A little more bloggy than usual today-instead of presenting some comic tale of old or posters of peril, this is a new-and true-tale of Halloween at the Z house. My son is three years old and he is not a fan of the spooky side of the beloved OOKY holiday. My daughter will run around with a skeleton and applaud any ghost we bump across in our daily walkabout. So, here is the tale of DahDeeZee The Exorcist and his little apprentice THE BABY EXORSISTER. Have no fear, I’ll be returning to my good old Mangled Media Reviews tomorrow…but I couldn’t resist sharing this, a mail I penned to my wife while making lunch.
Once there was a young boy who was looking for a costume for Halloween. He had, to this point, not enjoyed the ghoulish ghastly goofy side of his father-a man fascinated by the rubbery beasts of October. But the man held out hope for his little boy. While he loved him if he only wore a little fireman raincoat he used as a costume the previous year, the father was stressed about the pre-school costume parade. While many things are more frightening than a group of 3 year olds dressed as ghosts, his little boys happiness was always first.
The pair ventured out into the world and found a “Halloween” shop in a lonely strip mall one bright Saturday afternoon.
The man was in awe. He wandered the aisles marveling at Zombies that seemed to pop straight out of Bianchi’s Burial Ground! He gasped at the detail in the CHILD sized costumes depicting THE SHAPE from Halloween with a bloody knife-and felt assured that his son, who was squeezing his hand, was probably going to pick something a little more mellow.
The little boy lept into his father’s arms as he loved to do, but could only whisper a little phrase.
“I want to go home.”
The father felt an instant and overwhelming shame, his desire to be a happy Halloween Houngan clouded his judgement. The pair wandered out into the sunlit afternoon, and after a moment the jokes were flying about the crazy parrot, the silly Spider-Man muscles and that cool Happy Hulk outfit.
Night fell… and the little boy needed his father once more. Fear found the lad and had taken over his midnight sleeptime. After an hour or so all was well. The next night the horrors became worse. Titanic Terrors drove a happy go lucky boy to desire nothing but escape from his own domain! This would not stand for the father…
At last the man had found a way… the mangled media blog had shown him the way. His own bizarre obsessions and interests could apply to this trouble. Joseph Nazel and THE BLACK EXORCIST would solve this parental quandry. Who would have thought such a thing possible?
The man donned his dark sweatshirt and led the boy to the apparently screaming skeleton infested room, assisted by the tiny Baby Exorsister and used several enchanted plastic bags to sweep the room. He first captured the skeletons! Then, he chased each and every bad feeling and the remaining echoes of any present demonic screeching into another bag.
The boy looked inside and said goodbye to them… he smiled as only he could. At last, the trio stood, master of all that was frightening and kept the little one awake. But complete mastery required…THE ULTIMATE EXORCISM.
Packing the now full bags of horror (alright, the man swooshed the bags around and tied them off in little airpillows, but it worked-Terrifying TombEditor), they hopped in to the car and drove back to that lonely strip mall. As they drove, the little boy could talk to the skeletons of Skelos in the bags, because they were no longer frightening. It was HARD to be scary when wrapped in a bag from Toys ‘R Us and these skeletons were not up to the task. Even the little Exorsister giggled in delight.
Upon arriving at the Halloween store we all wished the skeletons well and the boy told them to have fun screaming at people…just not at him! The father strode across the lot, in clear view of the children, opened the bag full of ghouls and set them loose as he held open the door. The employees of the satanic shop may have wondered what happened as the wind was expelled from the bags, possibly chilling them for a moment.
We know that all is well…and the skeletons are now back home-screaming and away from the harrowed family. I’ll hope we all go to bed tonight and are awoken only by the morning sun peeking through the windows.
As the screams of the skeletons of Skelos faded away the boy smiled and put his sheets into the washer.
“No more skeleton touches!”