and dial 9-1-1…what the hell are you doing?!” Ally never got the chance to press the buttons on her smart phone as she was stunned by Bryan’s geomantic powers. With wide-eyed horror, she watched him raise his palm in the air and levitate a large rock off the ground. The floating rock was hurled into Ally’s cell phone, shattering the gizmo into tiny fragments while giving Ally a red mark on her hand and a reason to scream “Ow! Jesus!”

As the hiker shook out the pain in her palm, Bryan smiled at her and said, “Do I have your attention now? Would you like another demonstration of how badly I can crush you? That rock trick was just child’s play compared to the damage I’m capable of.”

Clutching her hand to sooth the pain, Ally asked, “Who the hell are you, anyways? I know you said your name was Bryan and all that, but what the fuck, man? You’re lifting rocks off the ground, you’re dressed like you’re going to a nerd convention, you’ve got blue fucking hair, I don’t know what to believe anymore!”

“All of those things you so ignorantly described are the traits of a geomancer,” said Bryan.

“Geo what?”

“Geomancer. I control the elements of the earth. If I want an earthquake, I’ll give you one. If I want a mudslide, you’ve got it. But then I figured, why stop there? Earthquakes and mudslides are tinker toys. To really get in touch with Mother Nature, I have to be right here at the top of this mountain. A mountain, which by the way, was at one point an active volcano. You ever wonder why nobody comes up here? Well, let’s just say they’re not fast enough to run away from the lava, like the idiot brain surgeon politician once said. I swear to god, the ignorance of your people is mind-boggling,” ranted Bryan.

“So this is it, huh?” said Ally in a stern voice. “You’re going to blow up this damn volcano just to show everyone who’s boss. You’re such a noble guy.”

With his fists at his side, Bryan roared, “What do you know about nobility?!” The sudden crescendo caused Ally to bounce backward in fear. “Why do you think people go on hiking trips to begin with? To get away from it all. Well, I’m not getting away from anything. I’m confronting the sins of this world dead on. Don’t you ever get sick of the world sometimes? All the violence, all the rape, all the bigotry, all the zeal. The poor are disenfranchised while those in charge get a slap on the wrist. Women are treated as sex objects while men laugh at their misery. Dropping bombs has become the new diplomacy. Well, if it’s bombs you want, I’ll drop the biggest one mankind has ever seen! My decades of geomantic studies have come down to this! And there’s nothing you can do about it!”

“Actually, there is something I can do about it,” said Ally with her arms folded and a death stare on her face.

“And what would that be?” asked Bryan mockingly. “I already shattered your cell phone, so the cops aren’t even close to coming. As far as I know, you don’t have geomantic powers of your own, so striking you down with a thousand stones would be the easiest part of my day. So what other options do you have? What could you possibly do that will stop me from exacting revenge on this world?”

“Call you out on your bullshit, that’s what,” said Ally. Bryan’s facial features and fierce stance softened at the hiker’s stubbornness. “Being against all of those violent things that you’ve listed is noble in its own right. You’d be crazy not to be. It’s like being in favor of kittens and rainbows. Up with puppies! But what good is being against the sins of the world if you’re committing one right now? You’re not a hero to anybody. You’re a hypocrite! Your volcanic blast will take out all of those rich assholes and male chauvinists you hate so much, but it’ll also take out those sexualized women and innocent children that you claim to have a soft spot for. By blowing this volcano, you’ll be no different from the politicians who drop bombs on helpless civilians overseas. Is that the mark you want to leave on this world? Do you want to be a hypocrite?!”

Bryan tucked his head in shame as if those words stung him like a scorpion’s tail. He spent lengthy seconds in what appeared to be silent and deep contemplation. He lifted his head once more, but this time with the same hardened expression as when he started his spell. “You’re so full of shit! How dare you question my tactics! You really think the innocents want to live in a world run by these rich lunatics? Consider this a mercy killing, my friend!”

Something inside Ally Bennett snapped. She grabbed her walking cane and held it like a samurai warrior ready to strike. Her muscles twitched. Her eyes were wild with fiery anger. Her teeth were clenched hard enough to chew through steel. Every word she spoke was full of vitriol and hatred. “If you’re not going to listen to reason, then I’m going to make you! You’re not going to do shit to this world! If I’m going down, I’m going down fighting! This world is worth saving and you’re not going to do shit about it!”

Bryan raised his hands and levitated an entire wall of rocks off the ground, but Ally remained strong and defiant in the face of this new challenge. The geomancer threatened, “You just made the biggest mistake of your life, you crazy bitch! Prepare to die!”

The wizard rained down a storm of rocks upon Ally, hoping to crush her bones into the same fineness as the dirt below. Even with sharp stones piercing her skin, the undeterred hiker swung her cane like a baseball bat and knocked a few of them into Bryan’s throat. While Ally was buried and bloodied underneath a pile of rocks, Bryan Valencia clutched his windpipe while gasping for air. He danced around in pain trying to get his oxygen back, but made a critical mistake when he fell off the ledge of the mountain and rolled down the hill.

The geomancer bumped into many large stones, trees, and sharp grass blades during his barrel roll down the side of the mountain. His spine crunched in two, his arms and legs were shattered beyond repair, and his head exploded with his brains scattered across the landscape. By the time he reached the bottom, he was already a necromantic supper for a family of bears, who feasted on his carcass like the wild animals they were. Nothing was left of Bryan Valencia except for bones and tiny chunks of meat and shit.

Back at the top of the mountain, Ally Bennett stayed buried beneath the rocks like it was going to be her grave. She hadn’t moved for the longest time and her bloody limbs squeezed fresh juice to trickle down the mountain. After what seemed like ages, her fingers twitched and her dirt-covered eyes barely opened.

At that moment she knew she couldn’t run away from the world’s problems like she intended to do in this hike. She was a hero that day for what she did to Bryan Valencia. Her work was far from over. If she was going to join the resistance against oppressive values, she couldn’t do it through volcanoes, earthquakes, or any other form of terrorism. It’s like a famous first lady once said: “When they go low, you go high.” It didn’t get any higher than the top of a volcanic mountain. It didn’t get any lower than being a human buffet table for a family of brown bears.

