November 02, 2005
I have three styles of scaring people that I prefer. The style I use most is what I call the “Creep and Leap”. This is when your “victim” knows you are there and can see you. Some people sit in chairs and pretend they are a scarecrow; I walk around trying to intimidate the mark first. You are “creeping” through the area and making them nervous. It’s easiest to read your mark using this method to see if you are getting to them at all. Once you feel the timing is right, you make your move or “Leap” at them. Some sudden movement and sound is usually enough to get them to jump, scream or both. This method tends to work best on the timid and females. Guys tend just to buck up and save face.
The next method is what I call the “Lurk and Lunge”. This is similar to the above creep and leap, except that you remain hidden (Inside a coffin, behind a door, etc), out of site so your mark has no idea that you are there. I lurk in the shadows or behind large objects like bushes and vehicles. When the person least expects it you lunge at them screaming like a madman. You can get a good scare using this tactic. The problem is that it’s hard to hand out candy AND do this.
The last method I use, which to me is the most difficult to get right, is the “Stalk and shock”. This is where after the person has turned their back on you, you just follow them, many times, they will be involved with talking to their friends or looking at what goody they were given. Then when they either turn around or you finally make a noise you can get them to jump right out of their skin. This works best if they are walking away from your house and feel “safe” from you. That is when you get the best reaction.
Now the incident at hand happened 2-3 years ago, so some of the details may be a little off.
For years, IÂ’ve decorated my front yard as a cemetery with realistic looking tombstones, fog machines, a life size realistic skeleton hanging from a poleaxe, a realistic zombie, severed heads, arms, hands, fog machines. I have a free flowing ghost that glows and moves about in my upstairs window, death on the back porch moving in a strobe light, various skulls, rats, bats, spiders, etc. I dress up as a demon lord of the Abyss, complete with a sub-professional form-fitting mask, demon hands that elongate my fingers and shoe covers that make my feat look skeletal. Every year I receive many compliments from people on how the house and I look. If I had, any pictures turn out this year IÂ’ll post some when I get them.
I roam around the graveyard, run the fog machine, hang out on our large front porch, hand out candy and scare the bejeebus out of people that are over the age of 10. I absolutely refuse intentionally to scare little kids; IÂ’ll take my mask off if they do get scared.
When I’m creeping about, I always look at people’s reactions to things to see if I can get a good scare out of them. Their screams in the night is like crack to an addict. I had just finished handing out candy to some kids when I see a group of four high schoolers coming towards my house, two boys and two girls. I figured the girls would be easy marks, as generally females scare easier… but scaring a guy is much more satisfying. It was too late for me to try to hide, so I pumped up the fog machine and engulfed the yard/porch in fog. As they came up the porch the girls were acting timid, but the boys were being were being “tough” and protecting the girls.
EhÂ… Fine. There is the next group. After I gave them their candy, (I give candy to anyone that shows up at my door in costume, I donÂ’t care if they are in their 50Â’s. If you took the time to put on a costume, then IÂ’ll give you candy. No costume, no candy.) I looked and saw no other groups where heading my way.
What the hell, the worst that will happen is I don’t get any reaction and waste my time. As the group left, girls side by side followed by guys side by side, I silently followed them down off my porch with my Trident (Plastic tip on a hoe handle to make it life size) and a severed arm. I’m quietly stalking behind the boys down my sidewalk to the street. I hear one boy say to the other how lame my display was. At that point, I’m half a step behind them.I thrust my trident with the severed arm impaled on it right between the boys into the middle of the group. In a raspy voice I loudly hissed, “This is what happened to the last person that ridiculed my domain”.
All four jumped and screamed. However, the boy that called the display lame must have had to go to the bathroom a while as a wet spot quickly formed in his groin region. SCORE!!!!! Not only did I get a four for one, but also I actually made a guy piss himself. I pointed towards his crotch and said, “Sorry about that” as I walked back to the porch to get ready for the next kids. I could hear the other guy and the girls make fun of him and rightly so. Being scared is one thing… pissing yourself is another.
Posted by: Contagion at
12:53 PM
| Comments (6)
| Add Comment
Post contains 1018 words, total size 6 kb.
October 29, 2005
Three, fourÂ… Better lock your door.
Five, SixÂ… Crab your crucifix.
Seven, EightÂ… Better stay up late.
Nine, TenÂ… Never sleep again.
Happy Halloween.
