70 lines
3.9 KiB
Plaintext
70 lines
3.9 KiB
Plaintext
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_______________________________________________________________________________
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_ _ _ _
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((___)) ((___))
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[ x x ] cDc communications [ x x ]
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\ / presents... \ /
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(` ') (` ')
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(U) (U)
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SESAME ST. POSSESSION
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by Swamp Rat
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>>> A CULT Publication......1988 <<<
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-cDc- CULT OF THE DEAD COW -cDc-
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_______________________________________________________________________________
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This story was written for a test in my senior (HS) English class. I
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hope you like it. The teacher did....
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John was twelve years old. It was summer vacation and John had been
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enjoying his time, wallowing in boredom. What better to do than sit on the
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living room floor and watch the local PBS station on the family TV? Ah, bliss.
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After several hours of this, his eyes and mind began to glaze over as "Sesame
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Street" eventually came on. Little did he know the program was to be his
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ultimate downfall into a new world of bizarre occult nightmares....
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After an extended period of watching fuzzy puppets with speech
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impediments tell bad jokes to small, inarticulate minority children and
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indigent senior citizens, a strange feeling came over John.... He began to
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see visions in his head, visions he'd never seen before... visions of plump
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puppets; impaling each other with forks, suffocating themselves with oven
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mitts, and flying kites with large yellow birds. Then, the image of a dozen
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red ladybugs hopping around in a circle, counting, burned itself into his
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brain. John imagined himself to be a ladybug and began to circle around the
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room on the plush carpet. "...ten eleven twelve... and they all gathered
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'round... at the ladybugs' picnic!" The words screamed immutably from his lips along with bits of spittle in his excitement. John was changing...
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Bubbling, John rushed to the kitchen, and with a histrionic voice began
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beating with his tender young fists on the garbage can underneath the sink.
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"Oscar!" he yelled, "Oscar! The sun is the north! The time is now! Rise,
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Oscar, rise!" Mad with rage, he then lurched for his bedroom, grabbing a large
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knife from a counter-top rack on his way out.
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"Die! Die, you pagan bastard!" The words exploded with passion and
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shook his once-peaceful room. John incessantly began to stab his Fred
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Flintstone Bop Bag with the blade of gleaming stainless steel. "Die die die!"
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... his screams continued to ejaculate from his furious mouth as the cheery
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yellow inflatable toy became a sullen pile of deflated, insane hatred on the
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floor. John grinned....
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Impervious to rational thought, John was now a slave to Oscar the
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Grouch. Climbing on the bed, John projectile-vomited his Oatsy-Toatsy-
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Spiffy-Puff Cereal(tm) on the wall for good measure, which glistened upon the
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glossy wallpaper as it flowed to the floor. Satisfaction would be his.
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Laughing hysterically, he dashed to the garage where he rummaged among the bits
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of miscellaneous trash until he found it... the gasoline container. Barely
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able to control his shaking hands, John managed to uncap the container which he
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raised high above his head and saturated his body with the flammable liquid.
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John's laughter had become an inhuman shriek as he struck the match....
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- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
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Demon Roach Underground......login:xxxxxx...new:xxxx.......806/794-4362
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===============================================================================
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(c)1988 cDc communications by Swamp Rat 7/5/88-63
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