Ghosts, goblins, ghouls and butts that fart in the night are scary.

Haunted houses and graveyards in the blackest of black nights...scary.

Your mom, 3am, loudly snoring, hair a rat's nest...scary.

Your dad, 4 bowls of chili or 4-alarm Thai food and 5 bottles of beer...scary.

 

 

10 little costumed toddlers squeaking out,

"Trick or treat!"....scary...NOT !!

You handing them all dental floss...whoa,  WTF?!

Scary...and scarier still if they thank you politely

and walk away like 10 little dumbfounded zombies.

 

Think nothing scares you or your friends?

Think again! Let the dreadfully frightful Halloween horrors begin...

 

(Warning: These horrors are a bit off-the-wall or "out there." Some audiences will approve. Some will more than approve. Others will scratch their own heads in confusion and/or consternation.)

 

 

Your name is Mel. As in Gibson.

You arrive alone in Jerusalem. You notice a large number of your Jewish "fans" have arrived to greet you at the airport. You learn they were just forced to watch your drunken ramblings about them 50 times in a row. You are wearing a child's beanie hat that looks much like a yarmulka / kippa, only it has a spinny thing on it, you just spun it and now it looks like you are purposefully poking fun at them.

You are Botox.

Need we say more?! =p You are injected everywhere bodies want to be wrinkle-free. You don't even get to wear a condom for your own protection.

Rosie O'Donnell shows up at your doorstep.

She moves in and makes you her new BFF. It's a horrific reality show that lasts for nearly one "season." Rosie moves out and writes a new tell-all book. You play a big part in it. You told her everything. She didn't even leave you one skeleton in your closet. Not even a knee joint or a bone fragment.

You've just been reincarnated.

As a living, breathing, stinking, disgusting...toilet bowl...in a port-a-potty with no air freshener, no ventilation for the fumes, no sanitary hand wash and a limited supply of toilet paper. Hundreds of people at an outdoor chili, bean and cheese festival "use" you.  It's at least five days of odors permeating and contents ripening before you are emptied and cleaned...only to be dropped off at another site for much the same fate, over and over and over again until the company "dumps" you for the latest, greatest new model.

You are Britney Spears's dwindling brain cells.

Meet liquor. Liquor meet brain cells. See Britney bang head on own career. Gasp for air. Can't...breathe. Losing...power. Can't...go...on. Must...go...on. See Britney do the Macarena in a dive bar. See the 275-pound bouncer dance better. Grab bottle and go brain dead --- one brain cell at a time!

Carrot Top is the last man on Earth.

You are the last woman. You must procreate. It takes you 38 months to get pregnant. You spin...er, do...the Carrot Top an average of five times a day for 38 months. Due to a scientific anomaly that some (if they were still alive) blame at least partially on global warming, your pregnancy lasts 24.5 months. You gained 100 pounds with your pregnancy. You never lose the weight, but gain at least 30 more pounds each year thereafter, plus another 100 pounds for each future child. None of it is in breast size. Suddenly, 10 years later, you find out Carrot Top wasn't the last man on Earth.....and he knew it all along. There were really two men on Earth. The second was Johnny Depp, Orlando Bloom or some other hot Hollywood celeb. By the time you learn this and meet up with the second, you're 550-1,000 or more pounds.

You've turned into your mother...or your father.

But you were the opposite sex. And now, you really are, your mother...or your father. Same haircut. Same voice. Same mannerisms. Same salary. Same habits. Same sexual relations. Yes, you are doing your father...or your mother. And now this also means you know what their sex life is or was like. What could be more scary than this firsthand knowledge?! (Seriously, the stork had nothing to do with you showing up. It's about time you learned that! But there are better ways to learn that than to turn into your own parents!)

You are a bag of groceries.

32 days past your expiration date. You're tossed carelessly into a dumpster where maggots, flies and bees congregate. You smell something. You're not sure if it's you, the smell of teen spirit and used condoms or if there's actually a dead body in that dumpster with you. You wonder if you killed the person because it might have been a dumpster diver looking for food and you know you're well past your expiration date. A police dog sniffs you out......

I am rubber and you are glue.

Everything sticks to you. =p So, I should probably warn you....Freddy Kruger just bounced off me and is coming for you. Run. Run now. You can't even escape him in dreams, because you are glue. Glue never sleeps.

You are tact, tastefulness, modesty and intelligence.

You're trapped by ego and a life of privilege, bound and gagged inside the minds of one of those young Hollywood celebs who can't keep out of trouble, rehab,  jail, sex tapes...or all four! Those missing undergarments? They're only missing because they're being used to bind and gag you. They're granny panties. Literally. Granny panties from 1937, previously worn by your own granny, 3 orphaned monkeys with persistent diarrhea at an animal rescue shelter, 1.75 homeless people and that uncle or male cousin you've always wondered about. Obviously, you (tact, tastefulness, modesty and intelligence) never had a chance!

A dog show and dog breeding convention comes to town.

There are 5,342 purebred dogs in town. No leashes. No restraints. No trees. Only one fire hydrant. You're it. =p

Those are only just a handful of new dreadfully frightful nightmares and Halloween horrors.

Turn out the lights, get out the cauldron and

scare yourself by imagining a few of your own this Halloween!

 

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