running deeper into the forest, the bull close behind me, as I chugged the beers one after the other, throwing the cans back as hard as I could at the bull’s head. “Wait a minute,” I thought. “What I should be doing is…”
…cleaning the cow shit off this bloody gun.
Just then a shout from a small copse made me …
jump out of my fucking skin. The corpse appeared to be that of a young child, age 4 or 5, and as it slowly rose, shouting at me in an incomprehensible tongue, I glimpsed writhing maggots in the sockets where it’s eyes had once been. As this undead horror reached for me with bony, rotten fingers, I screamed at the top of my lungs and…
Ran away from it into the nearby copse of trees (;)) I heard the shout from, where I saw…
A large man wearing a kilt, a top hat,spats and a womans 34DD cup bra.
In his left hand he a held what appeared to be a watering can and in his right a large carrot.
He whistled and beckoned me to come nearer…“Not fucking likely” I thought and made…
beeline out of there at high speed. As I ran off, I noticed the strange man point what I had thought was a carrot at the bull and the bull dropped in its tracks. Dead or stunned I did not find out until later. At that point I somehow picked up my speed. It was then that …
the damn corpse from earlier reached up grabbing me around my ankles. Which of course caused me to trip into yet another pile of shit, this time alien . . .
Up to now, I had merely been curiously excited. The portal, the furious cow, the angry farmer and the man with the carrot – all had been too strange and too unexpected to arouse more fear than nervous interest in my heart. But now for the first time terror clenched my heart, for as I wiped the alien shit out of my eyes, I saw a young lady stride towards me, speaking German and holding a tarp. If the internet has ever taught me anything, it’s that a German woman with a tarp…
…is intent on building a very large tent to contain vast quantities of alien cow shit which as everyone knows is the key to longevity.
This worried me as I am well aware that German women…
are all bent on global conquest. The swastika emblazoned on her tarp also gave me some cause for concern, I confess, so without further hesitation I promptly…
…tried to escape, but it was too late. By the time I’d managed to free my ankle from the rotting corpse it had already latched it’s jaw unto my other calf and begun gnawing at my flesh. The gruesomely muscled and busty German woman gave a wry smile before she attempted to free me from the grasp of the corpse by…
ramming a large silvery tent pole through its head. This seems to have done wonders as the foul creature exploded. The one side affect, being that I was not covered in foul goo. Who would think that I would be nostalgic for the cow crap. I really need to find a bath and I was still worried about my rescuer. I know noticed though that her Swastikas were in reverse of the Nazi’s symbol and that hers were green. In my world these were actually a symbol of life and it gave me hope that she …
handed me a daisy and then stuck another daisy in the barrel of my gun. Unfortunately, my hope proved short-lived when the woman told me in in heavily German-accented English that…
. . . I could wake up; and so I did. While clearing my head, I found that I was in my own bed, in my own room. Presently, though, after noticing the turquiose pegnoir draped across the foot of the bed and while smelling the distinct odor of bacon and cinnamon toast wafting through the air, I detected the distinct sound of the shower being turned off. Swiveling my head towards the closed bathroom door, I swung my feet out of bed and stepped into . . . .
(I can see Sam Raimi directing this)
…the still-steamy bathroom. With a trembling hand, I opened the foggy glass door to the shower. Standing there dripping wet, smiling broadly and naked as the day she was born, was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. I stammered, “Excuse me, miss, but…”
“CUT!” yelled Sam Raimi. “That’s great! Now where are those idiots with the blood? We don’t have all day to do this, people!” Someone scurried off to find the idiots with the blood while the actress wrapped herself in a bathrobe and went to get her zombie makeup applied. I took the opportunity to sit down and crack my knuckles extra loud, as I always do between takes, which by the way does NOT cause arthritis and despite what you read in the tabloids did NOT cause Angie Harmon to vomit on set; that is a despicable lie and the next rag that prints it will be getting a letter from my . . .
attorney! And don’t get me started about those damn paparazzi either! Why just the other day, I went out to get my mail when one of those obnoxious turds …
…who lived across the street, began pointing and laughing at me.
I then realised…
I wasn’t wearing any pants. Oh, man, will this lose me the part in Sam Raimi’s next picture? I wondered. Then I remembered that my across-the-street neighbor is Tim Conway, and he can appreciate the ol’ no-pants gag as well as the next guy. Plus, I don’t think he even knows Sam Raimi. So I waved to Tim, got my mail and went back inside, where I found…