"Benevolent Slayers" by Marie Krepps

BOOK TITLE: Benevolent Slayers

AUTHOR: Marie Krepps

YEAR: 2017

GENRE: Fiction

SUBGENRE: Post-Apocalyptic Fantasy

GRADE: Pass

In a necrocosm swarming with evil beasts, it is the duty of the Benevolent Slayers to extinguish these threats and bring peace to the world. Although the muscular warrior Brock the Rock and the magic-wielding druid Saber share the same job title, they work together only out of necessity and not because they want to. The more adventures they go on together, the more they realize just how much they need each other. They’ve spent years closing their hearts off to everyone around them due to their painful pasts. Now that they have an ultra-powerful vampire to hunt down, freezing each other out is no longer an option. It’s kill or be killed in this post-apocalyptic nightmare and nobody does a better job of killing than Brock and Saber.

The themes of dead emotions and social barriers are what really got me into this story. I personally have struggled with shyness and keeping everyone out all of my life, which is why my social circle is limited to only a few people. In this story you have two badass warriors, Brock and Saber, who don’t want to be vulnerable around each other for fear of getting hurt worse than when they actually go into battle. But the more time they spend around each other, the more they begin to open up about their traumas. Reading about a character in a book is like having a relationship in real life: you can only care about somebody if you have a reason to do so. The more you know about a person, the less likely you are to judge them. Marie Krepps doesn’t just make you care about her two main characters; she holds your emotions hostage and squeezes those tears from your eyes like grapefruit juice.

Of course, where would a fantasy story be if there wasn’t at least a modicum of delicious violence? Here, you get more than a modicum. There’s no rest for the weary in this world of villainous demons. If you’re caught slipping, you’ll be a bloody mess before you can say…anything at all. Normally readers like to cheer for the average joe because that’s who they can relate the most to. This world weeds out the average joes in a big hurry whether it’s with a plague or getting ripped apart by savage warriors. Yes, the two main characters are battle-tested ass-kickers, but they’re far from Mary-Sues and Gary-Stus. They’re real people with a lifetime full of intense emotions (which they keep hidden from each other throughout the novel, of course). Not only will you root for them to get their ducks in a row, but you will also cheer like a stadium full of wild fans once they win their physical battles. And boy, do they have plenty of those!

You also have to admire the world-building Marie Krepps has done with her novel. You would think a post-apocalyptic world would be easy breezy lemon squeezy since it’s basically just one big rotten wasteland. Uh-uh! These towns vary wildly from each other whether it’s the ability to relax, the urgency of their problems, the hostility or friendliness of the citizens, and the political structure of those in charge. Even the outside world has a lot of uniqueness to it, mostly because of the strange creatures and bipolar weather systems that pass through. Somewhere near the beginning of the novel, Marie Krepps made room for a tanuki, which is a Japanese creature that’s a mix between a raccoon and a dog. Whenever I kept reading about him, I just wanted to rub his belly and play with his ears. Aww! Every place the Slayers go and every person or creature they meet is as colorful and vivid as a reader would want them to be, if not more so.

This novel is more than just an ass-kicking fairytale. It’s every bit as emotional and heartbreaking as it is violent and colorful. You have no choice but to actually give a damn about these characters and if you don’t, you probably don’t have a pulse. If you don’t have a pulse, you can always count on Saber to use her healing magic on you. I won’t say when she uses it or what the circumstances are, but when she does, your heart will explode with passion like an active volcano. This A+ author deserves yet another passing grade for her beautiful story!

I'm Back From NOLA

***I’M BACK FROM NOLA***

If you’ve seen my Face Book posts about this particular vacation, you’ll notice the central themes of exhaustion and crabbiness. Truth is, though, it wouldn’t be right to complain about sleep schedules and lack of private time when many of my readers would kill for a chance to have fun in New Orleans, Louisiana. Why wouldn’t they? The food is next-level delicious, the eye-candy is sweeter than their actual desserts (that’s saying a lot!), and the weirdness of the late-night partying gives the city its individuality. Aren’t vacations supposed to be about having a good time anyways?

The first day of the vacation was Sunday, which means lots of airplane and taxi riding. If you’re traveling to New Orleans, your ass-numbing patience will be rewarded with a delicious dinner of tender and juicy rib-eye steak, soft and salty French fries, and some fried oysters that everybody can share (with good reason). Even before entering the restaurant, if you’re in this scenario, you get to meet a crazy guy who calls his little doggy a “reincarnated angel in animal form”. Come to think of it, if I didn’t know how weird New Orleans can be, I’d swear that guy owns a windowless van. Hehe! Nah, that’s mean. He had a good puppy-duppy, I mean, angel from heaven.

The second day was all about riding a boat through the swamplands and getting to see some awesome creatures in their natural habitat. There were so many gators in that swamp that you’d swear Karen Russell’s novels took place in New Orleans instead of Florida. We also got to see some wild piggies, some of whom were affectionately named Male Chauvinist Pig, Piggy Smalls, and Notorious PIG. Goddamn, that tour guide had a wild sense of humor. He even made a few wisecracks about throwing his guests overboard since they were “live bait”. And when we pulled into the dock, we got to pet small kitties hanging out at the ticket office. There was a tuxedo kitty, a panther-looking kitty, a gray and white beauty, and a shy Siamese sweetie that reminded me of Luna-Tuna. So many animals in one day!

Dia numero tres (forgive me if my Spanish is off) was spent going on a van tour of the city and learning all about the history of this wild and crazy city. Houses were purposefully raised to deal with flooding, some of them high enough to fit an entire level underneath. When Hurricane Katrina did its damage, it wasn’t he levies that broke. It was the rising level of the lake, a lake which feeds off into the Gulf of Mexico. From what I’ve seen, New Orleans still has quite a bit of work to do in recovering from this environmental disaster. Theme parks need to be restored, buildings need to be used, and schools need to be reopened. It can and will be done. If there’s anything you can learn from the people of New Orleans, it’s that they can persevere through anything and keep their smiles alive in the process.

