A New Contributor

I said that more people would help contribute to this blog, and now I have actual proof. Her name is Megan Lewis, and she shall soon post some of her own stories. That's all.

Gets up and leaves without any signs of physical affection,

That's Aila Jones!

The Ultimate Adventure: The Viking Cashier and his Taxidermy Shop

Though a bit odd, nobody had ever questioned Jeffrey the Totally Lame Vampire Slayer's collection of labeled fanny packs. He always wore 3 at all times, and his most worn ones were labeled as follows: "illegal presidential substances", "colorful marbles", and "Aila Excellence's baked goods". Each fanny pack was gingerly adjusted around his hips, appearing to be an extra bulbous brightly patterned buttock. He reached into his baked goods-filled pouch and grabbed miniature chocolate pie and chewed slowly as the group watched patiently.

"To the taxidermy shop!" he announced. Everyone struck a pose and leapt outside the door in a nearly blinding flash, only being able to hear the cry of death for a mere second.

 They materialized before the entrance of the shop, allowing Miss Jenna-sen to push the door open. As they all stepped in, the posse's hearing orifices were blessed by a recorded moo.

"Don't worry- he's dead now!" the Viking clerk chuckled. "In fact, that's the original inspiration for our motto: 'If you don't like what you hear, it can die with our will.' Great motto, don't you think?" he said, twisting his godlike facial hair proudly. He knew that anyone with the honor to see him would be jealous. Foresight, however, is not a Viking's strongest attribute, as the Viking cashier didn't realize that his glamorous locks would eventually decay to a glabrous head of nothingness; his once melatonin-dripping beard would be like white straw.

“No, that sounds like a terrible motto, actually. Were you oxygen deprived at birth or something?” Abraham Lincoln said, envious of the dramatic difference in hair quality between the two men.

“Nope!” chuckled the Viking clerk. “By the power of Thor’s hammer, I turned out pretty fabulous.” he said. “Are you ready to hand over the body?” Miss Jenna-sen nodded solemnly and passed along various parts of Jay’s body to the cashier in an orderly fashion rivaled by none.

The Viking clerk silently measured Jay’s former appendages and suddenly grabbed them in his muscular arms.
“BY THE POWER OF ODIN’S BEARD, TAXIDERMIZE THIS BOY! LET HIS BODY ACHIEVE THE EXCELLENCE OF THE FAMOUS TPD!” he shouted at the top of his manly lungs. Lightning struck through the patched roof and sent electric shivers through the posse. The Norse god Odin let out a booming laugh.

“Ha, that’s a pretty funny notion now, huh? That Jay seems a bit lame, but he’s with you guys, so I won’t pick on him too much.” he snickered. “Ah, whatever. I’ll get my crew to taxidermize him,” he conceded condescendingly. Odin cracked his bulging knuckles and aimed his ring finger at Jay’s remains with his remaining eye fiercely concentrated. Skeins of string, body bags full of stuffing, and his forest animal buddies burst from his draupnir explosively. Twirling around Jay’s body parts in the air rhythmically, Odin and his funky-fresh friends sewed an excellently stuffed Jay together while humming violent rap songs. The group applauded and appreciated the Norse god’s freshly taxidermized Jay. Jay looked at his new body and fainted in the Viking clerk's wonderfully manly arms.

“Almost like the real thing!” squealed Aila.

“It is the real thing, stupid.” scoffed Jeffrey the Totally Lame Vampire Slayer.

“Nah, he looks cooler,” she said, unwilling to believe.

“What are you talking about? Only Odin and the Viking dude know the secret of the taxidermized ones." Emma said anxiously. The Viking exchanged proud looks with Odin and fist bumped.
"Yep, you just can't compete with us! You're practically unworthy." Odin declared pompously. The mysterious pie nearly snapped under his crust with fury.
"She's NOT UNWORTHY, Nordic fools! She is perfect in every way and we'll have cupcake children that you will totally envy." he roared as only a pie could. The crowd around him gasped, shocked, and searching for Emma's reaction in her paled face. She bent down stiffly under everyone's watch and picked up one of Odin's dutiful bunnies, only to bite its snow white ears off and guzzle its bunny blood.

"What? It's just how I deal with stress!" she screamed.

Peanut Butter and Jelly,

Aila "Ole Middle Name" Jones

A Non-Canonical Short Story: The Monster Under the Bed

The warm night's breeze passed through the window of Billy's room, startling him for the third time that night. Moonlight bathed him in an incandescent glow, further paling his ashy face. Billy would have truly feared for the slightest noises and sense that evil was in the air, except he was too self-aware of his neurotic behavior to even feel emotionally connected to his phobic psyche. His parents were higher on the corporate ladder than most of his schoolmates and his mother gave birth to him in her mid-thirties, yet young Billy knew that they were just as insensitive as the unplanned parents in the sub-division of his affluent neighborhood. Still, he tried his hardest to be the best student in the fourth grade, he was in Little League baseball, he had his assigned friends. Teachers, and mostly every other sort of adult accepted him as the quiet boy who did his homework. His schoolmates and chosen friends accepted him as the necessary friend, the one who would always bring the most expensive birthday present. Billy felt comfortable knowing his friends would never betray him, so he pretended to fear the made-up monsters inside his control. They had long fangs and scaly skin covering their broad body, so he wouldn't fear a particular animal, he thought. Or perhaps they could be slinky, furry creatures who had horns all over their body and beady reptilian eyes. Billy shuddered at the thought merely to brainwash himself to feel like a normal child, one who had doting, monster-slaying parents. A perfect pair who wished him sweet dreams with a kiss on the head at night, they would have named him something other than Billy, he thought resentfully in his linen-sheeted bed.

Billy sighed, and made his decision. "Tonight", he decided rebelliously, "It would be important to test them and see whether or not they can really be my rightful parents. If not, I'll run away." Billy stepped off from his soft bed and sneered at the trophy-adorned room his parents crafted. "It's only ever about them, anyways." he decided. Billy grabbed a fistful of his expensive sheets that his parents paid egregiously for and brought himself to throw them across the room. His face, now embalmed in his newfound power and once nervous sweat took on a different glow in the moonlight. He confidently left the mussed sheets on the freshly waxed floor and nearly punched the door open. Billy took galloping strides through the long hallway, suppressing any childlike urges to giggle. He stopped before his parents' room, not hesitating to knock for more than a second of his life.

"What is it now?" he heard his father boom impatiently, rushing to the door. Billy felt a surge of glee for being acknowledged by his authority figure, his misguided idol. His father opened the door too soon but it was too late for him to realize that he didn't have his mask on. Billy gaped at the monster of his carefully censored dreams, and started to scream, but it was too late. The monster that was his father had used his strong teeth on his son's small body and crushed Billy's spine on the way down his strong esophagus.