HEY KIDS! DO YOU LIKE HARROWING TALES OF EXCITEMENT AND DANGER?! IF NARROW ESCAPES, TWISTED HALLS, STABS IN THE BACK, AND SHOTS IN THE DARK ARE YOUR IDEA OF A GOOD TIME THEN YOU HAVE TUNED INTO RIGHT PLACE!! WELCOME, ONE AND ALL, TO PSYCHO BILLY'S HOUSE OF SLAUGHTER! THE PLACE WHERE FIVE CONTESTANTS ARE PUT TO THE TEST IN A SCAVENGER HUNT, TO THE DEATH!
Wednesday, May 5, 2010
BLUE PLAYER GO!
THE METAL DOORS TO YOUR PNEUMATIC TUBE OPEN WITH A VIOLENT HISS AND YOU COLLAPSE TO THE COLD MARBLE FLOOR BEFORE YOU. THE VOICE OF THAT INSIDIOUS CLOWN STILL RINGING IN YOUR EARS YOU FEEL THE SWEAT ON YOUR BODY TURN TO A COLD CHILL AS YOU LUMBER UP FROM THE FETAL POSITION AND STAND ON YOUR FEET.
THE LARGE TUBE IN EMBEDDED INTO THE WALL BEHIND YOU LOOKS NOT UNLIKE THE DECOR THAT SURROUNDS IT. FADED WALLPAPER AND PLASTERED CEILING IMPLY THAT YOU ARE IN SOME SORT OF BUILDING, MAYBE EVEN A HOUSE. ALTHOUGH THE STANK STALE AIR AND GENERAL FEELING OF UNEASE WOULD SUGGEST THAT THIS HOUSE IS NOT INTENDED FOR COMFORTABLE LIVING.
WALLS ROUGHLY TEN FEET APART CONTINUE BEFORE YOU MAKING A HALLWAY THAT STRETCHES TWENTY FEET INTO THE DARKNESS. THE ONLY SOURCE OF LIGHT IS THE SMALL DIODES FROM THE PNEUMATIC TUBE THAT HAS FINISHED ITS SINISTER HISSING AND NOW ONLY GARGLES HOT SPITTLES OF LIQUID FROM ITS BASE.
YOU ARE NOT QUITE SURE WHERE YOU ARE BUT IT IS CERTAIN THAT YOU FEEL A LONG WAY FROM HOME.
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
HELLO YELLOW!!
The T.V. screen blips and then cuts to black for a split second. This drastic change causes your body to spam and your mind to draw to immediate attention. Your vision is now consumed with the image of an entire audience of children screaming with excitement. The high-pitch of their fervor is enough to pierce your ears and cause your face to a grimace. Panning into the screen, in an unnaturally close close-up, you see a jubilant face painted like a clown brandishing a large and toothy smile.
“HI KIDDOS!! YOU KNOW WHAT TIME IT IS??”
The children heighten the sharpness of their cheers.
“THAT’S RIGHT … PSYCHO BILLY’S HOUSE OF SLAUGHTER!!!”
As you brace yourself for more audible impact the children’s cheering is nearly unbearable for you.
“OKAY BOYS AND GIRLS, PUT YOUR HANDS TOGETHER FOR THE YELLOW PLAYER!!!”
The cheering continues its jarring drone and the clown waves the tops of his fingers at you in a coochy-coo manner.
“HI YELLOW PLAYER … HEYA … HOWS MY YELLOW PLAYER HOLDING UP?? I HOPE YOUR NOT CLAUSTROPHOBIC!!”
He rolls his eyes in an exaggerated way.
“BECAUSE YOU ARE MY GUEST ON THE BESTEST GAME-SHOW EVER TO GRACE GOD’S GREEN EARTH. We got guns, knives, grenades … we got robbers, jocks and fighter pilots … we got so much for you to play with … WELCOME YELLOW PLAYER!!! WELCOME TO MY HOUSE OF SSSLAUGHTER!!!”
