When Hell is Full

 Turner hid in the shadows and took it all in. He remembered the times before things got so far out of hand. He thought about when the people were actually people, and there were so many more of them. When his nerves could take no more, he slid back deeper into the dark and thought. These days, he found himself doing a lot of thinking.

The screaming had stopped and he heard Them slurping away at the woman, the one who was screaming. Soon enough she'd be lumbering along right beside them, looking for other people, maybe looking for him. That is unless They were really hungry, and if that were the case... Turner didn't want to think any harder on it than that.



It used to be that They only seemed to come out when it was dark. That was when there were more people. Now, that didn't seem to matter, day or night. Now, nothing really seemed to matter. Turner used to live a good life, and he never once took that for granted. Now, being alive as Turner was, would have to be good enough.



He tried to think about how this whole mess began. It was impossible to say who lit that first fire... because it was burning long before he was born. It was burning long before his parents, and their parents were born as well. Turner guessed it came to be in simpler times. The people had questions they could not answer. They needed simple explanations to satisfy their ignorance of how everything worked. Those fantastical stories they told had to be the start of it, he mused.



He was getting hungry, and thinking it was time to get back so he could prepare something to eat. Turner knew that if you didn't draw attention to yourself, and did not get too close, you were usually safe. With that thought he shook his head. No, I don't know... this is just how it appears. Still he felt fairly confident in this assumption.



Turner had been a shut-in his whole life. He felt socially awkward around people. He did not do well in crowds. He did not like being the center of attention, and he always kept to himself. The irony of him needing to leave the safety of his home now, after the shit had truly hit the fan put a smile on his face. He just couldn't stand being cooped up there like that.  He crept out of the shadows, and trying to be inconspicuous he headed for home.



They were on both sides of the sidewalk, so he walked down the middle of the road. None of them were on the street. It was like part of their brain remembered the way things used to be. Only now there were no cars crowding out the streets... none that were moving anyways. On the way he thought more about how this mess just might have started.



They had their stories, explanations which were spun out of thin air. Something to appease themselves, and satisfy their curiosities. Time moved on and necessities arose. People began asking questions, and the spook stories began.



He ate in silence. He basically did everything in silence. This was no different than the times before the infections. He wondered if there were any more like him. The woman earlier was the first he had seen in a long time. If he saw her again, walking, he'd know if she was one of them...one of the believers.



The spook stories kept people in line. Insubordinate behavior  promised great suffering in life and death. For a long time this was enough.



Turner thought of his parents, and for once was glad they were long gone. Like himself, neither were believers. However, he was glad none the less they were spared these harsh times. He thought how it would of killed his mother, and smiled wryly at his pun.



This wasn't like any movie he had seen. They never truly died, they just got infected and became. It spread like wild fire among the believers. He spoke softly to himself, "You did this...to yourself."



They created a perfect human. Their inability to behave in his manner was the first real downfall. They put words into his mouth, and changed them to suit their needs. They spoke of love and practiced hate. When their hatred of any non conformists  got too much to bear, things began to sour. Then they started fighting among themselves. Turner nodded to himself. That's when this really began. It was like the bloodshed and hate made this thing gain a life of its own. Once it started living on its own terms, the believers lost control of it, and themselves.



The news barely had time to report the incidents as everything went down so fast. Whole parishes became infected and filed out to spread the word. To spread the disease. Back then...when they could still speak, they'd preach the word and hand out flyers. It seemed to Turner there were more believers than he had thought. People like him were immune.



Once it started living on its own terms, the believers lost control of it, and themselves. Then a relatively harmless scarecrow became something deadly and infectious...



Turner could not bring himself to believe he was the only sane and well person left. By now though surely all the believers had caught the disease.



They spoke of "Love Thy Neighbor", but did not practice it. They spoke of "hate the sin"...but hated the sinner as well. They spoke of an undying unconditional love which they could not give. The spoke of an End of Days, and a Hell on Earth, and they got their wish. Turner thinking aloud said, "Be careful what you believe in."



Three days later Turner was reassured he was not the last of the non believers. He saw a car which contained two women and a man. To his relief, they were like him.  Meanwhile, they spied him on the street and took him for what he was, one of them. As he climbed in the backseat he regarded Reverend Jones and his parishioners. They were shambling on the sidewalks with no one left to convert. As they took off to the others he thought to himself, it's good to be an Atheist.