The fourth day was easily the most eye-opening and educational part of the vacation. We visited Whitney Plantation and got to learn about the oppressive lives of black slaves. Our tour guide, Ali, even said that the alternative right racists have nothing on the slave owners back in the 1700’s and 1800’s. Owning slaves wasn’t just about physically beating someone into submission. It was psychological torture as well. The slaves lost their names, their culture, their education, and their family structures thanks to this disgusting business of treating human beings like property. Visit Whitneyplantation.com to see just how fucked up of a past we have. Racism is real, slavery is real, and both still exist in other forms in today’s world.

The fifth and final day was spent wandering around the French Quarter looking for various shops to pay a visit to. My mom got a facial at a beauty shop and the European lady who performed that service told me that I was “cute and handsome” and that she wishes she had a mommy like mine. My face was redder than the Communist Manifesto. I’m just kidding, I don’t write like that. Hehe! Dale visited various candy shops and got his fill of chocolates and pralines. I got a full body reflexology massage that relieved the stresses of travel and lifted a huge weight off of my shoulders. I also went to the toy store and bought a Lego dragon from the Ninjago franchise, so expect Toy Universe photos in the near future.

This is the second time I’ve been to New Orleans, the first being Halloween in 2011, where I walked down Bourbon Street dressed as a druid. If I ever go there again for Halloween, I’m going dressed as Corey Taylor from Slipknot. Even the late-night partying weirdoes of that city would back away in fear, just like they do in Port Orchard. Hehe! All in all, the tiredness and travel was worth it for five days of necromantic culture and educational history. I’m not sure I’d want to do another long-distance vacation again for a while, but hey, that’s what I have concerts for, which are really just one-day vacations. In June, it’s Roger Waters. In July, it’s Brit Floyd. In August, I have separate dates for Green Day, Metallica, and Incubus. And now in October, it’s Linkin Park with Snoop Dogg opening for them.

It’s easy to feel crabby and whiny when you’re tired all the time, but never forget to be grateful for all of your positive experiences. Home is always waiting for you, sleep is not too far behind, and your best memories will last a lifetime. I’m Garrison Kelly and I’ll see you next time!

***WEEKLY SHORT STORY CONTESTS AND COMPANY***

Now that Demon Axe is in the rear view mirror (at least until I recruit Marie-Pie to help me edit it), I’m going back to writing short stories to include in Poison Tongue Tales 2 and American Darkness 2. With the theme this week being “Call of Nature”, my story will be called “The Geomancer” and it goes like this:

CHARACTERS:

1. Bryan Valencia, Geomancer
2. Ally Bennett, Hiker

PROMPT CONFORMITY: Geomancy requires the wizard to be in touch with nature. It is, after all, the Greek word for “earth magic”.

SYNOPSIS: Ally is hiking in the mountains when she stumbles upon Bryan casting some sort of spell on the summit. When she asks him about it, he openly admits to wanting to cause a volcanic explosion. He’s a misanthrope who’s fed up with the atrocities humans have committed over the years whether it’s rape, war, genocide, or street violence. One blast from this volcano will be powerful enough to literally set the world on fire. It’s up to Ally to talk him down since she’s the only one who believes in Bryan’s geomantic powers.

***SPEAKING OF POISON TONGUE TALES***

I got feedback from my awesome friend Andy Peloquin regarding this lysergic collection of sci-fi, fantasy, and horror stories. Unfortunately, he couldn’t complete it because it was “too trippy” for his tastes. I don’t feel bad at all about that. In fact, I take it as a compliment that he thought he was on acid during his reading adventure. Hehe! I’m the same guy whose favorite movie of all time is Pink Floyd the Wall despite the creepiness of the schoolchildren’s faceless masks. This is a blog entry about New Orleans, so that only adds to the trippiness of it all. If Andy is reading this, I want to thank him for taking the time to read what he could and that there are no hard feelings, only yuk-yuk chuckles.

***BOOGER THE CLOWN***

During the flight home to Washington state, I jotted down ideas for novels in my Lego journal and came up with…”Booger the Clown”. Before you laugh like a donkey at that title, know that it’s an urban fantasy novel idea that deals with depression. Watch You Burn deals with schizophrenia, Occupy Wrestling deals with hair-trigger tempers, and most recently Demon Axe deals with PTSD. Now it’s time to talk about depression, so without further delay, here’s a beginning and middle synopsis for “Booger the Clown”:

CHARACTERS:

1. Andrew Gale a.k.a. Booger, Depressed Clown
2. Stupid Dog, Stray Schipperke
3. Orc Army
4. More to be Named

BEGINNING SYNOPSIS: After a tour of duty in the Middle East, gangsta rap-loving ex-marine Andrew Gale comes home with crippling depression and can only find work as a birthday clown named Booger. On his way to a party, his car breaks down and all he wants to do is sit on the side of the road and drink beer while listening to violent music. When an orc approaches him with a blade and an attitude, Booger thinks it’s just a drunken hallucination and encourages the beast to kill him. The orc becomes stunned at Booger’s suicidal behavior and ends up getting his ass kicked himself. After the battle, the clown finds an abandoned schipperke on the side of the road and calls him Stupid Dog due to his finger biting habits when being fed.

MIDDLE SYNOPSIS: Booger reveals that he didn’t join the marines because of personal politics or even the thrill of war. He joined at a lied-about age so that he could one day be physically and mentally strong enough to kick his abusive father’s ass.

***FACE BOOK POST OF THE DAY***

Just once I’d like to buy a birthday cake for someone, put candles in it that look like penises, and tell the birthday boy to, “Blow them out”.

Demon Axe, Epilogue

Every night since Demon Axe’s final concert, all Daniel Mercer could see was the same creature chasing him down the Holy Mountains. His assailant’s face was dripping with blood that was lapped up with a lizard tongue. The creature’s wings were metallic with blade tips at the end of every feather. His fingers were spikes wrapped in barbed wire.

Despite having all of these weapons at his disposal, the creature always carried a bloodstained machete, a weapon that has claimed thousands of lives and traumatized even more. This blade did more damage than any nuclear bomb ever could. In the face of such a brutal tool of destruction, all Daniel could do was run as fast as he could while struggling for fresh oxygen. He tasted his own blood each time he gasped for air. His ribs crackled and popped like he was running on bubble wrap. His anus burned from sodomy and was a constant source of yuk-yuk humor for the blade-wielding beast.