There is calliope music that begins to play in a wonky way as its exaperated and muted notes compete with the hellish high-pitched voices of the youthful audience. The camera pans back now and you can see that this clown is certainly middle-aged but has a certain limber quality to his movements. Around him lie large objects of primary colors set onto a white background.
He takes a great deep exaggerated breath while he makes time for a dramatic pause. Then rapidly leans back to his uncomortable close up to mumble:
“this is a game show where you are a contestant and so in order to make it to the final round all you gotta do I collect the six items on your scavenger list that are hidden somewhere on the playing field below… should be easy right, should be a walk in the park?? Well you gotta ask yerself if you have what it takes… go ahead ASK, DO I the FUCKING YELLOW PLAYER have what it takes to see THIS THROUGH??”
“I SURE FUCKING HOPE SO!!! fer yer sssake. I am the one that not only brought you here but essentially created you, I am you’re alpha and I am gunna be your omega so you see you oughta just stick with me and trust me your gunna have a GRAND! OLD! TIME!!”
His face has bursted into an intimidating excitement and he inhales again exageratively.
“So yer gunna be a good contestant and stick to the game and give us a good show right?? Yer gunna play this thing through like a fucking shakesperean comi-tragedy right to the fucking last scene getting them all in stitches, huh?? Yer gunna sing and scream bloody murder all night long??”
It is during this brief pause that you notice the children have stopped their incessant drone but you are not certain for how long it has been dropped.
“ALRIGHT, WERE BACK!!”
The children’s chorus of pain begins sounding again assaulting your ears from either side.
“OKAY, WELL WE HAVE GONE OVER ALL THE RULES AND THERE IS ONLY ONE THING TO ASK …”
The children and the clown scream in an ear-drum battering unison
“ARE … YOU ... READY???”
The final word is left with a pause lasting longer than the previous pauses in this conversation. You have a sick feeling in the bottom of your stomach as you feel you are being watched.
The television has grown silent and motionless besides the clown’s subtle sway and blinks. The pneumatic tube hisses and continues to slide in its downward motion. Your pulse throbs from the center of your chest and outward pressing at the very things strapping you in.
What do you do?
Monday, May 3, 2010
COMMERCIAL BREAK
"WE WILL MEET YELLOW PLAYER AFTER A WORD FROM OUR SPONSORS"
*CLIP FROM OLD COWBOY AND INDIAN MOVIE, HORSEBACK GUN-BATTLE*
*GUNSHOT SOUNDS*
"CAN YOU PUT A PRICE ON HUMAN LIFE?
HOW ABOUT ONE BULLET??
ONE BULLET IS ALL IT TAKES TO SAVE A LIFE.
ONE BULLET CAN MEAN THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN LIFE AND DEATH
WHY RISK RUNNING OUT?
WHY EVER RUN AT ALL?
YOU CAN NEVER HAVE TOO MUCH AMMO
IF YOU NEED SOME AMMO AND YOU NEED IT PRONTO
THEN LOOK FOR THE VENDING MACHINE NAMED 'EL BANDITO'"
*CLIP FROM DIRTY HARRY*
*GUNSHOT SOUNDS*
*WORDS ON SCREEN: 'EL BANDITO'*
*MUSICAL JINGLE ON OUTDATED KEYBOARD WITH FEMALE POP VOICES RE-ITERATING THE NAME*
"A WOMAN THINKS A MAN'S GUN SURE IS NEATO
SO GET YOURSELF A BIG ONE AT 'EL BANDITO'"
BLUE TUBE
“HO, HO, HO!! DIDN’T I TELL YOU HE WAS A KNOCKOUT KIDS?? DIDN’T I TELL YOU?!?”
The cheer of the hell-choir forces your teeth into a gnash only fueling your anger.
“YOU LOOK READY ENOUGH TO ME!!”
And with that you feel your ecasement shudder and you feel of a sickly light weight as you feel your blood shift upward.
The T.V. switches back to ‘please stand by…’ and in this moment you feel a great come-down. Like the removal of some awakening force from your body. Perhaps it’s that the clown is gone, maybe the cheering, or maybe it’s because you feel like attention has been drawn elsewhere.
