Thursday, July 10, 2014

Excerpts from the Hillsdale Paranormal Society's Log

Boo, a spooky house, I'm scared--not! This is just where Trent lives.

July tenth, 11:00 p.m., at our base of operations
So we're down at the Howard house, chilling by the fire pit, having ourselves a beer or twelve, Trent, Art, and me, when Art's deadbeat brother Gary comes down and starts yelling at us for drinking all of his beer (fuck, Gary, you didn't buy any of this shit), and it's pretty fucking clear that he's been drinking and trying to pick up some hood rat that don't mind all the shit in his face (he's got like safety pens and studs coming out of his eyebrows).  He's calling us "swagglers," and I don't got any idea what the hell that means, but Gary's oozing drool out of the sides of his mouth, and his words are so slurred that he sounds like he got creamed in the jaw, which very well might have happened. Now we got our stereo busting out the sweet jams of Mary-Mark and the Funky bunch, and Gary goes over there and says "Fuck this shit," and he fucking karate kicks Art's stereo into the fire. We're all looking at him now, giving him the "this shit's serious," stare, and he's all like "come at me, bros," and we're at a loss as to what to do, considering this is Art's brother and a sometimes solid dude, but he's got a real drinking problem and someone should probably kick the shit out of his stupid heavy metal face. Trent, that silent, pale motherfucker, suddenly says in his quiet voice "You're a douchebag," and that is the bullet that starts the proverbial war, so to speak. Gary picks up his bottle of Jack and throws it through the fire and hits Trent right on the forehead, the bottle making this "smack!" sound, and Trent falls over backwards like he's been shot. Art and myself are both on Gary now, holding his skinny ass down, which is much harder than you'd think, considering Gary probably weighs like one-hundred and thirty pounds, but the fucker's strong like Gollum, and he throws us off of him and rolls into the fire, which is fucking hilarious. He jumps up, covered in flames, and we're like "Serves you right, bro," and he's screaming and thrashing his arms around, and Dwight says "Stop, drop, and roll, dumb ass," but instead of doing that, he starts taking off his clothes, and pretty soon he's naked as hell, still running around like he's on fire. Gary takes off into the woods, screaming at the top of his lungs, and we're just kinda like "Fuck, what the hell just happened?" We go over to Trent to see if that alabaster motherfucker is still breathing, and he looks up at us and says "Gary is possessed," and suddenly, it all clicks. Art, of course, disagrees with us; he says Gary's just a crazy, depressed asshole, but I shake my head and tell the boys to get our gear. "We got ourselves an exorcism to perform, bros," I say. Art looks really fucking scared for some reason.

I'm gonna funk you up!
12:00 p.m., in the goddamn woods
So we start scouring the earth for this motherfucker, and we can still hear him screaming his lungs off somewhere in the distance. "Just let him pass out in the woods, and he'll wake up in the morning covered in ticks," says Art, but we got a duty as a society to help the possessed, so we continue onward, following the screams. The woods around here is haunted as hell, full of displaced spirits and werewolves and crap, and a dude's gotta watch his back, as well as his flashlight usage. Like on cue, we hear a howl that just about causes Trent to piss his pants. "What was that?" he murmurs, like a jabroni. "A freaking werewolf," I tell him, grabbing my paintball gun from my backpack. "What the fuck would that do against a werewolf?" asks Art, and I tell him that I bought special paintballs that are full of holy paint, or at least that's what the web site claimed, and that shit is always true. "What the fuck is holy paint?" and I just have to shake my head, my crew can be such a pair of dunces. "Obviously, holy paint has been blessed by a priest, and that shit'll kill the forces of darkness," I tell him. He just shakes his head and starts complaining about the woods, 'cause he wore his good shoes out here and he's getting them all muddy and shit.
1:00 p.m., in front of a spooky house
After about an hour prancing in the woods with the dumbfuck twins, I get to this big ass abandoned house in the middle of the woods, which is pretty peculiar, I'd say. Something big jumps off the roof and Trent yells "It's a vampire!" but I shine my flashlight on it and it's just a turkey vulture. At that exact minute, a moaning comes from the house, kinda sounding like two witches getting it on lesbo-style. We approach as stealthily as we can, my paintball gun ready, and after I count to three we shine the light though the window, and what do you know, it's Gary in there, buck-ass naked, one hand on his eyes, the other pounding away at his meat like it's about to fall off. I let loose with paintball gun fire, and the motherfucker starts screaming, and he's running from the house yelling about being on fire, and we're all bent over from laughing at that shit, and I kid you not, he runs directly into a tree, which knocks him on his ass right into a patch of stinging nettle. We chase him back to the Howard house, telling him he needs to be exorcised, but then Art's Grandma comes out, and she's all pissed, and she wants to know why Gary's naked and we really don't have a good explanation for her. So we never get to perform our exorcism, and Gary's still possessed, or at least really hung over, not sure which. Just another day at the office for the Hillsdale Paranormal Society.

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