One night, Daniel couldn’t run anymore. He tripped over his own exhausted legs and laid on the gravely ground heaving and spitting up blood. He was ready for death to take him away to a far better place. This version of hell was more painful to him than the pyrocosm certain religions imagined. “Take me now,” begged Daniel. “Kill me, damn it!”

The creature slowly and mockingly stalked its prey with the machete raised high in the air. One slash would be all it took to send Daniel to a more peaceful backdrop. One painful slash that would last all but a few seconds before eternal darkness swallowed Daniel’s vision. And then the creature tossed its weapon to the side while ripping away at its face, sending bloody chunks every which way and making the Holy Mountains more hellish than they needed to be.

Underneath all of that rancid horror was the loveliest, most beautiful face Daniel had ever seen. Long black hair, cherry-colored lips, creamy green skin, and radiant eyes that only an angel could possess. It was the pointed ears that gave this woman away, however. Not even the blindest of the blind could mistake those quirky ears. And that voice…”Hello? Hello? Is there anybody in there?”

A flood of white light brushed across Daniel’s field of vision and the scene changed from diabolic torment to waking up in a hospital bed. The Demon Axe leader screamed as he sat up in his bed, but breathed more calmly once he realized where he was. The room was dark, but he could still see the rows of flowers left behind during his time of slumber. He lifted up his hospital gown and saw a nasty-looking surgical scar across his torso. With a delicate touch, he felt his ribcage and noticed there were metal plates and screws where his bones used to be. Breathing heavily didn’t hurt as much then as it did when Roger broke his ribs.

Daniel plopped backward in his bed and breathed continual sighs of relief. The nightmare was over. The trauma would last longer once the initial relief wore off, but for this moment, he truly felt safe and relaxed.

There was a gentle knock on the door before Raven let herself in. Instead of wearing her battle outfit, she was dressed in royal red robes adorned with runic symbols and an emerald-encrusted crown atop her head. Daniel had naughty thoughts about his girlfriend’s new look, but tried not to get too hung up on it given the circumstances. Raven whispered, “Daniel, you’re finally awake. Thank goodness you’re okay, my love.” She tiptoed up to him and gave a warm hug, but lightly enough so as not to aggravate the metal singer’s injuries.

Daniel hugged her back and didn’t want to let go of his newfound queen. But when he finally did, he asked, “How long have I been asleep? It feels like forever.”

“You were in a coma for a whole year. The doctors didn’t think you were going to live through the surgery. But you’ve proven what my father knew about you all along: you’re a fighter, Daniel. You’re a no-nonsense warrior with so much left to do,” said Raven with a beautiful smile.

“I wouldn’t go that far,” said Daniel with a sheepish grin. “But seriously though…how am I supposed to rule a whole kingdom when I can’t even get out of bed? What the hell’s been going on while I was asleep?”

Raven sniffled a little bit before saying, “Father finally passed away. I knew it was going to happen sooner or later, but it still hurts to this day. I’ve taken over the throne in his absence, but also in yours. Daniel, I can’t do this by myself. You’re the one who gave my people hope. You’re the one they trust the most. You were directly responsible for ending the nightmare that was Roger Zee.”

“Come on, Raven, you knew I had help,” said Daniel with another sheepish expression.

“Yes, you did have help, but that doesn’t mean you didn’t play a huge part in the outcome. Everybody needs help whether it’s with saving the world or getting over psychological trauma. And now I’m asking you, Daniel, to help me run the elven kingdom. I understand you need more time to recover. But this elf society is a team effort. We’re all in this together. We have to rebuild our structures and bring peace to the land once more. I’d love for you to be a part of that, Daniel.”

The Lord of the Pit stared into Raven’s gorgeous eyes with so many pros and cons to consider. Was he really ready for this kind of responsibility? Was he ready to exchange his role as a victim for that of a courageous leader? These questions weighed more heavily on his heart that the metal plates protecting his surgically-reconstructed ribs.

Another light knock on the door later and a whole host of friends came to see Daniel had finally awakened. Tiger Man, Snowball, and Bone Warrior were still dressed in their monk robes and terrifying masks while Shawn Henry wore metal armor with a sheriff’s badge emblazoned on the chest.

The detective smiled at Daniel while carrying a plate of hospital food that looked too good to have come from such a place. “Danny boy, what’s up? Glad you’re finally awake! Here, have some dinner.”

The singer gave an awkward look to the contents of the plate once it was placed in his lap. Mashed potatoes and asparagus weren’t the most triggering thing on the menu. It was when he picked up a rack of barbecued beef ribs that he chuckled nervously and uttered a squeaky, “Thanks?”

Shawn asked, “What’s wrong, Daniel? Too soon?”

Holding his thumb and forefinger together, the patient said, “It might be just a little bit too soon.”

Bone Warrior opened his robe to reveal a full skeletal suit underneath and asked, “So this isn’t cool either?”

The entire room busted up laughing, including a weak attempt at a chuckle from Daniel, who said, “Actually, that’s fucking awesome.” His smile grew wider when he said, “You guys are the best. I wouldn’t trade you for the world.”

Snowball leaned on Daniel’s bed and asked, “So when are you getting out of this damn thing? We’ve got an album to record and a kingdom to run. That’s two jobs at once, buddy. We’ve already got the guitars, bass, and drums recorded. We just need those sweet ass vocals of yours. Are you up for doing two jobs at once?” After shrugging silence from Daniel, Snowball said, “Come on, big boy! You killed Roger Zee like the badass you are! You can do anything!”

The Lord of the Pit gazed around the room with so much responsibility in his hands. He took in the scent of every lavender flower left behind for him, no doubt from fans and/or elf constituents. He looked at his soon-to-be wife with a combination of love and lust in his eyes. He nodded at Shawn as a sign of confidence for his newfound role as elven sheriff. The only three people left to consider were the ones staring him in the face with those evil, vile masks. These three guys looked every bit as awesome as Daniel’s band mates of the past, most notably from the first incarnation of Demon Axe to the short-lived Demon Death Juice. They also looked tough enough to hang in a wrestling ring with Johnny Vega and Sonia Marquez, may they rest more peacefully than Daniel did in his coma.

