Bring your flashlight for a spooky day of ghost stories, as a new host carries on the family tradition.
With your host, Leighton “Lance” Boils Happy Halloween, campers! Uncle Flurnston couldn’t host this year, but he told me to say hello and thanks for all the nice cards and cigarettes. Now I’m not into smoking jackets and wood paneling, so instead I’m gonna rock ya by the campfire with my favorite ghost stories! But first, let’s roast these spooky links:
Good to see you again, fear fans. I wouldn’t be sticking my neck out to predict tonight’s tale will send chills all the way up your spine. It’s a psychological thriller I call… Stretch of the Imagination.
Frantically, Louise scrolled through the vast medical dictionary. Strange maladies and their treatments blurred past her eyes as she searched for the name of her nameless dread. At last, she found it: Camelopardophobia — the fear of being watched by a giraffe.
A wave of relief washed over her. Then there might be a treatment, a therapy, that could help her cope. So great was her euphoria that she didn’t hear her mistress breeze through the door after a day of shopping. “Lou-eee-eeze,” she trilled, “you won’t believe what I bought you for half off at the Toys ‘R’ Us liquidation sale!”
Photo of Mrs. Hattie Perkins and the looming giraffe of doom, Zarafa, from sender-inner JEC. (Flurnston photo: Marcello il mostro, by akk_rus, licensed under CC BY 2.0)
Introduced as usual by Flurnston Boils, who has a sure thing in the fifth at Santa Anita
For our final 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.
Introduced as usual by Flurnston Boils, who owes some people money
I find the entertainment at most children’s parties to be rather tedious, but this party clown will make you laugh your head off, in an terrifying tale 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.