Terrible Night for a Walk

 Sandra was out late, and knew she should not be.  The campus had put up a curfew after the murders began.  She was making her way back home as quickly and carefully as she could. Sandra thought she heard a sound behind her.  She held her breath and slowed her walk. It seemed all she could hear was her heart pumping away like an engine in her chest.  She stopped walking  altogether and craned her neck, in the direction of the sound. She paused for about a minute, hearing nothing, and broke back into her power walking stride.

It was not safe to be on the streets at night. Campus security and the police would be out tonight, as they had been since these killings began.  Ten days ago a girl in the same building as her was found stabbed to death just outside of the Scrounge.  She was not part of Sandra's small circle of friends, but she knew who she was.  A week ago, a girl who lived in her building was found in much the same fashion as the first.  Again not in her group of immediate friends, but they shared a class or two.  The only real common thread they shared was that the girl dated a boy Sandra had dated for awhile. Two nights ago though,  the victim was a bit more personal. Some professor Sandra did not know found the stabbed body of her old roommate Beth Parker.  They were never close, to different from one another, Sandra supposed.  They did, however, live with one another for one full year.



Sandra put the hustle on, and worked into a jog. It seemed to her she was walking on a treadmill, or that somehow an extra mile of distance had been laid before her.  She peered over her shoulder again, and trudged on.



She slowed a bit again as she thought she heard something behind her again. Cursing herself and her imagination she stopped and turned around. Her heart was in her throat. She saw nothing. Sandra was about to turn and fall back into her stride when she realized that although she did not see anything, she still heard something. It was the distinct patter of footfalls.  Carefully she began to walk backwards. The lighting was low in this area but before and behind her were bright. She would be able to see someone coming directly down the path from either way long before they could reach her. Just as she began thinking she had imagined the sound, a silhouette appeared at the head of the path.  Her back walking became awkward, as the flailing oblong shadow came in her direction. Exhausted as she was, Sandra turned and ran.



Sandra was winded but her years at track and gymnastics kept her in shape.  She did not pace herself, she was with the wind. She wanted to put as much distance in between her and the person chasing after her. It felt to Sandra that her feet were not even hitting the ground beneath her. Everything blurred past as she whizzed along. She afforded a quick glance back and saw that the shape was getting closer. It sounded like it was calling out to her. She swung her head back frontwards to put on more speed. It was just in time for her foot to hit a buckle in the pathway. She flew forward and struck the ground, skidding on her hands and knees. She winced at the sting, and slowly got back to her feet. She checked herself over, and saw both of her palms were bleeding, as was her left knee. Footfalls sounding closer, she broke back into a sprint which make her earlier running seem like a crawl. The calling out from behind  began to sound maniacal. Sandra pushed herself as hard as she could, and the shrieking from behind grew distant. She rounded a turn, and saw the cars.



There were two of them. One a police cruiser and the other was one of those jeeps the campus security guys drove. Sandra forgot about the curfew, forgot about the hassle she'd get for being out after it. She  closed in the distance between her and the law.



As she neared, both men got out of their vehicles and headed towards her.  She apologized for breaking curfew and told them about the person chasing her.  The police tore off in his cruiser in the direction she came from.  Sandra went back to the security guard's jeep with him. "Sandy, you got lucky," he explained, "Do you realize how lucky you are?" Sandra nodded. "Chrissakes Sandy, what were you doing out? If that cop knew I knew you... Chrissakes Sandy. I won't tell him, I won't tell him your name.  Why, why did you come out?" Sandy stared at her hands, and the security guard handed her some wet wipes from his dash.  "Thank you, Barney." she said tiredly. Barney went back into his rant, "You girls, Lawdy you girls. Why do you keep coming out. Sandy I got a girl almost your age at home. And and and That sick bastard... the things he does to yas.  It ain't safe, Sandy! Chrissakes, why were you out at night?"  Sandy shrugged and then shivered. Barney was about to go into his spiel again when his radio popped.

.....Barney, this  is Oakley. the person chasing that girl with you.... it was another girl...another student here... Barney he struck again.... the girl wasn't chasing that one with you... she was running herself... she found another body west side of campus...I got guys headed that way, but this young lady is a mess....the girl she found... Jesus Barn, it was her best friend...she is hysterical... I'm going to drop her off at the ER and see if they can get her calmed down...and I'll be back...over.

