When Garth set fire to the bus it was so he could drive it while still burning into the wing of the local hospital. It was an old wooden building. He did it because his life time enemy, Josephine, was in a bed somewhere there.
It so happened that all patients were able to walk, and very quickly they gathered at the bottom of the staircase ready to make a hasty retreat outside.
Garth was still in the bus, laughing his head off. His aim, once the building was aflame, was to dash outside and never be seen again.
As Garth alighted from the bus ready to make his dash, Patient Gwendoline tripped him up with her crutches. Patient Josephine, who had just finished reading “Fifty Shades of Grey” and whose husband, while she was in hospital, had brought her some grapes and a pair of handcuffs to cheer her up, managed to handcuff Garth as he passed and close the other end of the handcuffs over the springs of a bed on wheels.
All traipsed quickly out, except for Garth who dragged the bed behind him and got stuck in the doorway. He burned to death. His dying screams could be heard all over the suburb.
Now, children, tomorrow’s Halloween. The bed Garth burned to death in is the very bed you’re lying in. I managed to get it cheap at the secondhand place. I’m going to turn the light out and you’re all to get a good night’s sleep. We don’t want kiddies yawning their way through trick or treating tomorrow do we?
This is brutal. “Fifty shades of grey” of all books used in some constructive (albeit destructive) way. The kids are going to renounce Halloween completely.
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A renunciation of Halloween by all children would be a good thing – then I could have all the chocolate myself!
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They may renounce sleep also.
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That’s what babysitters are for – and nannies!
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I am awed by your fifty shades of humour! You have shredded apart the wicked madness of writing Halloween posts and the wickeder prurience of Josephine in a singular, devastating stroke.
PS: Incidentally, I too had started writing a preternatural piece but quit it halfway. I am happy I shelved the project —there is no way I could have withstood the tsunami you have let loose!
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Wickeder is an even more excellenter word than prurience (being innocent, I had to look it up!). You shouldn’t stand still in a tsunami. Run! Run!
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I am not looking back! (It’s never a good idea when a woman with grapes and a pair of handcuffs is at large…)
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That reminds me – The other day I wanted to type out “I am a terrible worrier” and the autocorrect kept changing it to “I am a terrible womaniser” !
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They say Autocorrect keeps learning from the individual users…
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That says a lot about humanity.
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I love the juxtaposition of grapes and a pair of handcuffs as a gift for a loved one in the hospital.
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Personally I’d go for the grapes!
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The Trick of Treats
Cynthia Jobin
Beware the trick of treats, my little one,
of sugary ideals, of endless halcyon
as you go forth this hallowed eventide
your begging pleasure bag held open wide
go not oblivious, bewitched into oblivion.
Candy corn spits from a saw-toothed gun
marshmallow ghosts devour a skeleton
behind your mask’s deceit remain clear-eyed:
beware the trick of treats.
This world’s a mixing bowl of bleak and fun
of up and down, of swapping rain and sun
two one-eyed tadpoles circling inside
give a close chase that’s never satisfied
and bitters dwell with sweets, my little one,
beware the trick of treats.
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I remember this poem well! Thanks for the timely reminder.
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How lovely to have a reminder of Cynthia.
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I think I’ll sleep on the sofa
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!!
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Have to inspect my bed closely.
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A good idea!
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