I was thinking about The Bernards’ highly “anticipated” EP The Joke Went Too Far today. Our producer has been renovating his studio, and they are still working on it slowly, so our material won’t actually be available for another couple weeks. I do, however, think this song rocks and want to share it with the world. This mix is actually like two months old, but I hope someone can find joy in it anyway (Jordan, you don’t count).
The Curse Of The Moongician (And Other Tales To Tell 'Round Midnight)
The Bloody Kid
After the dance, Evan would be… well, we’ll get to the dance. Right now Evan was walking to school. It was his first year of 7th grade, and he hoped he would not need a second year to finish. He had completed all of his previous grades in the normal amount of time, but you never know when things could take a turn, especially in Rape Town, which was full of spooky ghosts.
This day’s ghosts were quite helpful on Evan’s walk to school. He was advised the route he should take to school, should he want to avoid the school bullies and some of the more surly ghosts. He made it there without any scuffles and he even found a dollar that wasn’t haunted, thanks to the least surly of the helpful ghosts.
It should probably be mentioned that the “dance” mentioned earlier and the title “The Bloody Kid” are not references to Carrie. This has nothing to do with Carrie.
Evan walked through the front double doors of St. Specterbeard’s Middle School and was immediately hit with a sigh of relief. No ghosts could walk the halls of St Specterbeard’s without first being deleted from existence, thus really not being able to walk the halls at all. The ectobarriers lining the walls, pipes, windows, and doors were provided by the St. Specterbeard Middle School and Research Center down the street, so you know they were state-of-the-art and virtually impenetrable.
Evan arrived at his locker and thought about the helpful ghosts from his walk. He was certainly lucky on this day, as most ghosts he or really anyone encounters were surly at best. He wondered if maybe they were actually playing a trick on him, and he would soon be hexed or at the very least embarrassed by one of their common ghostly pranks that end up killing people. He couldn’t blame them, though. If he were a ghost, he would want to make more and more ghost friends until there were no more living people and there were only ghosts. This is just what all of the townspeople suspected the ghosts wanted, but they would never say it out loud (so as not to tip off the ghosts). The ghost problem was certainly the main problem plaguing Rape Town, although it was not the only one. One of the many others was the horrible horrible bird problem. They seemed to be raping a lot of the local dogs, who couldn’t help but be upset by it. The dog owners, of course, were really just more worried about the ghosts, so it was not often addressed. And, really, how would they even know about it? The dog would bark out instructions on how to understand dogs and then the owner would follow them and then the dog would bark out the incredibly scarring memory of it getting raped by some asshole bird? That seems like a lot of work and highly unlikely to boot.
No, wait! So he goes to school, you find out no one likes him and they treat him like shit, they end up pulling a prank on him at the dance that ends with him going crazy magic insane and-Okay… it’s pretty much like Carrie only instead of pigs’ blood it’s human blood. And then at the end they all apologize to him, he discovers a power to heal others, no one dies, and he gets to kiss the homecoming queen, who turns out to be a demon with a brain for a head.
"Hey," said the stoned gentleman to the narrator on his midnight excursion to the delicately-nicknamed ‘Kroghetto.’ Were the narrator a stereotyping person, the narrator would have stereotyped this particular stoned gentleman as a "thug," evidenced by the fact that his hoodie went down to his awesome kicks, his arms were completely hidden underneath his hoodie, and he had what seemed to be a permanent scowl on his face, which was hindered only by the fact that his face also seemed to be almost unrealistically high at the time.
"Do you have a dollar?" the stoned gentleman asked.
The narrator looked at his fellow shopper with confused irritation. After many years of living in whatever city this particular narrator lived, he had encountered countless people asking him for money. This, however, usually involved him being out on the street, not inside an actual place of business. Never had it occurred to him that if he did not have any money, he should just go to the store he wanted something from and hope that the other patrons could spot him.
"I actually just have a card, man." Said the narrator truthfully. "Sorry," the narrator lied.
The narrator continued down the aisle, picked up a bag of cat food (for dippin’) and not 36 seconds after his enlightening conversation with the stoned gentleman down the aisle, he arrived at the self check-out. He began scanning his items in the manner one would scan their items.
"Hey, do you have a dollar?" a familiar voice asked at a nearby scanner.
"No, I’m sorry," the girl being asked replied. "I’m using a card."
The narrator scanned his last item and heard the familiar voice ask, ”Hey, do you have a dollar?” from remarkable proximity.
Looking up and to the right, the narrator’s eyes met the eyes of the stoned gentleman, who was standing not a foot away.
"What?" asked the narrator, attempting to give the patron a moment to remember what had happened two minutes and forty-three seconds ago.
"Do you have a dollar?" the man asked again.
"No, I have a card," said the narrator, pointing to a nearby aisle. "I’m from over there," he told him.
The stoned gentleman did not look to where the narrator was pointing, although he did blink, which could perhaps be mistaken for a response. He proceeded to walk off aimlessly, although whatever aim he didn’t have was apparently still true, because moments later the narrator heard, “Hey, do you have a dollar?”
"No, I just have a card," the narrator heard as he paid for his groceries with the card he brought with him because he knew he was going to the grocery store to buy things.
There are four self scanners at this grocery store, so as the narrator walked away, he heard the question one last time. As the door whirred closed behind him, the narrator assumed they only had a card.
Slightly later on, the narrator arrived home and busted open a bag of tortilla chips and the bag of cat food (for dippin’). He set to work on recounting his adventure and, upon writing it all down, the narrator realized that he did indeed have exactly one dollar.
First of all, I think the above is the perfect slogan for twitter. I recommend they start using it. Also, I am considering getting a twitter account, because sometimes I have a minute, and apparently twitter is “sweeping” the “nation.” Whatever. I still don’t quite agree with what twitter’s all about, and if I really want to tweet, I can just use the new Facebook (TwitBook). However, I was looking around for possible twitter account names, just to see what was available. I checked for “ZombieLincoln,” because I would enjoy tweeting as ZombieLincoln, but apparently it’s already fucking taken. Below is what it looks like. I’m not yet sure if this is an utter waste of an awesome twitter account name, or the absolute best use of an awesome twitter account name. I’m leaning towards the latter.