Posted by: Contagion at
11:02 PM
| Comments (4)
| Add Comment
Post contains 33 words, total size 1 kb.
September 22, 2005
This morning I heard two of my thralls talking about killing a deer in order to make sausage. Of course, my interest was peeked, killing deer and eating it, how any red blooded American re-enacting male could not want to get in on this. When I asked what brought this up, since neither “J-man” or “Big-T” seem to be the hunter type, they tell me that minion “Sherby” killed a deer with her truck on the way to work. Jumping out of my chair, I exclaim, “What? A dead deer ready for the taking? Where?” Visions of a new deer hide and fresh meat for the weekend filled my head.
Plans of field dressing the deer in the parking lot were dashed when they said, someplace on Spring Creek RD. They werenÂ’t exactly sure, but it had been a couple of hours since the incident and Spring Creek is a pretty busy road. Walking over to SherbyÂ’s desk, I start asking her questions.
Me: “I hear you killed a deer this morning.”
Sherby: “It was an accident, it jumped out in front of me. I hit it with my Dad’s truck.”
Me: “Did you grab the deer? Did you call the police?”
Sherby: “The deer was too big for me to pick up, so I left it on the side of the road. It wasn’t an adult deer, but it was still too big for me. Why would I call the police?”
Me: “Because in Illinois if you hit a deer with your vehicle, it is the law that you contact the police, plus you’ll need the report for the insurance company. Where did you hit the deer at?” (You do have to contact the police if you hit a deer; this is true)
Sherby: “I hit it on Spring Creek down by the river. My dad only has liability, so we won’t be filing a claim with the insurance.” (She hit the deer in downtown Rockford! All the luck! By this time, the crews would have cleaned it up, it would have been flattened in traffic or the homeless would be eating better then I am tonight!)
Me: “You still want to contact the police. If you don’t they can charge you with leaving the scene of motor vehicle accident with a fatality. You don’t want the police showing up at your dad’s door to drag him away do you? You left a dead deer in downtown Rockford, where there are cameras and witnesses that can identify the vehicle.” (The police will NOT charge you with leaving the scene of a MVA with a Fatality for reducing the surplus deer population.)
Sherby (looking worried): “Killing a deer is considered a fatality?”
Me: “Of course it died. It’s like a homicide, except it’s a faunacide. Instead of dealing with a human you have an animal” As far as I know there is no such thing as a faunacide, I believe I made that word up on the spot. UPDATE: Actually googling it, there appears that someone else came up with it before me.
Sherby: “Is that bad?”
Me: “Well yea, it falls under the animal cruelty laws. It’s a felony in this state. It’s equal to clubbing kittens with a golf club” (lie, lie, lie… BTW, I just liked that analogy so I used it, there is no special law for clubbing kittens with a golf club.)
Sherby (eyes wide and teary); “It was an accident! I didn’t mean to hit the deer!”
Me: “What if that had been a kid you had hit? Would you have meant to hit the kid, probably not? Because this is a deer that makes it okay? That’s just wrong. That poor deer was out, enjoying life and trying just to survive and you go and squash its head with the front of your truck. Now the poor little deer will never be able to grow up and enjoy life. At least when a hunter kills a deer they eat it and use the carcass. Not you, no you just leave its lifeless body on the side of the road where its death is meaningless!” (Did I mention she is an animal lover? No… ahhh, now it’s funnier!)
Sherby (eyes misting over, voice shaky): “That’s not what I meant; I never meant to hurt anything. I wouldn’t hurt an animal. I don’t know what to do.”
Me: “What I would do, if I were you, is call the police. Tell them that you hit the deer and that you just now where able to get to a phone. They will tell you exactly what you need to do. You should still be in an acceptable time frame, so I don’t foresee any problems.” (This was legit advice. She did need to call them and even though it was technically a lie, since she didn’t know she had to call the police until now, this was the first chance she had to call them).
Sherby (looking better) “Thanks Mr. Contagion. I’ll do that now.”
Twenty minutes pass, I walk back over to Sherby.
Me: “Sherby, what did the police say? Are they going to charge you with Faunacide?” (Because cops charge people with crimes over the phone?)
Sherby (looking releaved) “Luckily no… I just need to go file an accident report.”
Me: “You got lucky this time!”
Later when she left to go to lunch with minion Blond-T, I asked who was driving. Minion Blond-T responded she was. This set up this parting shot:
Me: “Good now maybe more innocent deer won’t be slaughtered at the hands of the Sherby.”
