Friday, October 28, 2011

Frightening Friday: Choose Your Own Terrifying Contingency Plan

Drew Barrymore is all, "I hate customer service!"

Ring ring ring...

Ring ring ring...

Ring ring ring...

Ring ring ring...


Whew! He hung up. Good thing you didn't answer that. It was a guy who was planning to tell you that you have ten days to live. He asked me to let you know that you have ten days to live. And to get voicemail. He hates not being able to leave a message.

Hey, today is...Frightening Friday! Sadly, this brings an end to another October of me chilling you to your bones in the rudest manner. But don't worry. Unless I meet my untimely demise sometime between now and October 2012, I shall be back with more terrifying tales of terrifying terror. Until then, read this and enjoy...if you dare.

Choose Your Own Terrifying Contingency Plan

It is a spooky Halloween night. You're home alone eating peanut butter cups and not sharing a single one with trick-or-treaters.

If your phone rings suddenly, startling you, go to 1A.

If you hear a spooky noise outside and decide to go investigate, go to 1B.

If you prefer nothing spooky to happen in this story because your bowels can't handle it, then go to 1C.

Ring ring ring!
Who could that be? you wonder.
You pick up the phone and say, "Hello?"
"Greetings!" says on the voice on the other end. "I am a murderer, and I am conducting a survey. Would you mind if I asked you a few questions?"

If you don't mind if the murderer asks you a few questions, go to 2A
If you quickly hang up, go to 2B.

Is that the sound ax, scythe, or other sharp tool slowly being sharpened on a rock? Better go check it out!

If you take your trusty musket, go to 3A.
If you oil up your muscles and go outside with only your fists and a lot of gumption, go to 3B.

Fine, you big baby. Just watch this. It will all be over soon.


"Not at all, Mr...Murderer, did you say it was?"
"Please, just call me Murderer," he replies, very politely. "Now, here is my first question. 'What is your favorite scary movie?'"
"Why, that's a good question. And I thank you for asking it," you say. "I would have to say..."

If you say, "Friday the 13th," go to 4A.
If you say, "Halloween," go to 4B.
If you say nothing at all because he has already slaughtered you, go to 4C.

"AAAAAAAAA!" you scream and quickly hang up the phone. You've seen this movie before and know how this shit will go down. First, he asks you what your favorite movie is, then, you realize he's calling from inside your house. Then, you run upstairs as quickly as you can and close yourself into an easily accessible room and cry and cry as he breaks down the door with an ax. Soon, all that's left of you is a head frozen into a permanent scream face.

If you run upstairs as quickly as you can and close yourself into an easily accessible room and cry and cry, go to 5A.

If you run to your panic room in the basement and close yourself in with a month's worth of food and other supplies, go to 5B.

You and your trusty musket head outside to investigate the strange noise. Following the spooky sound, you find yourself face to face with....George Washington! The rumors were true. Your cherry tree is in shambles.

Living out some kind of Predator fantasy? Well, you're in the wrong movie, bucko. This is fucking Terminator.

"Oh, me too!" the polite murderer gushes unabashedly. "It's my favorite! You know what, I like you. This is the funnest time I've ever had being a murderer."
"I feel the same way!" you say. "Usually murderers call my house and they are so impolite. You are a real treat, sir."
"That is a terrific compliment. I'm touched," says the murderer.
When he sneaks into your house 15 minutes later and kills you, he does it with the utmost respect for you as a person.

"Oh, me as well!" the polite murderer sputters unashamedly. "It's my number 1! You know what, I adore you. This is the most amusing time I've ever had being a slaughterer."
"I feel the same way!" you say. "Usually murderers call my house and they are so rude. You are a real jolly soul, sir."
"That is wonderful praise. I'm fondled," says the murderer.
"Did you just say you're fondled?" you query.
"Yes," says the murderer. "I looked the word 'touched' up in the thesaurus for some variety, and that was the first listing."
You immediately hang up the phone and dial 911. There is something terribly wrong with people who don't know how to use thesauruses correctly!



Really? This is the option you chose?
Okay, fine.
You look around the bathroom in which you've trapped yourself to wait for certain death. What a mess! Well, there's no time like the present to do a bit of tidying up. You've just finished scrubbing the toilet when the murderer finds you and hacks you to bits. "Will you look at the shine on that shower wall? She must use Scrubbing Bubbles!" he thinks as he stuffs your body into garbage bags.

Too bad the only food you thought to stockpile was candy corn! Mwahahahahaha!