The quiet returns but this time your mind races with thoughts. It’s as if each moment is the only to cling to so your mind is actively sweeping it till the point of familiarity. The tube around you still shuddering and hissing your ears can barely pick up new music on the radio of this small but imposing television.
The cheer of the hell-choir forces your teeth into a gnash only fueling your anger.
“YOU LOOK READY ENOUGH TO ME!!”
And with that you feel your ecasement shudder and you feel of a sickly light weight as you feel your blood shift upward.
The T.V. switches back to ‘please stand by…’ and in this moment you feel a great come-down. Like the removal of some awakening force from your body. Perhaps it’s that the clown is gone, maybe the cheering, or maybe it’s because you feel like attention has been drawn elsewhere.
The quiet returns but this time your mind races with thoughts. It’s as if each moment is the only to cling to so your mind is actively sweeping it till the point of familiarity. The tube around you still shuddering and hissing your ears can barely pick up new music on the radio of this small but imposing television.
WELCOME GREEN PLAYER!!
The T.V. screen blips and then cuts to black for a split second. This drastic change causes your body to spam and your mind to draw to immediate attention. Your vision is now consumed with the image of an entire audience of children screaming with excitement. The high-pitch of their fervor is enough to pierce your ears and cause your face to a grimace. Panning into the screen, in an unnaturally close close-up, you see a jubilant face painted like a clown brandishing a large and toothy smile.
“HI KIDDOS!! YOU KNOW WHAT TIME IT IS??”
The children heighten the sharpness of their cheers.
“THAT’S RIGHT … PSYCHO BILLY’S HOUSE OF SLAUGHTER!!!”
As you brace yourself for more audible impact the children’s cheering is nearly unbearable for you.
“ALL RIGHT KIDDOS, BRACE YOURSELVES! AND GIVE A BIG WARM WELCOME TO THE GREEN PLAYER!!”
The cheering continues its jarring drone and the clown waves the tops of his fingers at you in a coochy-coo manner.
“HI GREEN PLAYER … HEYA … pft … LOOK AT THIS GUY, ASLEEP BEHIND THE WHEEL, HE HAS NO IDEA WHATS GOING ON!!”
He rolls his eyes in an exaggerated way.
“WAKE UP!! YOU’RE HERE, ON THE BESTEST GAME-SHOW EVER TO GRACE GOD’S GREEN EARTH. No need to dream my friend, all that you were meant for is right fucking here … WELCOME GREEN PLAYER!!! WELCOME TO MY HOUSE OF SSSLAUGHTER!!!”
There is calliope music that begins to play in a wonky way as its exaperated and muted notes compete with the hellish high-pitched voices of the youthful audience. The camera pans back now and you can see that this clown is certainly middle-aged but has a certain limber quality to his movements. Around him lie large objects of primary colors set onto a white background.
“WE WILL BE BACK KIDDO’S AND WE WILL SEE IF WE CAN FINALLY AWAKE THE GREEN PLAYER!”
He takes a great deep exaggerated breath while he makes time for a dramatic pause. Then rapidly leans back to his uncomortable close up to mumble:
“only gunna say this once green player, so LISTEN THE FUCK UP!! This IS the end times my friend and your very soul is at stake, you are a PAWN on the very CHESS BOARD OF THE GODS!!! And if you wanna get through this you are gunna have to finish your chores, OTHERWISE YOU’LL BE GROUNDED … like for life, IN A BOX!!!”
“deep in your pocket you have a list. each item on that list is somewhere down the the hell you are heading towards. Get those items and I will set you free. Get those items and I will bring you to me. AND FOR THE GODS SAKE DON’T DILLY-DALLY!!!”
“WANNA CLAIM WHATS YOURS?? YOUR VERY FUCKING BIRTH-RIGHT FOR BEING THE BEAST THAT YOU ARE?!? LIKE THOSE ONE-THOUSAND FOOLS WHO FOLLOWED THE BATTFIELD, TO! THEIR! ENDS! AND THE END OF ALL!! THINGS!!!?!?”
