188 lines
11 KiB
Plaintext
188 lines
11 KiB
Plaintext
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T ||==\\ || || ||==\\ ||==|| || || B L E N D E R C O R P O R A T I O N
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|| || || || || || || \\ // ------------------------------------
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H || || || || ||==// ||=|| >|< >>> Presents <<<
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|| || || || || \\ || // \\ MONKEYPW.DBC
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E ||==// \\==// || \\ ||==|| || || #026-FH01 -- [10/07/92]
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______________________________________________________________________________
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Fishead presents:
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My retelling of the horror classic -
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THE MONKEY'S PAW.
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-------------------------------------------------------------------
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Once in a small Vermont town named Munguwuppanog, there lived a very
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poor, but very happy family. The father was once a Chippendale's dancer with
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dreams of making it big in Hollywood,but a farming accident reduced him to a
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near cripple. Even so,he held on to his dreams. In fact, he spent all his
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free time studying to be an Elvis impersonator. His wife had to give up her
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carreer as a kickboxer to devote all her time to taking care of her husband
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and the farm. Now, their only income came from their nineteen year old son,
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who had dropped out of high school to take a job at Dunkin' Donuts, operating
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a machine that punched the holes in the doughnuts.
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It was a friday night, the family had just finished playing Pictionary,
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and they were gathering by the piano for their traditional friday night
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family sing-along, when there came a knock on the door. Munguwuppanog was a
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very secluded town, and its citzens usually kept to themselves if they could
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help it. Visitors were very rare. Father figured it was either a census taker
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or a tax collector. He got his hunting rifle out of the closet and answered
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the door. It turned out to be an old blind soldier with a tin can collecting
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for the new Veteran's hospital.
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The father was getting ready to shoot the man and rob him of his money
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when the old man yelled "Wait! I have something in my pocket that is much
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more valuable to you than what's in this tin can." He reached into his jacket
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pocket and pulled out a dirty white handkerchief. He unfolded the
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handkerchief to reveal a shriveled up, mummified monkey's paw.
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He explained, "It had a spell put on it by an old lady. She gave it to
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me, right before she was convicted of witchcraft. She told me that it had the
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power to grant three wishes to one man. I have not used it, and have kept it
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a secret from the world until now. I have a strong belief in fate and that
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those who try to alter its course eventually wind up doomed. But no matter
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how strong my religion, I refuse to believe that it is my destiny to be
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pumped full of lead by a backwoods inbred redneck, so I'll give you this paw,
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in exchange for my life."
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The Father took the paw and slammed the door in the old man's face. He
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abruptly cancelled the friday night family sing-along and called a family
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meeting. He showed his family the paw and related the old man's story. He
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then held the paw in the air, rubbed it, and said "Please give me two million
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dollars." He thought that he saw the paw came to life for one second and snap
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its small fingers, but he figured it was just his imagination.
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The three sat in silence for an hour, waiting for something to happen.
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The father finally gave up and went to bed. He cursed himself for being so
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stupid and gullible, and he cursed his parents for being first cousins.
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When he woke up the next morning, his son had already left for his job at
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the doughnut shop. Before getting out of bed, he checked under the pillows,
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just in case. He found nothing.
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So the father and mother wasted away another afternoon studying the art
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of elvis and waiting for their son to come home with his paycheck. Around
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four o'clock, there was a knock at the door.
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"That's peculiar," said Mom. "The doughnut shop doesn't close until seven
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on weekends, and he has his own set of housekeys. There must be something
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wrong."
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Sure enough, the man at the door was not her son, it was his boss. With
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a very grave expression he said, "I regret to be the one to have to tell you
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this, but there was a tragic accident involving the new doughnut maker today.
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Your son is dead. It seems he fell into the machine that stuffs the jelly
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into the jelly doughnuts. The machine tried, somewhat succesfully, to stuff
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your son into a jelly doughnut. It took us a few hours to discover what had
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happened... We recovered about sixty percent of his body intact, and we
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immediately pulled all the jelly doughnuts off the shelf."
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He continued to speak, "You must understand that Dunkin' Donuts is in no
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way liable for this occurance, but on behalf of Dunkin Donuts, I'd like to
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present you with this check for two million dollars, as compensation for your
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loss. You must understand, if you accept this check, you cannot in the future
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file a lawsuit or alert the press."
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They accepted the check in horror. Three days later, they buried the
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remains of their son in the local graveyard. They recovered most of his upper
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body intact. He was missing his left fore-arm and three fingers on his right
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hand. They only recovered half his skull, thus they could only find one of
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his contact lenses. His body had been completley bi-sected at the waist, and
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the two halves were held together by only his large intestine, which had
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uncoiled itself to the length of twelve feet. His legs were an indecipherable
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mass of broken bones, held together by patches of skin. They figured the
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rest of him lay somewhere inside the weekend's jelly doughnuts, so they
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bought all of them (they numbered almost six dozen). With their newfound
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wealth, they bought him a tuxedo to be buried in so he wouldn't be naked.