I couldnÂ’t help but laugh while Sherby gave me the evil eye and Blond-T laughed.
Posted by: Contagion at
04:46 PM
| Comments (5)
| Add Comment
Post contains 992 words, total size 6 kb.
July 29, 2005
It was during this conversation that I hurt my minions’ feelings. If you are still reading at this point, I’m sure you are wondering how. As you may have been able to tell by now, I’m not a normal individual. Being a little obsessive compulsive on various things, I tend to like having emergency plans, “just in caseâ€�. My plans contain a contingency for zombies. Okay, now I won’t blame you if you stop reading me now and delete the link, but just here me out. You never know what is going to happen. All it consists of is my plan for invasion by a foreign country, ala Red Dawn. Except that I have it modified for Zombies, Space Aliens and a super disease, ala The Stand. See it’s not AS weird as you were thinking… or it’s even weirder now that you know the rest.
When I went into in-depth detail about my plan, both of my minions said that if zombies did start roaming the earth they where going to come with me. This is where the trouble begins; I told them both that I would not take either because they would be liabilities. Neither of them possess and skills and knowledge that would be useful. My plan consists of my having people with at least a general knowledge of specific topics for it to work. Neither one of them had anything that I could use. Then they asked if I would bring my wife and kids. Which I told them I would, but only because it is my wife and kids; I would however leave my parents and sister. Now they are telling me I’m cold and mean. Then finally, my minion, Big T, says to me, “Well we’ll just show up at your stronghold and pound on the gates.â€� This is where the hurt feelings happened.
I looked her dead in the eye and responded with, “I’d just shoot you in the head. That way you can’t rise as zombie and I don’t have to worry about providing for you.â€� (In most zombie movies, if you damage the brain the zombie ceases to function.) She has not stopped giving me crap about this since. Apparently just because I get along with her and my other minion Ton Loc, that I am obligated to keep them safe from zombies. My thing is that times are going to get hard and the more people you have the harder it will be to supply and take care of them. In addition, there is a greater chance for something happening and someone getting bitten; being turned into a zombie themselves. Big T then tried to justify that her husband would fit into my plan, and he might. When I told her that I’d put him into my “Maybeâ€� pile (yes, I called it a pile. They all found this highly amusing), however that I still wouldn’t take her; she became even more upset.
Now IÂ’m just laughing at the whole thing. CÂ’mon people, I am so skeptical that this scenario would ever happen that IÂ’m willing to say it will never happen. How can she be that upset over something that isnÂ’t ever going to happen? Also does anyone else have a zombie contingency plan or is it just me?
Posted by: Contagion at
03:59 PM
| Comments (6)
| Add Comment
Post contains 635 words, total size 4 kb.
June 27, 2005
I was mainly in Chicago for a training class, however I had a lot of extra time before class, during breaks, lunch and after class. In order to check items out and try to keep up with what everyone is doing, I would take over her computer. The first time I did this she told me that her mouse was acting up and she thought she would need a new one. She had an old roller ball style mouse and the only problem it had was many years worth of dust build up on the rollers. I very easily cleaned them off using my trusty Swiss Army Boy Scout knife. In doing so I accidentally unplugged her mouse. When I went to plug it back in I discovered that her computer is very easily accessible.
I went back to class and was sitting there after I finished the assignment. I started talking to the guy next to me. He works in our tech support area and he told me they just received a shipment of wireless optical mice and they are playing with them to see if it is something that they want to extend to the entire company. As soon as he said that a light went off in my head. I asked if there was anyway I could obtain the use of one wireless optical mouse for a day. He wanted to know why so I gave him a brief synapses of my plan. He then told me he would bring me one the next day.
Thursday morning IÂ’m in class and he shows me the mouse, all I have to do is plug it in a USB port, restart the computer; windows and the network will do the rest. This was going to be too easy! After class I went up my mentoreeÂ’s desk and asked to use her computer. I waited for her to leave and I quickly unplugged her real mouse, plugged in the new one and restarted it. I left the cord to her mouse leading to the back of the computer so that it looked like it was plugged in. When she came back I told her I had finished checking my e-mail and that she can have her computer back. This is where the fun starts.
As she sits down, I pull the wireless mouse out of my pocket and try to mimic the way she was using hers. This gave the illusion she was controlling the pointer. I didnÂ’t do a great job, but she was used to her mouse working like crap so she didnÂ’t think twice about it except to complain she needs a new mouse. Finally she got mad and slammed the mouse on the desk. Now I really start to play with her mind. Whichever direction she would move the mouse; I would move the pointer in the opposite direction. If she would right click, I would left click. She is starting to get mad and is telling me her mouse is really screwed up and she knew there was something wrong with it. IÂ’m biting my tongue to keep from snickering.