Taking everything into consideration, Daniel P. Mercer a.k.a. The Lord of the Pit had one last request: “Get me my goddamn face paint. We’ve got lots of shit to do and little time to do it in. Fuck it, I’m ready!”

New Orleans Vacation

***NEW ORLEANS VACATION***

From Sunday May 14^th to Thursday May 18^th, I’m going on yet another vacation, this time to New Orleans with my parents and my mom’s two friends Mina and Navin. This will be my second time visiting the city with my first time being in 2011. I always joke to my mom that she’ll get to meet Duane Pride from NCIS: New Orleans and have pumpkin pie with him. It really is a fun and lively city with lots to do. The food is next-level delicious no matter what you’re eating, the necromantic culture is jam-packed with creative fuel, and the swamps are thriving with fascinating creatures. I’ll try to take some pictures and post them to my social media accounts. Unlike the Mexican cruise, I won’t be surrounded by water, so my camera will stay safe and dry.

Just like with any vacation I take, this means limited access to the internet. However, it’s slightly less limited since there’s a good chance I’ll have my laptop fixed before we leave for the airport. That doesn’t mean I’m going to be cranking out Demon Axe chapters, raunchy poetry, and two-sentence horror stories like crazy. On the contrary, this is a vacation and vacations are meant for relaxing, not work. If all goes right with the laptop repair, then I’ll be able to vote in the proceeding WSS contest. As far as entering something, since I’m leaving this Sunday, I’ll have to hit the ground running if I want to get that epilogue from Demon Axe in on time. It can be done, however. Epilogues are so easy to write that I can do it standing on my fucking head.

This is a shorter vacation than what I’m normally used to, so you won’t have to do without me for that long. I’ll always come back to snuggle with my own kitties and sleep in my own bed. Vacations are fun, but coming home is always heavenly. I’m Garrison Kelly and I’ll see you soon!

***COMEDIC QUOTE OF THE DAY***

“I’m getting really sick of guys named Todd! It’s a goofy fucking name! “Hi, what’s your name?” “Tooooooodd! I’m Todd! And this is Blake and Blair and Blaine and Brent.” Where are all of these goofy fucking boy’s names coming from? Taylor, Tyler, Jordan, Flynn. These are not real names! You want to hear a real man’s name? Eddy. What happened to Eddy? He was here a minute ago. Joey and Jacky and Johnny and Phil. Bobby and Tommy and Danny and Bill. What happened, Toooooooodd?! And Cody and Dylan and Cameron and Tucker. Fuck Tucker! Tucker sucks! And fuck Tucker’s friend Kyle! There’s another soft boy’s name for you! Soft names make soft people! I’ll bet you anything that ten times out of ten, Nicky, Vinny, and Tony will beat the shit out of Todd, Kyle, and Tucker!”

-George Carlin-

Peace and Love

ONLY VERSE

When a riot breaks out, you pass the buck

Like you have a monopoly on peace and love

You’re the one sending kids to die in wars

Selling automatic rifles in convenience stores

Pushing the big red button to drop the bombs

Turning rape victims into first-time moms

Sending the mentally ill to the electric chair

Excusing the cops who drag women by the hair

You invented violence, you encouraged silence

You’re the one taking free speech like a tyrant

Who’s the one taking the low road now?

Who’s the one making bratty baby sounds?

Who’s the one running to his safest space?

In case you have a confused look on your face…

CHORUS

You don’t know shit about peace and love! X3

You’re the one with blood on your boxing gloves!

You don’t know shit about peace and love! X3

Now who’s the one who has to toughen up?!

Fap

VERSE 1

Princess Leia in a metal bikini

Daphne Blake sucking on a weenie

Wonder Woman with tape on her mouth

Chun Li getting some of the in and out

Masturbating is as natural as breathing

Yet it leaves all the churchgoers seething

They have kids to raise, to protect from sin

As I throw this Kleenex in the garbage bin

CHORUS

Fap X10

VERSE 2

Sheryl Crow with her feet on the dash

Cammy White with a thong up her ass

Tifa Lockhart with a big fucking chest

None of this requires an STD test

‘Cause jerking off is as natural as eating

No judgment for the meat you are beating

It’s the safest fun you can have for free

How about Chi-Chi from Dragon Ball Z?

CHORUS

Fap X10

BRIDGE

You like to judge and point your fingers

Put your blame on those “devil singers”

Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it

Who knows? You might just like it!

VERSE 3

Harley Quinn with her lust and sin

Mercy Graves will never behave

You have the room all to yourself

Have nothing to fear, not even hell

CHORUS

Fap X20

Angel of Chehalis

VERSE 1

In the city of burning crosses

We’ve suffered so many losses

In the town of blind-eye bosses

We were figuring out the causes

But you were the one constant

As I laid down watching for comets

Could you be the Angel of Chehalis?

Would stealing your kiss be tasteless?

CHORUS

You made me believe in love

When I gave up and had enough

You brought me out of the dark

Angel of Chehalis, take my heart

VERSE 2

You flew away in the dead of night

Deprived this city of your radiant light

I carried my burden with all my might

It’s my cross to bear, no love to share

I walked the earth, but saw no sign

Of the angel from the burning ley line

Are you still the Angel of Chehalis?

Or has this damn city left you jaded?

CHORUS

You made me believe in love

When I gave up and had enough

You brought me out of the dark

Angel of Chehalis, take my heart

VERSE 3

Finding heaven in the strangest places

Finding angels in the saddest faces

Finding the living in permanent stasis

Finding the dead lonely and wasted

In the city of burning crosses

I walk away and cut my losses

Until we meet again, Angel of Chehalis

Until this world is a photograph faded

EXTENDED CHORUS

You made me believe in love

When I gave up and had enough

You brought me out of the dark

Angel of Chehalis, take my heart

Take my body, take my soul

Take my mind, take total control

Fill the chasms and the black holes

Why must this memory take its toll?