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They tried their hardest to dress him, shoveled the bloody pulp that was
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their son into a coffin, placed the six dozen doughnuts next to him, nailed
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it shut, said a prayer, and buried him.
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Weeks passed without much incident... The husband and wife were having so
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much fun spending their money that they nearly forgot that they ever HAD a
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son. But soon they came to realize that the only thing their money couldn't
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do was bring their son back to life. They had completley forgotten about the
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monkey's paw until their new maid uncovered it one day while house cleaning.
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Upon hearing about the discovery, the father immediately cancelled his
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plans for the day and called a family meating. They all voted to see if they
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should use the paw to bring their son back to life. As usual, the father and
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mother voted against each other, but the son was no longer around to offer
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the tie-breaking vote. So they reasoned that the only way around the
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political gridlock was to use the paw, resurrect their son, and get his vote.
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The only other solution would be to give birth to a child, so that it could
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offer the decisive vote -- but they would have to wait 9 months, and dead
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bodies don't last that long, and neither do jelly doughnuts. Besides, if they
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DID decide to resurrect their son, there would then be 4 voters at family
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meetings, and that would just spell more political gridlock in the future.
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They decided to go with their first plan.
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So the father rubbed the paw and spoke aloud, "Please,if you can hear me,
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please return our son to us." This time, the monkey's paw snapped its small
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fingers two times. They sat on the couch and waited all day in silence. After
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a while, they got bored, so they watched a Brady Bunch marathon on
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television. They soon became lost in the rich storylines and complicated
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subplots. They seriously contemplated using the monkey paw's third and final
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wish to turn them into Bradys.
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It was near midnight, they were watching the episode where Marsha
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swallows the football. That was when they first heard it... The noise. Just
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as Marsha was about to scream "Ooooh my nose!", they heard a noise coming
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from somewhere outside. They turned off the television and listened. It was
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not the light footsteps on gravel they expected to hear..... it was a low
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slithering sound, mixed with a hideous crunching noise, and underscored by a
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strange slurpiness and a bizzare rolling noise that could only be made by a
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blown tire or by half a skull. The father courageously peeked out the window,
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and he could see a dark, mangled, shapeless shadow slowly creeping its way up
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the road and taking a turn at the front gate. He screamed, pulled down the
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shade, and jumped behind the sofa with his wife. The awful dragging noise
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continued, and gained in speed and momentum, until it was only inches from
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the front door.
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There was a minute's silence as the blob on the front steps patientley
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waited for his mother and father to fling the door open wide and attack their
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son with a barrage of hugs and kisses. He wondered if it was too late to play
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a game of charades with him. Of Course! Thats why they weren't coming out to
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greet him! It was nearly midnight and they fell asleep on the couch waiting.
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Oh how he hated to wake them. But he missed them so! He awkwardly raised a
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boney protrusion that was probably once part of his spine.
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THUMP.... THUMP.... THUMP.... He loudly knocked three times.
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There was no answer...his parents just held each other in fear.
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THUMP.... THUMP.... THUMP.... He tried again, but still they didn't hear
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him.
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He was getting very annoyed. He gathered strength as he prepared to
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unleash one final onlaught of knocks.
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THUMP.... THUMP.... THUMP.... THUMP.... THUMP.... THUMP.... (they became
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louder and more rhythmic) THUMP! THUMP! THUMP! THUMP! THUMP! THUMP! THUMP!
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THUMP!
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The mother was in hysterics. The father could stand it no longer. He
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grabbed the monkey's paw and screamed "MAKE THAT NOISE GO AWAY!!! MAKE
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HIM GO AWAY FOREVER!!!!!"
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The monkey's paw snapped three times and disappeared, along with the
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geletinous blob on their front steps that was once their son. They both fell
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asleep in front of the television, watching the Brady Bunch. They had tried
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to make themselves believe that the whole ordeal was only a bad dream, but
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this was impossible, for the next morning they discovered that their son had
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left behind a 2 inch thick trail of grape jelly, leading from their front
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steps down the country road to places unknown.
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THE END
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______________________________________________________________________________
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(C)1992 by Fishead and The Durex Blender Corporation
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All Rights Available at the Door. No Reservations.
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Q: How many Surrealists does it take to screw in a lightbulb?
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A: The Fish!
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The Durex Blender Corporation : Boston (617) 696-8156 - 24oo/8N1 - 24 hours
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