“GOOD!! I SURE FUCKING HOPE SO!!! fer yer sssake. I am the one that not only brought you here but essentially created you, I am you’re alpha and I am gunna be your omega so you see you oughta just stick with me and trust me your gunna have a GRAND! OLD! TIME!!”
His face has bursted into an intimidating excitement and he inhales again exageratively.
“So yer gunna be a good contestant and stick to the game and give us a good show right?? Yer gunna play this thing through like a fucking shakesperean comi-tragedy right to the fucking last scene getting them all in stitches, huh?? Yer gunna sing and scream bloody murder all night long??”
It is during this brief pause that you notice the children have stopped their incessant drone but you are not certain for how long it has been dropped.
“HEH HAH!! WE FINALLY GOT THE GREEN PLAYER AWAKE!! ALRIGHT, WERE BACK!!”
The children’s chorus of pain begins sounding again assaulting your ears from either side.
“OKAY, WELL WE HAVE GONE OVER ALL THE RULES AND THERE IS ONLY ONE THING TO ASK …”
The children and the clown scream in an ear-drum battering unison
“ARE … YOU ... READY???”
The final word is left with a pause lasting longer than the previous pauses in this conversation. You have a sick feeling in the bottom of your stomach as you feel you are being watched.
The television has grown silent and motionless besides the clown’s subtle sway and blinks. The pneumatic tube hisses and continues to slide in its downward motion. Your pulse throbs from the center of your chest and outward pressing at the very things strapping you in.
What do you do?
“HI KIDDOS!! YOU KNOW WHAT TIME IT IS??”
The children heighten the sharpness of their cheers.
“THAT’S RIGHT … PSYCHO BILLY’S HOUSE OF SLAUGHTER!!!”
As you brace yourself for more audible impact the children’s cheering is nearly unbearable for you.
“ALL RIGHT KIDDOS, BRACE YOURSELVES! AND GIVE A BIG WARM WELCOME TO THE GREEN PLAYER!!”
The cheering continues its jarring drone and the clown waves the tops of his fingers at you in a coochy-coo manner.
“HI GREEN PLAYER … HEYA … pft … LOOK AT THIS GUY, ASLEEP BEHIND THE WHEEL, HE HAS NO IDEA WHATS GOING ON!!”
He rolls his eyes in an exaggerated way.
“WAKE UP!! YOU’RE HERE, ON THE BESTEST GAME-SHOW EVER TO GRACE GOD’S GREEN EARTH. No need to dream my friend, all that you were meant for is right fucking here … WELCOME GREEN PLAYER!!! WELCOME TO MY HOUSE OF SSSLAUGHTER!!!”
There is calliope music that begins to play in a wonky way as its exaperated and muted notes compete with the hellish high-pitched voices of the youthful audience. The camera pans back now and you can see that this clown is certainly middle-aged but has a certain limber quality to his movements. Around him lie large objects of primary colors set onto a white background.
“WE WILL BE BACK KIDDO’S AND WE WILL SEE IF WE CAN FINALLY AWAKE THE GREEN PLAYER!”
He takes a great deep exaggerated breath while he makes time for a dramatic pause. Then rapidly leans back to his uncomortable close up to mumble:
“only gunna say this once green player, so LISTEN THE FUCK UP!! This IS the end times my friend and your very soul is at stake, you are a PAWN on the very CHESS BOARD OF THE GODS!!! And if you wanna get through this you are gunna have to finish your chores, OTHERWISE YOU’LL BE GROUNDED … like for life, IN A BOX!!!”
“deep in your pocket you have a list. each item on that list is somewhere down the the hell you are heading towards. Get those items and I will set you free. Get those items and I will bring you to me. AND FOR THE GODS SAKE DON’T DILLY-DALLY!!!”
“WANNA CLAIM WHATS YOURS?? YOUR VERY FUCKING BIRTH-RIGHT FOR BEING THE BEAST THAT YOU ARE?!? LIKE THOSE ONE-THOUSAND FOOLS WHO FOLLOWED THE BATTFIELD, TO! THEIR! ENDS! AND THE END OF ALL!! THINGS!!!?!?”