Most Disgusting Promotional Tactics of 2016

***MOST DISGUSTING PROMOTIONAL TACTICS OF 2016***

Over the years of doing these kinds of journals, I’ve always rationalized posting these by saying it’s all in the name of creative fuel. Only a handful of times has a disgusting promotional tactic in wrestling and MMA resulted in any artistic ideas or stories. I might as well come clean while I’ve got the chance. I love shocking the hell out of people. I’ve loved it since hearing my first George Carlin routine as a sophomore in high school. When Susan was living with us, I’d tell her about these awful promotional tactics and she’d give me this wide-eyed stare while yelling, “That’s fucked up!” Think of this as combining my love for shocking people with my love for pro-wrestling and MMA. In the year 2016, nine items were nominated for Most Disgusting Promotional Tactic. Nine! I’ll analyze each item from winner to last place and I’ll see if I can get those gasps out of you guys. This somehow reminds me of the Disney movie Monsters Inc. Hehe! Let’s get started!

WINNER: Bellator MMA booking a fight between Kimbo Slice and Dada 5000.

ANALYSIS: Having a mind-numbingly boring match on a pay-per-view card isn’t necessarily a recipe for offensiveness (unless you paid a shit-load of money to see it). When both fighters are older than dust, overweight, dehydrated, and have to be helped out of their stools in between rounds, then I can see how it might be just a tad exploitative. It doesn’t help matters that Kimbo Slice died in mid-2016 just a day after Muhammad Ali passed as well. Putting fighters in danger and putting fans to sleep: Jesus, Bellator!

SECOND PLACE: Brock Lesnar bloodying Randy Orton’s forehead with stiff elbows.

ANALYSIS: While I admit that booking this muscle freak Brock Lesnar as a 21^st century killing machine is smart on WWE’s part, concussing Randy Orton just to get some blood on TV is going a little too far. I don’t mind blood on a TV-PG pay-per-view. Hell, I was with the fans at NXT TakeOver: Dallas when they chanted “Fuck PG!” after Samoa Joe was busted open. But if you’re a company that’s trying to fight off a concussion lawsuit, stiff elbows to the forehead might not be the way to go. Let’s not forget how Chris Benoit met his unfortunate end. Andrew “Test” Martin, too.

THIRD PLACE: Adam Rose using his domestic violence mug shot as a T-shirt design.

ANALYSIS: Domestic violence is bad enough, but when you’re sticking your mug shot on a T-shirt and selling it online, that’s pretty much like rubbing salt in the wound. It’s like those cops in New York wearing T-shirts that say, “Breathe easy, don’t break the law” after they choked the shit out of that black dude. In Adam Rose’s case, he justified his actions by saying it’s a celebration of making it through dark times and even said his wife suggested that the mug shot go on a white tank top. Get it? Because it’s called a wifebeater? Ha, ha, ha…ha, ha….ugh…

FOURTH PLACE: Lucha Underground booking intergender matches.

ANALYSIS: Believe it or not, this was a candidate for the award in 2015 as well. It’s also the only item so far that has garnered a short story idea for me. It’s called “Gender Blind” and it’s about an MMA promotion that books their first man vs. woman match and generates a shit-ton of controversy in the process. Supporters of Lucha Underground could argue equality between men and women, but come on, what’s so equal about Pentagon Jr. slapping the shit out of Sexy Star? Maybe they should put their mug shots on a T-shirt and generate more revenue.

FIFTH PLACE: Rizin MMA booking a fight between Gabi Garcia and Shinobu Kandori.

ANALYSIS: Thank god this match didn’t actually take place, but Kandori’s replacement wasn’t any less of a mismatch with Gabi Garcia. Miss Garcia is a young lady with more muscles and veins on her body than actual skin while Kandori’s replacement is a super old former professional wrestler with a broken down body and a shorter stature. Not surprisingly, Gabi Garcia won the fight via TKO in a short amount of time, much like a high school football player beating up a fifth grader for his lunch money.

SIXTH PLACE: TNA withholding payments to Billy Corgan.

ANALYSIS: In addition to being the front man for The Smashing Pumpkins, Billy Corgan is also passionate about pro-wrestling, so much so that he tried to buy TNA and save them from their ultimate demise. Unfortunately, he never got his money back and tried to sue the company for his owed payments. TNA being irresponsible with money? Huh. Who would’ve thunk it? TNA has since been saved by Anthem Sports, but it still leaves a sour taste in Billy Corgan’s mouth. Sour tastes aren’t necessarily good for singing Smashing Pumpkins songs.

SEVENTH PLACE: WWE recreating the Montreal Screwjob with Bret Hart and Natalya.

ANALYSIS: The Montreal Screwjob in 1997 will go down as one of the biggest mistreatments of loyal wrestlers in history. Bret Hart was supposed to win his match with Shawn Michaels and keep his WWF Championship in front of the Canadian crowd. And then Shawn Michaels beat Bret with his own sharpshooter move and stole the championship. Fast forward to 2016 and the same thing happens with Natalya when she tries to defeat Charlotte Flair for the WWE Women’s Championship, right in front of Uncle Bret. Barf!

EIGHTH PLACE: Sasha Banks giving a fake retirement speech months after Daniel Bryan was legitimately forced to retire after ongoing concussion issues.

ANALYSIS: Had this been done at a different time, it might have been compared to the excellent trolling job Mark Henry did when he gave his fake retirement speech in 2013. Daniel Bryan’s legitimate retirement was still fresh in the audience’s minds. There wasn’t a dry eye in that whole room. Sasha Banks also had her adoring fans in tears. And then Dana Brooke came out to attack her only for Sasha to miraculously recover from her knee injury and fight Dana off. Bad timing. Bad, bad timing. Horrible timing!

NINTH PLACE: Rizin MMA booking Kazushi Sakuraba in fights.

ANALYSIS: Once again, MMA organizations have to be told not to book super old people in fighting competitions. This is the third item on the list to be guilty of mistreating elderly cage fighters. Sure, these fighters need paychecks, but come on, really? There’s nothing else these poor people can do? Nothing at all? No commentating? No producing? No booking? What the fuck, Japan?

Nine items on this list, nine reasons for your eyes to bulge from your head, nine reasons for you to scream, “That’s fucked up!” Come on, you know you want to. Humor me. I’m Garrison Kelly and I’ll see you soon!