Barney thanked him and turned to Sandra.  "You see," he began, "Both of youse is lucky...  That guy is dangerous!" Sandy could feel the muscles in her face turning up into a grin. Barney saw the grin and found himself smiling as well, as if to say ok ok I'll lay off, just as long as you keep grinning that pretty grin at me.  When Sandra broke into a laugh it startled Barney. Thinking to himself... well, Oakley, this one is hysterical too I think.  Sandra's laughter sounded genuine and not nervous. Frowning, Barney asked, "...and What is So Funny, young lady? Don't you realize that there is a dangerous man out there killing people?" Sandra was fast. Barney didn't even see the knife , as Sandra worked it into his neck once, twice three times. Speaking to his twitching face she asked, "What ever made you think it was a man?"

Bored nearly to Death

 Bored Nearly To Death (A Modern Fairy Tale)

1.

Susanna Victoria Blevins was ten. She had everything a girl her age could ever want. She was an only child in a well to do family and her parents doted on her. The girl lacked for nothing, except for maybe imagination. She was in a constant need for entertainment. She had a wonderful room, full of all the magnificent things she asked for. Her friends loved coming over to play, for Susanna had all the latest and greatest toys. Everything they saw advertised on the television, could be found in there. Susanna had many friends, and it was not just because she had so many nice things to play with. She was a pleasant enough girl and always shared her things with others. She enjoyed her friends because they were spontaneous girls, full of ideas of things to do. Susanna appreciated this because she was prone to boredom. Boredom was something that this little girl loathed. In fact Susanna often thought that if she were ever to get too bored that it just might kill her. So she did what she could to keep her time well occupied, and tried her best to spend that time with exciting people. She knew she was not all that inventive herself, so she was thankful for the friends she had.

Summer had come, and school was out for the year. Susanna was looking forward to the long break, and all the fun she would have until she went back to school. Usually her parents and her would go away on holiday for half the summer, but this year some new things had come up. Her father would be finding himself spending a great deal of time working out of town. He and her Uncle had just started a new business, and they had a lot of work to do. He would simply be too busy for any vacations on this break. He had promised her though that next year, he and her mother would plan something spectacular. Her mother would be taking it easy. Last month she had found out she was pregnant again, and that early the following year Susanna would have a new brother or sister. This is excited her, because once the baby was old enough, they could be playmates. Susanna's grandmother would be coming to stay for awhile while her dad was away working.

Susanna woke a few days earlier feeling morose. All of her close friends were off other places, vacationing with their families, or away at camp. Not one of them was home, and would not be until the following month. Her grandmother had come to help out, but she was no fun. She was always so busy with mother, and had no time for her. Every time Susanna asked her to play with her, she shooed her away. The weeks passed much in this way. One morning Susanna came downstairs to find her mother sitting with an old friend of hers called Beverly. Beverly had known her mother since they were girls like herself, and was staying the day and night to visit with her. Susanna asked her grandmother if she could maybe take her out that day. Perhaps the zoo, or maybe a museum. If Beverly were at the house, grandmother wouldn't have to stay all day if mother needed anything. They could both have a break out of the house, and spend the day together. Susanna thought this sounded sensible enough, and the fact she'd had such an idea made her proud. Her idea didn't seem to inspire her grandmother who told her she couldn't leave her mother with Beverly. Susanna began to protest and her grandmother simply sent her upstairs to her room. Susanna was about to push the issue, but the look in her grandmother's eye made her think she'd had just better retire it.

Susanna sat on her bed glumly. She scanned all of her wonderful toys, but they did not seem so wonderful now. She went to the window to look out and eye the streets. Everyone was away, and there was not a child in the street. She didn't hear their laughter, or chatter singing in through the windows. She turned to her bedroom feeling more bored now than ever. So bored in fact, that she almost did not see the little man in her room.

To call this creature a man was not quite right. You couldn't exactly call him frightening, but she did find him unnerving. Surely this could be no man, her father was so tall, and this person was not. He was no taller than she, if that at all. She wondered to herself if it was a boy. She was not yet fond of boys and found them mostly loud and disruptive. Any port in a storm would do, and now she was feeling more bored than ever. She looked again at her visitor. He was definitely male, but this was neither boy nor man. His skin appeared to be as white as paper, and his eyes as black as ink. He had no hair on his face, but Susanna was almost sure he was a man. Old enough to be a man anyway, that is if this thing were a human. The word which came to her mind was troll. Susanna dismissed this because the  visitor did not look ugly enough to be a troll. She found him to be strange, but not particularly ugly. Longish greasy hair spilled around his thin face, beady eyes sat on top of a pointed nose. She stared wondering if he was real. He was moving, but it seemed as if he was moving in slow motion. The idea of moving so slowly bored her even more still, and she sighed deeply. Susanna couldn't recall ever being this bored in her entire life. It felt like the boredom was almost mounting on her like sleep when she laid down to bed. She shook her head, sighed again and turned her attention back to the little man again.

