Reunion
Fucking Village of the Damned kids and that stupid fucking worthless Blob. They ruin everything. Always have.
You take your Newcastle's down in four quick gulps and wish your monster friends well.
"Vhat?!" Dracula says, "You're leaving so soon?"
"Yeah," You reply, "I'm not hanging around with a shapeless mass and a bunch of kids."
"Very vell." Dracula says, "It was nice seeing... er... talking to you again."
"Same here." You say. "See y'all later."
They all wave and say goodbye and you storm off for the door, slipping past the outer edge of the Blob.
The night air hits your face. It is a little chillier than when you first arrived at the bar, and your breath comes out in a fog.
You walk the streets alone, ranting internally about the aggravation you are experiencing by the arrival of such lame silver screen movie stars to a true movie legends reunion party.
It's not that the Village of the Damned movie wasn't awesome and eerie; it's just always bothered you that the kids were exactly the same in real life. There was absolutely no acting on their part. They just stood there and let their eyes glow and fucked with the other actors' heads. Dracula was acting when he was all scary on screen. Same thing with the Wolfman, the Creature from the Black Lagoon, and Frankenstein. They were actors. Talented too. They didn't just stand around with British accents and give out migraine headaches with glowing eyes to get whatever they wanted.
You were a hell of an actor too. You were all invisible... and... Okay, so maybe it bothers you a little that these fucking kids were always scarier than you. What the fuck, they're kids! You wish you could give people migraine headaches by looking into their eyes. Of course your "victims" would never be able to see your eyes because you're invisible. How the fuck is something that can't be seen supposed to be frightening, anyway?!
Fuck those stupid kids! Fuck them right up their British asses! Or is it arses?
Another thing that's bothering you about those kids, now that you think about it, is that they haven't aged a bit. They're still kids. How the fuck does that happen?
And then there's the Blob. That thing is a fucking loser. It's just... there. It doesn't do anything. One time someone passes it a joint and it absorbed. No one ever got that pot back, ever. The Blob is a shapeless, formless, greedy bastard.
You hate the Blob. And its movie sucked too.
Suddenly you hear the roar of an engine inches form you. You turn in time to see the grill on the front of semi barrel into your face.
Everything goes black. You wonder if you will be visible in heaven...
You take your Newcastle's down in four quick gulps and wish your monster friends well.
"Vhat?!" Dracula says, "You're leaving so soon?"
"Yeah," You reply, "I'm not hanging around with a shapeless mass and a bunch of kids."
"Very vell." Dracula says, "It was nice seeing... er... talking to you again."
"Same here." You say. "See y'all later."
They all wave and say goodbye and you storm off for the door, slipping past the outer edge of the Blob.
The night air hits your face. It is a little chillier than when you first arrived at the bar, and your breath comes out in a fog.
You walk the streets alone, ranting internally about the aggravation you are experiencing by the arrival of such lame silver screen movie stars to a true movie legends reunion party.
It's not that the Village of the Damned movie wasn't awesome and eerie; it's just always bothered you that the kids were exactly the same in real life. There was absolutely no acting on their part. They just stood there and let their eyes glow and fucked with the other actors' heads. Dracula was acting when he was all scary on screen. Same thing with the Wolfman, the Creature from the Black Lagoon, and Frankenstein. They were actors. Talented too. They didn't just stand around with British accents and give out migraine headaches with glowing eyes to get whatever they wanted.
You were a hell of an actor too. You were all invisible... and... Okay, so maybe it bothers you a little that these fucking kids were always scarier than you. What the fuck, they're kids! You wish you could give people migraine headaches by looking into their eyes. Of course your "victims" would never be able to see your eyes because you're invisible. How the fuck is something that can't be seen supposed to be frightening, anyway?!
Fuck those stupid kids! Fuck them right up their British asses! Or is it arses?
Another thing that's bothering you about those kids, now that you think about it, is that they haven't aged a bit. They're still kids. How the fuck does that happen?
And then there's the Blob. That thing is a fucking loser. It's just... there. It doesn't do anything. One time someone passes it a joint and it absorbed. No one ever got that pot back, ever. The Blob is a shapeless, formless, greedy bastard.
You hate the Blob. And its movie sucked too.
Suddenly you hear the roar of an engine inches form you. You turn in time to see the grill on the front of semi barrel into your face.
Everything goes black. You wonder if you will be visible in heaven...
