The Devilish Dessert of Doom!

Introduced once again by Flurnston Boils, who’s a bit gassy from all the soda in the green room

Since you’ve been such good ghouls and goblins, Uncle Flurnston’s made you a special treat, filled with sugar and spice… and terror! You’ll skip dessert forever after you hear tonight’s tale of: The Half-baked Babysitter:


There was something not-quite-right about the new babysitter, Spotty thought to himself. From the sidelong glance from his sister Dotty, he knew she’d sensed it too. Maybe it was the way the tall young woman stared at them with glazed, unblinking eyes. Or maybe it was her strange dress, tattered and faded and smelling of patchouli. Perhaps it was the funny cigarette she started smoking as soon as Mom and Dad were gone.

But whatever the reason, Dotty didn’t like it and she slipped away to her safe place, leaving Spotty alone with the visitor. “It’s always the same. They always run,” said the babysitter. “But you like me, don’t you?” she said, leering at Spotty, “and so I’m going to make you a special treat.”

Spotty went out to the back porch as the strange woman busied herself in the kitchen. There was no point in trying to comfort Dotty, for he knew she preferred to be alone when she was spooked. In a little while, she would feel better, and maybe then the three of them could play. It would all work out.

“Oh, Spotty,” called the babysitter some time later, waking him from his nap. “I’m so sorry that your sister didn’t like me,” she cooed at him, “but we don’t need her anyway. That’s why I’ve baked a lovely cake for just the two of us to share.”

a dog with white fur and black spots looks at a cake in a tray with frosting that matches its pattern exactly.
Dotty! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! (Reddit)

Flurnston photo: Marcello il mostro, by akk_rus, licensed under CC BY 2.0

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The Portrait of Peril!

Introduced once again by Flurnston Boils, who vehemently denies all of the allegations mostly

Welcome, art lovers, to my gallery of horror! Our next tale of terror concerns a collector with impeccable taste — for blood. It’s a spine-curdling tale I call: Brushstroke With Terror:


“I hope your journey to my castle was uneventful,” said the dapper gentleman as he ushered his guest into the gallery. “I’m glad you could appraise the portrait here, because it must never leave this room. You see, it is very sensitive to light.”

“Why, what an uncanny resemblance,” noted the art expert. “This portrait is three hundred years old at least, and yet the subject looks just… just like…”

“Yes, I know,” said the gentleman, eyeing his guest’s neck. “It’s been in the family for generations. But then again,” he added, moving in closer, “so have I.”

Cat with very prominent front fangs sits next to a picture of himself dressed as a dapper vampire
By the way, what’s your blood type? I need to know what wine to pair with you. (Instagram)

Flurnston photo: Marcello il mostro, by akk_rus, licensed under CC BY 2.0

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Hair-Raising Tales of the Macabre!

Introduced once again by Flurnston Boils, whose Boilscoin crypto scheme didn’t quite work out

Welcome back, fright fans! In tonight’s tale of terror we meet a fussy customer who’s about to have a bone to pick with her hairdresser. It’s a cutting-edge story I like to call A Little Off the Top:


Mimsy Mufflefluff was a glamorous cat, vain and proud. She was covered head to tail in long flowing white fur that she groomed constantly. So when her husband Tom casually remarked “Looks like your fur’s a bit uneven on one side, dear” she rushed herself to the nearest salon.

“Just even it out,” she demanded, and the hairdresser set to work. He was a strange lanky man, with spindly fingers and an eye that kept twitching, but he worked quickly and presented her with a mirror. “Oh, no!” she gasped, “you took off too much and now the other side’s too long. Fix it!” And all that afternoon and into the evening, the hairdresser tried to satisfy her demands, until…

“Oh, Thomas,” cooed Mimsy later that night. “Come and see! Am I perfect now?”

a cat looks at a decorative cat skeleton
Actually, I think your left front femur’s a bit longer than the other… (Tumblr)
a cat looks at itself in a mirror and touches its ear with its paw.

Flurnston photo: Marcello il mostro, by akk_rus, licensed under CC BY 2.0

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Dead Tired

You know, being a homicidal maniac can be a demanding hobby. You’re running around in the woods, chasing camp counselors in the middle of the night — and those kids can really book, too. So it’s good to come home, put your feet up, and cuddle with the one friend who really understands me.

On a porch chair, a black cat curls up on the lap of a mannequin dressed as horror film character Michael Myers holding a knife.
For starters, we both enjoy slashing things. (Reddit)
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