Her last sigh seemed to have an animating effect on the little man. Like a windup toy in reverse she thought, as the man's fluidic movements became more normal looking. Soon his creeping became a walk, and he was standing right before her. Susanna considered his appearance now that he was closer and found he did indeed look more or less human, although less human than she first thought. His arms were longer than they should have been and his hands ended in long sharp finger nails. His eyes which looked black from afar seemed to be the color of cherries, and were they flickering just a bit? Like the end of her father's cigars? Yes, she thought they just might be. He favored her with a slight grin. Which did not look menacing, though it also did not appear to be overly welcoming either. Suddenly, Susanna felt none of this could be real. She had fallen asleep after coming upstairs. Surely now she was merely dreaming this odd man. The whole idea of napping this early in the day bored her so much, that she sighed another time. The strange man leaned in closer and seemed to breathe in her sigh. His skin almost got a glow to it. His face brightened a bit, and his rugged little mouth turned up into a smile. As he favored her with his impossibly white teeth, Susanna thought he looked almost human. For that moment she thought he almost looked beautiful.

2.

Susanna sat transfixed as the little man stared at her. His eyes danced in merriment. His mouth locked in that beautiful grin. Color blossomed into his face and hands. He stood steadfast, in front of her, barely moving. It occurred to her that she had not spoken to her visitor during this whole exchange. She tried to grasp her mind for the exact words she wanted to say. The question to get the answer she was seeking, when she heard a noise. Someone was knocking at her door. The little man threw his head towards the door with a look of sheer annoyance. Susanna followed his gaze. The knock sounded again, and her mind focused on it. The door, my door, someone is at my door. "Hello, yes?", she called out. "Susanna dear," her grandmother answered slightly annoyed, "were you sleeping? Come down and have some lunch." Her grandmother opened the door and peeked in. Susanna looked to where the little man had been standing, but he was gone! "Coming Grammy." she said as she got out of bed and headed toward the door.

Susanna might have lacked in imagination, but she had a decent idea of how the world worked for ten year old little girls. So she did not bring up the little man. She was pretty certain her grandmother would not believe her, and if she persisted might make her angry again. Besides, she wasn't even sure that she didn't dream the whole thing! Her grandmother did say she had been knocking at her door for a few minutes before she responded. So that did make sense, she had just been so tired, she hadn't even realized it. She enjoyed her lunch, and spoke with her grandmother about other things. After lunch she went to her mother's room to give her a kiss and talk a bit. When her mother decided she wanted to nap. Susanna went outside. She had forgotten all about the little man.

Outside was exactly like she thought it would be. It was a pleasant enough day. The sun was shining bright, and there was a nice breeze to keep things comfortable. The streets though, were empty of children. The only people out were older, and they were all busy. Susanna came to realize she was still bored. She walked around looking for something to do, someone to play with until she could walk no more. Feeling now both tired and incredibly bored she walked back home. As she reached the front door, she heard the television in the front room. Her Grammy was in there, watching what she called her stories. Susanna recognized the theme song. Grammy loved her stories, but Susanna found them hopelessly boring. When things happened that she did not understand she would try to ask Grammy to explain, and she would just shush her. Susanna thought better and went around to the back door. She quietly crept in. Unbuckled her shoes, and snuck up the stairs to her bedroom.

She headed directly for her bed, dropped her shoes in front of it, and sat down. The feeling of boredom was ever stronger now. She sighed slowly and deeply, and a feeling of familiarity over came her. Laying back looking at the ceiling, she saw something in her peripheral vision. She jerked to the side, and saw the little man again. She opened her mouth to speak and the little man held a finger to his mouth. He shook his head no, and tapped his head. She opened her mouth to speak again and he tutted a finger at her. Again he tapped his head, louder this time. She heard the tap in the dullness of her room. Susanna stared at her visitor in a daze. The little man must of sensed her confusion. He shut his bright eyes in a blink. Susanna heard very clearly in her head, "You can talk to me in your head, little girl." He smiled. "If you speak out loud someone will hear, Susanna." he continued, "If they hear, then they will come. If they come, I must go." Susanna lay fixed and only nodded. The little man's smile broadened.

