Flurnston Boils’ House of Horror

The Curse of the Cairo Cat!

Not That Mike The Other Mike5 Comments

Introduced once again by Flurnston Boils, who needs extra cash for Halloween candy this year

For tonight’s tale of the supernatural, we have something with a happy ending — at least from my point of view — in a story I call Ears Looking at You, Kid.

“I would suggest you handle that statue more carefully” said the voice in the doorway. Algernon turned to see Catheter, the butler, glaring at him disapprovingly. “It does not take kindly to being mistreated.”

It was a cat, smoothly carved from the purest onyx, trimmed in diamonds, with fierce ruby eyes that glared at Algernon as he returned it to the mantel. But its most striking feature was its ears, formed from solid, glittering gold.

“Picked it up in Egypt, did he?” asked Algernon, referring to their absent host. “By the way, where is old Bingy anyway? Too stuffy to attend his own house party?”

“Master Binghampton is… not quite himself today, I’m afraid,” said the butler, and was gone.

Algernon took a last look at the statue. Its beauty seemed to fix him in place, but it was the ears, the way they reflected the light of the evening sun, that fascinated him the most. He rubbed them one last time — for luck, he told himself — and returned to his room. But the next morning…

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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Tales of Tiny-toothed Terror!

Not That Mike The Other Mike9 Comments

With WQTE-TV horror host Flurnston Boils

Greetings, fright-finders. Uncle Flurnston has returned to haunt you with tales of the adorably macabre. Tonight, an enchanted pumpkin gets his first taste of life — and his last — in a story I like to call: A Carvin’ of Witch’s.

With each delicate flick of the enchanted knife in her ancient bony fingers, the old witch carved a face into the plump round pumpkin. But the witch wasn’t merely adding eyes, nose and mouth — summoning the dark power of the ancient mystic arts, she was granting the pumpkin the spark of life itself.

And within a few moments, the once lifeless gourd blinked its hollow eyes in amazement. “I’m alive!” exclaimed Jack (for what else would one name a talking pumpkin?) “How grand to be in the land of the living! But why have you summoned me here?”

“Tonight is Halloween,” explained the old crone as she placed Jack onto the floor, “and you shall occupy an esteemed place in the evening’s festivities: greeting the little ones when they visit for their annual treat.” In a moment, Jack could hear the pitter-pat of little feet approaching. Children! he thought. What fun!

“Thank you for this wondrous gift, kind woman,” said Jack. “I owe my life to you — and to your magical skills at carving.” At that, the witch grinned and a mischievous twinkle came to her eye. “Actually,” she said, “the carving isn’t quite finished… yet.“

a large group of rabbits crowds around a carved pumpkin, gnawing away at its exterior.
NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! (Reddit)

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

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The Harrowing Headless Horror!

Not That Mike The Other Mike21 Comments

Introduced by WQTE-TV horror host Flurnston Boils

Happy HELLoween, hungerers for horror! It wouldn’t be spooky season without a visit from your old Uncle Flurnston, so here’s a moldy old tale of terror I dug from the vaults titled… Terror is Served.

“What do you mean, you forgot?” shrieked Mrs. Wawa at her sheepish husband. It was the day of little Willie Wawa’s fifth birthday, and his parents were in a panic. “We’ve invited all his friends for a lavish party, and you forgot to call the caterers, put up the decorations, and hire the entertainment?! How will we get that done by tonight?”

As if to answer her frantic question, the doorbell rang. “Greetings, my name is Egghead McGee,” said the strange little man when they opened the door. “I am an itinerant jack-of-all-trades — clown, cook, and balloon artist extraordinaire — and I happened upon your lovely home in hopes you might have need of my services.”

Scarcely believing his luck, and having not read ahead to the end of this story, Mr. Wawa hired him and set him to work. Mrs. Wawa had her doubts, but when the party began, the strange little clown proved his worth. The guests laughed at his delightful antics, and his seemingly inexhaustible supply of streamers and balloons transformed the backyard into a festive funhouse.

“Now, while you pin the tail on the donkey, I will see to dinner.” And with that, he disappeared into the kitchen. The Wawas let out a sigh of relief. The day had been saved and everyone was happy, especially their beloved son… wait, where had Willie gone?

“I hope you’re all hungry!” said a voice from behind them.

And when they turned around, they saw…
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