Of course, when my only child says, "Do you want to hear a scary story?" I have to say, "Sure," because I never know when they're going to be truly blog worthy. (Far be it for me not to steal material from my onliest offspring.) And what do you know, this one was.
So here goes:
Once, there was a dark, dark night.
|See. She was talking really pitch black. I mean, there could be|
lions, tigers, and bears about to eat your ass right there and
YOU WOULD NOT KNOW. Just sayin'.
|"And there weren't any red eyes, Mommy," the peanut gallery|
just announced. So much for artistic inventiveness.
|There, the creeping, crawling thing from some one's hand. Somewhere,|
someone is going, "Now, where did my hand go? I mean, I just had it."
|I suspect I have gone away from the original intent of this story, but|
I don't care. Shouldn't this be like some kind of funky
Christmas Story? I mean, the hand could lick a metal pole or
something? (Only for Christmas Story fans.)
|Cressy actually demonstrated on ME. Her hand was the disembodied|
hand while my hand was the innocent victim. And I couldn't get away
because I was the designated character to be savagely mauled
by the creepy hand.
|I couldn't put a goatee on one to be the 'evil' one a la Star Trek, so|
I settled with blue fingernail polish. It's the 'new' goatee.
|I love the evil scientist laugh.|
Blogging is so much fun.
Incidentally, The Hand (1981) does star Michael Caine. And is directed by...OLIVER FREAKIN' STONE. Obviously before Platoon. I swear Cressy has never seen this movie.
And in conclusion, it dawns on me, as often things do, that I've neglected the possible Christmas connotations therein. (What Christmas connotations you say?) Here ya go. (I'm so twisted.)