Susanna's eyes went from her room to the man. From her toys to the man. her room looked dull and drab. Like something had stolen the colors from it. The toys too, were faded. The little man was now full of color, his cheeks rosey. His eyes as blue as the sky, just like hers. She shuddered, and sighed again. The man moved in close and again breathed in her sigh. He savored it like the smells from something good to eat, and his smiled widened more. Susanna sat up in front of the little man. In the back of her mind she noticed they were almost the same size. She could of sworn the last time he was shorter than she, wasn't he? Was there a last time, surely she remembered him from some other time. She wondered if there was, and who he might be, and she was about to ask him. He reached out and put a finger to her lips. The finger was soft, and smooth, his nails rounded . His voice was again in her mind. "Use your mind, silly girl. Do you want me to have to go again?" She shook her head, and he smiled. "Gooooood," he thought at her, "I like it here, I like it here with you... and I won't go, as long as They don't come back." He jerked his head toward the door and then pointed downstairs. Susanna noticed his hair as it flew in the direction of her doorway. It looked soft and shiny, it was reddish-blonde and pretty. Just like hers. She reached out to touch it, and he stopped her. Bored, she sighed again. The little man once again appeared to savor it. Susanna thought to herself, Like it was something good to eat. The little man smiled, and nodded. His thought was clear in her head, "Yes, that's right... like it was good to eat." He threw her a wink.

He looked towards the door again, a look of annoyance on his face. "She's back," he thought at her, "...and I must go." Susanna pouted, and the little man leaned in and kissed her forehead. His lips were soft and warm, and he whispered aloud, "But I'll be back." He smiled and thought at her, "Now answer her." Susanna shook a bit and heard her grandmother ask, "Susanna, are you in there?" She answered back, "Yes Grammy." Her grandmother replied, "Well wash up, and come down for dinner." Susanna said again, "Yes, Grammy." Dinner! Had she really been up here for that long. It didn't even seem like an hour had passed, but if it was time for dinner it must have been at least five. Susanna washed up, and went down to the dining room.

3.

Susanna sat at the table and did little more than push her food from one side of the plate to the other. Grammy noticed this and asked her if she wasn't feeling well. Susanna sighed, and shook her head no. Grammy commented on how pale she looked and suggested she at least try to eat a little. Susanna agreed and did her best to clean the plate. When most of her dinner was gone she asked if she could be excused. Her grandmother nodded worriedly, kissed her head, and said, "Maybe you should just go back up and rest again." Susanna nodded and solemnly trotted up the stairs. She felt a gladness when she got into her room, although she could not say why. She shut the door, and sat on her bed sighing.

A noise near her closet aroused her attention. The door came open, and the little man stepped out. Susanna thought he looked prettier than ever. His smooth skin was perfect, his color beautiful. His flaxen hair fell over his back and shoulders. He held his finger in the shushing gesture over his mouth and he walked towards her. Susanna smiled wanly and nodded. She remembered this time. She remembered this man now, and how she was not to speak to him. She thought, "You came back! You said you would come back and you did!" The man nodded and shrugged his shoulders as if to say, Well, what did you expect.  She thought, "Who are you? What is your name? Where are you from?" Spitting out questions to him. The little man held up his hands, fingers spread. Stop, stop. He thought to her, "Slow down, child. One at a time." The little man smiled and continued, " Oh, I suppose I am nobody. I have no name. I come from a different sort of place than this." Susanna frowned, "No name?" She found this prospect rather boring and she sighed to affirm this. The little man turned his full pouty lips into a grin, laid his head back, flared the nostrils of his dainty nose, and drew the air towards them. Susanna thought to him, "Is it a good place that you are from?"  Without a moments hesitation the little man replied, "Oh Yes my dear, it's a good place. It's the best place." he smiled, but part of Susanna thought it was a lying smile. Though she forgot this as the man began to speak again.