***DEMON AXE: EPILOGUE***

It finally happened, ladies and gentlemen: ding, dong, Roger Zee is dead. His head exploded because he couldn’t handle the magic of heavy metal. His own tightly wound ass did him in. Unfortunately, the 22^nd chapter ended with Daniel Mercer collapsing onstage, probably due to overexerting his rib injuries (despite wearing a flak vest for protection). Does he really want to wake up and deal with the traumatic voices in his head, especially after what Roger Zee did to him in the last few moments of the novel (if you don’t know, I’m not going to tell you). How do I write an epilogue for a guy who’s next in line to rule the elven kingdom if he’s got a busted body and a haunted mind? This is going to take some J.K. Rowling-level toughness on Daniel’s part, and lots of it.

***WRESTLING DIALOGUE OF THE DAY***

SHEAMUS: You’ll get your chance to fight me at TLC. And brother, you’d better step up.

ROMAN REIGNS: You see, that’s the thing, Sheamus. You’re still just talking. You’re still just yapping. Yap, yap, yap. I thought Irishmen had potatoes. Turns out you’re just smuggling some tater tots.

YOU TUBER: Oh my god! Oh my god! “I thought Irishmen had potatoes! I thought Asian people had rice! I thought black people had fried chicken!” What the fuck?! Tater tots?! That’s the stupidest fucking shit I’ve ever heard in my life! And here I thought it couldn’t get any worse than “sufferin’ succotash”! “Sufferin’ fuckin’ succotash” to “tater tots”! Wow! Do they fucking hate Samoans in the WWE?!

Demon Axe, Chapter 22

Roger stabbed his machete into the ground at the sight of various vehicles pulling up to the bottom of the mountain. Police cruisers and SWAT vans, pickup trucks and SUV’s, and finally an eighteen-wheeler parked sideway in the far back to make plenty of room. What it was making room for, Roger didn’t know. All he knew is that these people were worthy of his most venomous scowl with folded arms to boot.

Shawn and Raven on the other hand looked down at the multi-car scene with a mixture of confusion and relief. Was this some kind of cavalry or were these people going to be more innocent victims of Roger’s mad slashing? Arthur didn’t seem too worried about it judging from the grin on his elderly face and the words, “I told you my new friends would come,” to his nemesis.

And sure enough they did. Cops got out of their cruisers, pro-wrestlers wearing their gear got out of their gas-guzzling vehicles, and heavy metal fans with Demon Axe T-shirts joined their newfound brethren in the open space between the semi and the other cars. Once they all assembled with their arms folded and their game faces on, the police captain tested his bullhorn like a roadie would a microphone: “Check, one, two, check.”

Roger’s look of disdain turned into a mocking grin. He even pulled his machete out of the ground to drive home his next talking point. “Is this what you call a cavalry, Arthur? I don’t see toughness from any one of these bastards! I see a bunch of walking corpses ready to get their heads chopped off!” Pointing his blade at the crowd below, he barked, “Don’t even bother drawing your pop guns, because you’ll be dead before you have the chance to use them!”

“We’re not here to arrest you, Roger Zee, no matter how much you deserve it,” said the captain through his bullhorn. “We’re not even here to pick a fight, again, no matter how much you deserve it. We’re all here for one reason: to see a goddamn heavy metal show. We bought our tickets and we’re ready to rock and fucking roll. You see these people, Roger? These are all of the people you’ve pissed off by killing off their friends and family for political bullshit. Did you think these rasslers were going to forget that you murdered Johnny Vega and Sonia Marquez? Did you think these men and women in uniform were going to forget that you turned a respectable police department into a slaughterhouse? Did you think these metal heads in Demon Axe shirts were going to forget what you’ve put the Lord of the Pit through? Hell no! And yet, all we want to do is listen to some goddamn rock and roll! You know, the kind of music that gets us through our day with our sanity intact.”

The captain turned his head and nodded at the driver of the semi, who flipped a switch inside the cab and raised the side compartment like a garage door. Roger’s eyes nearly popped out of his head as he saw what the truck was delivering: an entire stage of musical equipment. A bass and electric guitar stood at opposite sides of the stage while a drum kit was nestled in the back. A microphone stand took center stage sans an actual microphone.

Slowly emerging from behind the curtain were three black robed monks with their faces hidden by their massive hoods and their ancient chants haunting the elven landscape. The monks took their positions at the bass guitar, electric guitar, and drums respectively. They stood there languidly for a moment while Roger Zee swung his machete around in the air like he was ready for combat. “More victims? Sure, why not! Thanks for saving me the trouble of having to find you assholes!”

The three monks growled like animals at Roger’s insult before removing their hoods to reveal their masked faces. Just like any member of Daniel Mercer’s band, their masks sent chills up the spines of anyone who dared mess with them. One by one they revealed themselves to their audience, machete-wielding and otherwise.

The tiger-masked drummer said in an Arabian accent, “I am Tiger Man. I was once part of a metal band called I Am Death before you took our guitarist away from us, Roger. He was a brother to us. He represented everything that was right with both our religion and our music. You stole him from us, you sadistic piece of shit!”

The skull-masked bass player, also using an Arabian accent, pointed his elongated finger at Roger and said, “I am Bone Warrior. I too was a member of I Am Death. Everything Tiger Man just said is Allah’s honest truth, right down to the moment where he called you a sadistic piece of shit. I have a whole list of disgusting insults I’d like to use right now to describe you, Roger, but instead I’d rather play the bass and get this show on the road.”

And then there was the zombie-masked guitarist with demon horns and a Santa hat who said, “I am Snowball. I am the last surviving member of the LGBT metal band Juice. Roger, there’s nothing I’d love more than to wrap these guitar strings around your neck and take every last ounce of oxygen from that pathetic body of yours. But that’s not what guitar strings are for. They’re for playing badass music with badass people. Daniel, get your butt down here so that we can get this show started!”

Roger mockingly chuckled at Snowball and said, “I’m sorry, did you say you wanted Daniel to get his butt down there? I’m afraid he can’t do that right now. Let’s just say I did to him what you LGBT motherfuckers do to men’s asses on a daily basis. Besides, he can’t sing to you right now because his ribs look like a fucking jigsaw puzzle. Look at him! He’s easily-triggered! He’s pathetic! He’s a snowflake, Snowball!”