Trying to be the helpful mentor that I am, I suggested she rotate the mouse so the cord is pointing towards her. At least then she could get the mouse to go in the right direction. The poor lady actually does this. Now of course as soon as she does I keep flip my mouse around so that I can mimic her motions again, thus making it look like the mouse has corrected itself and is following the movement that coincides with her mouse. She tells me the problem seems to be fixed and flips her mouse around. I do the same thing. Now however I start clicking the button to make menus and windows open.
She is getting so mad that her mouse isnÂ’t working and the Tech area hasnÂ’t come to fix it all day. (Because they are in on it, in fact my partner in crime is watching from three desks back). Her minions are starting to come over to see what the problem is; they however are not in the joke so they are wondering what the hell is wrong with her mouse. All was going well until one of them noticed the red light reflecting off my pants leg and asked me what that was. My mentoree turns, looks at me, IÂ’m grinning ear to ear. She looks at the mouse in my hand, realizes what is going on and looks like she could bite the head off a hammer. I start laughing, tears are starting to fill my eyes IÂ’m laughing so hard. Her minions are laughing now, the tech support guys are laughing. She finally cracks a smile then starts to laugh with us.
I had her going for a good thirty minutes. She felt that since I played this joke on her and “embarrassed” her in front of her minions that I should let her keep the optical wireless mouse. After explaining that it wasn’t mine and that I borrowed it from the tech support department she relented on keeping it. She then wanted to know who my contact was because in her own words, “I’ve worked in the building for 15 years and I don’t have a contact in the tech support department, you’re here two days and you have one. That’s not fair!” Unfortunately I had to deny her request. I always keep my sources to myself; it helps to protect them if I need them for another prank later on.
It was shortly after this incident she came up with the top ten reasons my mentoreeÂ’s hate me. The rest of the time I was in Chicago, her minions would go out of the way to say hi if they saw me.
Posted by: Contagion at
09:48 PM
| Comments (4)
| Add Comment
Post contains 1163 words, total size 6 kb.
June 20, 2005
The new next-door neighbors that moved in try to avoid making eye contact with me when they are outside. Once I tried to get the wifeÂ’s attention and I swear she shielded her eyes with her hand, quickened her step and shooed her children into the house. The husband doesnÂ’t seem to be home too much, but when he is he generally doesnÂ’t acknowledge me either and tries to avoid eye contact. A couple of SaturdayÂ’s ago, after dark, my wife thought she heard someone in the backyard. I went out the front door to see if I could figure out who it is. The new neighbor was sitting on his back porch and when he saw me stalking the yard, he asked what was going on. That was the first time he has said more then two words to me in 4 months.
All my other neighbors go out of their way to avoid me. They’ve all seen me swinging swords, cleaning fire arms, sharpening knives, building artillery carriages, hauling in large packages marked “WARNING: EXPLOSIVES! BLACK POWDER FOR SMALL ARMS!” teaching my kid the most appropriate and easy way to kill a person with a toy sword. I received the best reaction when I told Boopie once, “If you hit a person in the femoral artery they will die quickly, however if you make a nice deep belly wound they will die a slow painful death. If you are lucky, any allies or friends they have nearby will try to help save his life. Now you have effectively taken 2-3 people out of the battle. However, you could also kill the people giving aid when their backs are turned.” I didn’t realize one of my other neighbors was outside watering plants with her kids and they had heard it. Shortly after, they moved out as well. Go figure.
There is an upside to being the scary guy in the neighborhood. Nobody messes with my house or property. There was a string of minor burglaries in my neighborhood. My house and the neighbor that I liked were the only houses not hit. I think the entire neighborhood warns anyone new that moves in about me. I do know that they refer to me as “The Scary Guy”. One day I was out in my back yard scrubbing and swabbing out my musket when this family goes walking by on the sidewalk. I hear the little girl ask, “Mommy, look its The Scary Guy, the one Mr. Brown told you about.” The mother and father hurried their daughter along; I just sat back and grinned. In addition, another time one of the neighborhood kids came up and asked me if I was “The Scary guy” I couldn’t help but to assure him that I was with my patented child scowl.