He continued, "But... I like it better here."  Susanna stared at the little man in disbelief. Surely he was joking around with him, as grownups sometimes did. How could someone from such a wonderful place find this boring old room a better place to be. She protested, "You must be kidding me, this place is so dreadfully boring." Once again sighing for effect. The little man as usual looking in ecstasy, as if he were savoring the aroma of his favorite food. For the second time he spoke aloud, "Favorite food," he agreed. Susanna noted the songish tone to his voice. Had she missed how beautiful he sounded? Had she heard him speak before.  The little man assured her he was not joking. He liked this place just fine, and he did not find it the least bit boring. He explained, "Boredom, Susanna... is a dangerous thing. It attracts... certain unsavory individuals. It's best to enjoy who you are, where you are, and make the most of it. Lest you be sorry later." Susanna listened to this as best as she could, but it made no sense. This she found to be incredibly boring. She thought she might inquire as to what her little visitor might mean, but she feared his answer would only be all the more boring. She yawned and noted the light outside her window was gone. It was night already. The little man said, "It's late Susanna, perhaps... you should go to bed now." She stood up to protest and found herself looking eye to eye with the little man. He smiled and assured her, "Don't worry, don't worry... I'll be here when you wake up." Susanna got back in bed, and fought closing her eyes. In the end, she lost the battle.

Susanna's sleep was poor, and full of horrible and strange dreams. In the nightmare, she was in her room, and she went downstairs to get something to snack on. Her Grandmother was in the kitchen, "Susanna, is that you..." she began. Susanna was about to answer when her Grammy turned to look at her. She heaved the pile of dishes she was holding, and began to scream. Susanna stared puzzled and hurt as her grandmother ran out of the room. What had gotten into her? She could of injured me throwing those dishes, or herself running around like a crazy woman that way. She caught her reflection in the shiny metal on the stove, and leaned in confused. The face staring back at her, while familiar, was not hers. The sound of a doorknob opening jarred her awake.

She lay in bed a moment frightened, just a dream she thought. Her eyes them went to the sound of the doorknob. Her closet stood open, and the little man stood in front of it. His back to hers. She was about to ask him what he was doing, but remembered what he told her about talking out loud when he was around. Then she was about to think something, but she could not think of a thing to say. She regarded him from bed thinking maybe if she watched her question would be answered. The little man was sliding hangers from the right side of the closet to the left, and muttering in a low voice. He pulled his plain shirt over his head and aimlessly tossed it at a wall. The shirt hit the wall, and poofed into a puff of smoke. Susanna gasped and wiped at her eyes. The little man pulled out one of her blouses, slipped his arms in, and began buttoning it up. Susanna very quietly giggled into her fist, because it seemed exactly what a little girl would do seeing such a thing. She felt no humor in this though, and she cut herself off. She didn't feel the least bit girly this morning anyway. He then pulled out one of her skirts, pulling it up over his pants and fastened it. He then yanked the pants off from underneath and let them drop to her carpet. The pants like the shirt dissolved into nothing once they touched the floor. Then the little man turned to her.

The first thing Susanna thought when the little man turned around was that he was beautiful. Surely she had thought this before, she must have. Then she thought it was hardly proper to call her visitor a little man, when it was perfectly clear he was a little girl. Just like her. The little girl spoke to Susanna in a sing-songy voice. Her voice. "I told you I liked this place," she said. The little girl smiled and it lit up her face. Her Face. "I'm going to stay here," the little girl continued, "and I have a name... now. My name is Susanna." The little girl giggled, as Susanna began to fade. The little girl then reached down beside the bed and picked up Susanna's shoes. She sat in a chair and buckled them on her feet. Her Feet. The last thing to go through Susanna's mind was something the little man said to her, Boredom, Susanna... is a dangerous thing. It attracts... certain unsavory individuals. It's best to enjoy who you are, where you are, and make the most of it. Lest you be sorry later. Susanna didn't know what unsavory individuals meant, but she had a pretty good idea now. I Am sorry, she thought as she grew more dim.

Grammy was at the door calling out that breakfast was ready. Susanna answered almost singing, "Coming Grammy." Before she went down she paused a moment and looked back, the girl in her bed was gone. At breakfast Grammy remarked at how much better Susanna looked today. "I suppose all of that resting did you well, young lady." she said smiling at her grand daughter. Susanna stood smiling sweetly, " Oh yes Grammy," she said as she leaned in to kiss her, "I feel like a brand new girl!"

LOLOL

A bit of Spoken Word from Mister Mojo

Okay so it is pretty much what it says it is... Homemade video using stock footage from an old PSA. The routine is an old crowd favorite of mine entitled satan Drove The Shortbus, I rode Shotgun. Not to be confused with my song of the same name. Was taken from a show from awhile back... enjoy...or not...or both!

Weirdest Film I have Ever seen.

Rubber Johnny, a film by Chris Cunningham, and featuring music by Aphex Twin.

Stevie Washington...The Angry Youth

Another one for the Back in the Day department. This was my shit back when MTV was still on the map. How many of you sucka remember this? Yes or no, check this out, enjoy that shit....