Slowly stirring from his traumatized state, Daniel pulled his shorts up, spit out blood on the side of the mountain, and clutched his broken ribs while making it to his feet. He stared fire and poison through Roger’s goofy gaze before snatching his rightfully owned microphone out of the zealot’s hands. Daniel leaned his face close to Roger’s and said, “I’m not your victim anymore!”

With mind-blowing pain in every step, the Lord of the Pit dragged his feet down the side of the Holy Mountains with Shawn, Raven, and Arthur stabilizing him along the way. Raven whispered in her boyfriend’s ear, “You can do this, Daniel. You’re not a victim anymore. You’re our next king.”

Feigning concern with more goofy facial expressions, Roger said, “Oh, look at you, Daniel. Are you having a little bit of trouble getting down the mountain? Here, let me give you a boost!” The elf zealot planted the toe of his steel boot into Daniel’s butt cheek and sent him rolling down to the bottom of the mountain in a crumpled heap.

“You fucking bastard!” Shawn bellowed. “I ought to blow your face off right fucking now!” The detective raised his shotgun with his trigger finger itching for some blood.

Raven lowered the barrel while screaming, “No, don’t! You’ve seen what Roger can do with that blade! This is not the way we’re ending this!”

“He killed my wife and daughter! He deserves to have his head blown the fuck right off!” shouted Shawn.

“Listen to reason, Detective Henry,” said the police captain through his bullhorn. “You’re one of the best cops we have on the force. Don’t throw away everything you’ve worked for. Come on down here and mosh with us. It’s a rock concert, damn it!”

Shawn gazed at his police brethren and back at Roger while contemplating the voice of reason’s talking points. As much as he wanted to blow the terrorist’s head off with a well-placed shotgun shell, his wisdom dictated that getting murdered himself wouldn’t do a damn thing for his family. He stood there for a while with fists clenched and his trigger finger pulsating with rage. He finally dropped his shotgun and allowed Raven and Arthur to take him by the hands down the side of the mountain.

“You made the right call, Shawn,” said Roger. “Not that it really matters since I’m going to turn this so-called concert into a battlefield of dead bodies, not unlike the one I left behind back at the elven city.”

The threesome ignored Roger’s immature insults and knelt down to help Daniel to his feet. The Lord of the Pit groaned and whined as he struggled with his equilibrium. His ribs felt like he just ate a Halloween apple full of razorblades and spikes, yet he brushed his friends away and said, “It’s okay, guys. I got this. Trust me.”

Shawn, Raven, and Arthur joined the mosh pit congregation while trusting Daniel to gingerly make his way to one of SWAT team members. He spit out more blood and said, “Give me a goddamn flak vest. Now!”

“A flak vest? You really think that’s going to help you get through an entire set? I’d say you’re delusional, but you probably already know that from being an easily-triggered snowflake,” laughed Roger.

Daniel no-sold the insult as he strapped the flak vest around his ribs and limped his way to the makeshift stage. Snowball and Bone Warrior reached down and gently pulled Daniel up to his microphone stand, where he placed the axe-decorated piece of equipment into its rightful slot. Roger clapped like a little child and mockingly cheered Daniel as he made it to the stage.

“Keep clapping, buddy!” said Snowball. “But before you think you’ve won anything, check this shit out!” The demonic Christmas enthusiast picked up his guitar and flipped it around to reveal it had the same magical runes as Daniel’s microphone. Roger’s eyes bulged out of their sockets in horror as Bone Warrior revealed the same thing with his bass guitar and Tiger Man did so with his drum sticks.

“No…No…NO!” shouted Roger as he clutched his head in while rocking up and down.

“in the same way that Daniel’s microphone carries the lost souls of Pig Man, Vulture Man, and G-Pac,” explained Arthur, “These newly christened members of Demon Axe had their instruments imbued as well. The game is up, Roger. It’s over!”

After whining angrily through gritted teeth, Roger pulled his machete out of the ground and roared, “Nothing is over until I say it’s over! My reign as king will last forever and you sons of bitches are fucking dead! Do you hear me?! DEAD!” The zealot charged down the hill twirling his blade ready for yet another terrorist massacre.

Without regard for his battered ribs, Daniel screamed into the microphone, “One, two, three, four!” Just when Roger had entered the mosh pit and he was ready to bring his blade down on his first victim, he was sent flying backwards by the sound waves of “Fucking Hostile” by Pantera.

For the first time in a long time, everyone appeared to be having a good time. They didn’t have to worry about death and politics like a constant case of anxiety. They didn’t have to listen to their traumatic voices tell them what to do. They didn’t even have to pay their overdue bills until it was all over. It was just a mosh pit full of angry motherfuckers shoving each other and getting down to the classic Pantera sound as presented by Demon Axe. Even Raven, Shawn, and Arthur got in on the aggressive fun, bouncing off everybody in sight and getting tossed around like sacks of potatoes themselves.

The sound waves continued to assault Roger’s mind while his traumatic ghosts haunted him with the loudest voices. Every innocent he has ever killed, every living being who despised him in the present, they all gave this scumbag terrorist the brain fuck of the century. Roger clutched his ears and pounded his head against the ground until he couldn’t take it anymore. By the time “Fucking Hostile” came to a close, his head exploded like a hand grenade and got pieces of brain and skull all over the audience. This wasn’t traumatic violence. This was putting the death in death metal.

The audience roared like lions in a cage and chanted Demon Axe’s name, giving the performers onstage a reason to bow. Daniel, on the other hand, bowed for a much different reason. Even with the flak vest stabilizing his ribs, he clutched his chest and fell to the ground unconscious. His newfound band mates rushed to his aide while Raven fought her way through the crowd to try to do the same. “Daniel, no! Don’t die on me!” she shouted.

No matter how loud the screams were or how energetic the noise was, Daniel wouldn’t wake up from his final nightmare. He was carried offstage like a baby in Snowball’s arms while Tiger Man and Bone Warrior hung their heads following him. Raven tried to climb the stage, but the crowd swept her away and all she could do was allow tears to rain down her face like a thunderstorm of emotions. Was this the end of the elven kingdom? Had Roger Zee taken an entire world to the grave with him? Was it all too late? Worse, was it all for nothing?