“GOOD!! I SURE FUCKING HOPE SO!!! fer yer sssake. I am the one that not only brought you here but essentially created you, I am you’re alpha and I am gunna be your omega so you see you oughta just stick with me and trust me your gunna have a GRAND! OLD! TIME!!”
His face has bursted into an intimidating excitement and he inhales again exageratively.
“So yer gunna be a good contestant and stick to the game and give us a good show right?? Yer gunna play this thing through like a fucking shakesperean comi-tragedy right to the fucking last scene getting them all in stitches, huh?? Yer gunna sing and scream bloody murder all night long??”
It is during this brief pause that you notice the children have stopped their incessant drone but you are not certain for how long it has been dropped.
“HEH HAH!! WE FINALLY GOT THE GREEN PLAYER AWAKE!! ALRIGHT, WERE BACK!!”
The children’s chorus of pain begins sounding again assaulting your ears from either side.
“OKAY, WELL WE HAVE GONE OVER ALL THE RULES AND THERE IS ONLY ONE THING TO ASK …”
The children and the clown scream in an ear-drum battering unison
“ARE … YOU ... READY???”
The final word is left with a pause lasting longer than the previous pauses in this conversation. You have a sick feeling in the bottom of your stomach as you feel you are being watched.
The television has grown silent and motionless besides the clown’s subtle sway and blinks. The pneumatic tube hisses and continues to slide in its downward motion. Your pulse throbs from the center of your chest and outward pressing at the very things strapping you in.
What do you do?
Sunday, May 2, 2010
GREEN PLAYER: Finally...
Always the same dream.
Some call it judgment day, Day of one billion souls. Ragnarok.
I stand over my vanquished enemies. Slain. Dismembered. Heads arranged neatly in preparation for the sacrifice to Odin. And I see him smiling down at me. Chuckling in that diabolically heinous way. Was this really a dream. No. The prophecy.
They say the Gods of Destruction will send their heroes in many forms.
The fat man at the mall. The little girl in the park. My father.
They say it is the duty of the Jotunn to desecrate these bastards in the name of Loki.
This weakens the power of the gods so that we may finally persevere with our war.
They say I'm insane. This is all some kind of schizophrenic delusion created in my subconscious to give me a legitimate reason to kill innocents.
But he has made me realize the truth.
This is my last objective.
This is what I must do.
That laugh. That fucking laugh.
He won't be laughing when my hands rip his head from his spine and carve up his skull for one last offering.
These restraints will not hold me long.
Odin's assassin has called me out.
This will be my finest hour.
But why the fuck did he have to send a clown.
Creepy fuckers those clowns are.
Some call it judgment day, Day of one billion souls. Ragnarok.
I stand over my vanquished enemies. Slain. Dismembered. Heads arranged neatly in preparation for the sacrifice to Odin. And I see him smiling down at me. Chuckling in that diabolically heinous way. Was this really a dream. No. The prophecy.
They say the Gods of Destruction will send their heroes in many forms.
The fat man at the mall. The little girl in the park. My father.
They say it is the duty of the Jotunn to desecrate these bastards in the name of Loki.
This weakens the power of the gods so that we may finally persevere with our war.
They say I'm insane. This is all some kind of schizophrenic delusion created in my subconscious to give me a legitimate reason to kill innocents.
But he has made me realize the truth.
This is my last objective.
This is what I must do.
That laugh. That fucking laugh.
He won't be laughing when my hands rip his head from his spine and carve up his skull for one last offering.
These restraints will not hold me long.
Odin's assassin has called me out.
This will be my finest hour.
But why the fuck did he have to send a clown.
Creepy fuckers those clowns are.
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"So if you see the Vulture coming, he's flying circles in your mind, remember there is no escaping for he will follow close behind. Only promised me a battle, battle for your soul and mine." Gil Scott-Heron - The Vulture
