This is a very funny story!

This is a very funny story!

The following two stories were written by my best friend David many years ago. I keep them on this site out of fear of losing them to the deep depths of the internet. I suppose there is no harm in sharing them with all of you, even though he probably prefers I didn't, that's what friends are for :)

The Day of Reckoning

During the whole of the dull, dark, and soundless day in the autumn of the year, when the clouds hung oppressively low in the heavens, I had been passing alone through a singularly dreary tract of country, and at length found myself, as the shades of the evening drew near, within view of the melancholy House of Becker. I know not how it was-- but at the first glimpse of the building, a sense of insufferable gloom pervaded my spirit. I gazed upon the scene lain before me-upon the mere house, and the simple landscape features of the domain--upon the bleak walls--upon the vacant eye-like windows--upon the few rank hedges, with an utter depression of soul which I can compare to no earthly sensation . There was an iciness, a sinking, a sickening of the heart--an unredeemed dreariness of thought, which no goading of the imagination could torture into aught of the sublime. What was it, I pause to think, that so unnerved me in the contemplation of the House of Becker? An ominous cloud hung over my thoughts and every step were taken with more precaution than if I was being haunted by Lucifer as I entered the front chamber door.
The evening passed with the still tranquility of conversation and laughter; yet, in the back of my mind, there was a stagnant enigma which agitated my mind. Why was I waiting for Death to sway his scythe and end my existence forever when there was no rational reason for such thoughts? Then, as I excused myself from the company of my friends to take a stroll and try to ease the tension of my worried mind, I realized something. The small feline, entitled Faux Claude, was stricken with horror in the corner of the eerie room, pale and motionless. As I attempted to move near the animal and dislodge it from its peculiar state, I sensed something amiss. My face agonizingly wrung itself into a gruesome contorted shape reserved for the occasion of absolute and utter disgust. A strange and perverse noise came to my ears like that of a sledgehammer hitting an apple.
an involuntary shiver ran up and down my body. I started to perspire and felt my form turn an icy cold. At once I came to realize my darkest of dark nightmare had come to ... Released from the depths of oblivion , Brock had farted! Then the wave of putrid hell hit my nostrils. I was thrown like a rag doll against the wall and my clothing was torn to tatters. A green hue clung to my skin and the very flesh of my outer layer began to decay and fester. Horrific screams of terror and revoltion could be heard in the background as I tore through the hallway en route for the lavatory. Tears welt up in my eyes and seamed to dissipate immediately from the hot and muggy atmosphere set upon by the rancid stench, not much unlike that of a rainforest with an oddly high temperature--how I yearned to be like those tears and elude this vile seepage of insanity.
Reaching the entrance of the restroom, I grasped the handle and hurriedly shut the door securely closed. Grasping the closest towel I commenced to block any airway and impede the stench from penetrating the outer walls of my newfound sanctum. Hindering the Unholy putridness, I began to regain my former composure. Striving to formulate a strategy I came recalled my nearby acquaintance had in his possession an impenetrable bomb-shelter with an airtight hatch and ventilation system. If I could reach it there would be a chance of surviving in seclusion for a few months then may haps migrate to a higher elevation. As I worked out all the details of my escape, including trying to find a suitable female as to repopulate the soon-to-be barren earth, my eye gave a reflexive flinch. Instinct drew my attention to the towel-covered door. To my disgust I found the towels had been decayed and a thick olive-colored fog began to creep into the vicinity of my sanctuary. All hope lost, I sporadically did the first thought that came to mind. Grabbing a razor from the medicine cabinet, I slit my wrist. The beautiful blackness of unconsciousness began to overcome me. As I succumbed to the embracement of death, a smile spread itself over my face, and knowing wherever I may go in the afterlife, The raw horror of Brocks Fart will not pursue me.

For Those Of You Who Dont Know These People (My Mom and her friend Laurel) This might not be as funny for you.... BUT STILL READ IT YOU SCUM!David made this story so you know its good!

P.S. David means no offense to the individuals in this story.....

except carrie...

thank you!

This is a story about hopes, dreams, and a small boy. We start our adventure in the rustic town of Eugene....

"Laurel, look out!"

Carrie screamed, as Laurel quickly dodged an ice ball.

"Stand back, Horsewoman, here it goes!"

A giant mass of cigarette smoke slowly envelopes Victor.

"NOOOO!!!My lifespan got slightly shorter and my risk of developing cancer rose by .49%!!!"

Victor, having been defeated, lurks off to hatch a new evil plan.

Later, back at the hideout (also known as Laurel's barn):

"Excellent work girls, you Thwarted Victor's evil plans of legalizing horse fur coats"

Captain Brown's luminous figure exclaims from the monitor

"All in a days work"

Ms. Smokesalot mutters as she heads outside to smoke another pack of cigarettes.

"Wait a minute Carrie, we have something much bigger on our hands, it seems a boy of about 17 is trying to be happy"

"Whats wrong with that?"

Laurel asks inquisitively

"The boy is David!!" Screams Captain Brown.

A look of pure malice and hatred overcomes Carries face, her pupils somehow become darker, and a fire burns in her eyes.

"I....HATE THAT BOY!!!"

Horsewomen and Ms. Smokesalot uses their communication skills and whispers into the air. A faint rumbling is heard in the distance, as two beautiful ponies draw near. Jumping on their horses they gallop into the distance toward their destination.

Florence, an hour later:

"YES! My dream of going to a beach house with my favorite giant fork is almost here! All I have to do is walk inside..."

~~!!CRASH!!~~

"MY FORK, YOU BROKE IT!!!"

"Muhahaha...Mwahahaha... MWHAHAHAHAH!!!!"

Ms. Smokesalot chuckled evilly as the fork tumbled to the ground, the broken pieces falling top their separate resting places, never again to be united again. The beautiful unity of craftsmanship and uniqueness destroyed in utter stupidness. Splinters fall hopelessly in a surreal epic of horror and destitute. Dreams are forever forgotten, hopes forlorn, wishes fell on deaf ears. Black and grey covered the earth and a mellow violin sets the scene for the future of mankind. Carrie Ruined everything for the young man in that single sweep of hatred. But she didnt stop there...

"You will never be happy, and now I will finish you off!"

Carrie lunges at David, but he skillfully steps aside. Attack after attack, each one hitting only air, Davids powers obviously superior to anything Ms. Smokesalot has to offer.

"Horsewoman, quick help me out!"

Both Laurel and Carrie use all there might but to no avail. Jumping back, Laurel has an idea.

"Carrie, I think the time has come...."

"Laurel, you know that hasnt been fully approved yet!"

"But its our only hope!...we must transform!!"

Carrie and Laurel both raise their right pinky, upon which an intricate and aesthetic ring graces their finger. Bringing the rings together, a faint glow seemingly appears around them, as they speak the spectral enchantment.

"BY THE MAGICAL POWERS ENDOWED UPON US BY CAPTAIN BROWN, OUR AGES COMBINED, WE ARE REALLY OLD!"

Their forms unite in unison as they transmute into a greater, yet extremely older, fighting machine!

"AHHH! THEIR SO OLD! I HAVE LOST ALL HOPE!!"

David mutters as he succumbs to ashes. Carrie having fulfilled her purpose in life of killing David, vanishes to never be seen again, and Laurel was rumored to be seen galloping with the wild horses in Western Asia.

David Campbell