I also donÂ’t have the problems with my neighbors that I hear other people talk of. They donÂ’t complain to me about the stuff I do. No one comes over to borrow anything. They donÂ’t pop in at odd hours. Their kids stay out of my yard and more importantly they donÂ’t use my cooler as a urinal. IÂ’m not asked favors. ItÂ’s a symbiotic relationship. I scare the bad elements away and they leave me alone. In general, life is good for me.
Posted by: Contagion at
03:55 PM
| Comments (8)
| Add Comment
Post contains 723 words, total size 4 kb.
And - I think you just described my husband. He's a "scary guy" too, although we haven't scared off any neighbors yet. But - I think the night he stepped out from the side of the yard with his 9 pointed at the stupid ass brat from up the street while said brat was trying to put a fire cracker in our mail box might be the reason we don't see the little smuck anymore - but who knows.
June 09, 2005
If you are caught in one of them, you will be soaked. Trust me, I know. It happened to me yesterday. A local fast food restaurant, ArbyÂ’s, was having a sale. If you buy one sandwich, you get the second one of equal or lesser value free. My wife, T the Minion and I decided to go there on lunch. When we arrived, it was sunny and warm out. I parked Janine, my truck, in the only available spot I could fit her into which was on the far side of the parking lot. We went in ordered our food, which they screwed my order up, as they always do. ItÂ’s okay; they gave me a free summer-sized glow in the dark cup and drink to compensate for it. Hey, you can buy me off with $1.89 worth of pop in a $.60 collectorÂ’s cup!
We sat down and where half done eating when it happened. The skies opened up as Mother Nature squatted over the earth and took a long drunken piss on us mere mortals. The rain was hitting the plate glass windows so hard you could see them vibrate. I was waiting for the Skylight to shatter under the force of the driving droplets of destruction. The parking lot filled to a depth of a kiddy pool. The wind was blowing leaves and branches off trees. My wife and T decided we should wait for the rain to end. I played along, until the point where they would be late for work if we didnÂ’t leave. Being the bad guy, I had to advise them if we did not leave soon, they would be late back from lunch. We had to head out.
We go out the front door. We are under an overhang at the entrance with another patron and his two kids. I tell T and my wife I will unlock the truck and they need to run and get in. My truck has four doors, but the two rear doors are the reverse doors that only open if the front door is open. T was sitting in the back seat so I told him to go first, once he gets in, IÂ’ll go. My wife takes her shoes off because she canÂ’t run in heals and takes off after T.
As they are running toward the truck, I look down to my hand, there is my remote lock and my thumb starts to slide toward the lock button. That is when my fellow Arby’s patron say’s pointedly, “You’re going to lock them out, aren’t you?” My thumb slides away from the lock button, I point to my wife and respond, “Nah, I’m married to that one, She’d kill me.” The patron just gave me this look and said, “Yea, I wouldn’t do that to my wife either.” I had never seen this guy before, but it was as if he knew me. He knew I was thinking of locking the doors and having a laugh at their expense. It was like he could sense some kind of aura or presence about me that screamed out to the universe, “BEWARE! This man is an asshole! Watch yourself and others around him. You have been warned! This message will repeat in 10 seconds” I’m not denying the thought crossed my mind, but I had already decided not to do it when he asked.
After Ktreva and T were in the truck, I took off across the lot. At one point, I took a step and water came flooding over the top of my shoe, soaking my foot. When I finally got into the truck, I looked at Ktreva and T. We were all soaked, water dripping down our faces. I start the truck and head back to work. We were not more then two minutes out of the lot when the rain just stopped. It didnÂ’t slow down, it just went away.
We arrived at work with 3 minutes to spare. Ktreva and T where irritated because if we had waited and extra couple of minutes, we would have arrived to work dry and on time. I told them that no matter how much I would like to, I am prohibited in using my omnipotence in order to help them avoid the weather. Plus I did turn the air conditioner on to help them dry off! Did I mention the air conditioner in my truck could double as an industrial freezers cooling unit?
I didnÂ’t really mind getting soaked I felt the wet clothes where a good trade for the benefits. I think my wife looks sexy when sheÂ’s all wet. She hates it, but itÂ’s not about her! ItÂ’s all about her being wet in an air conditioned truck!
Posted by: Contagion at
12:28 PM
| Comments (6)
| Add Comment
Post contains 917 words, total size 5 kb.
67 queries taking 0.0573 seconds, 197 records returned.
Powered by Minx 1.1.6c-pink.
