STAND BY ME-PARODY PART II

Thousands of my fans have been waiting with bated breath for the continuation of  'Murder & Mayhem', my Steven King parody. I have been blessed with a new supply of pharmaceuticals to assist with my inspirational writing. Before I start though, have you ever wondered how fucked-up the real Stephen King's childhood must have been? All the little kids in his stories are never into baseball, video games, Scouts, paper routes, etc. No fucking way! The kids in his stories are more interested in dead bodies, starting fires, cavorting with ex-Nazi's, torturing animals and nasty shit like that. This is my homage to the man. Feel free to read any of my blogs to your kids as bed time stories.


BARTLETT, FUNGUS, DIPSHIT & GNARLY GO APE SHIT

Having been suspended from school for 2 weeks for shooting his teacher during 'Show & Tell', Bartlett asked his three friends Fungus, Dipshit and Gnarly if they wanted to see a dead kid laying by the tracks.

"I didn't know there was a dead kid by the tracks", said an excited Dipshit.

"There isn't yet," said Bartlett, bursting into an insane giggle, "but I'm pretty sure the four of us can do something about that! I was thinking of asking that mongoloid, Garth, if he wanted to go on a little road trip down to the tracks. Are you guys up for it?"

"Fucking right!" they all shouted in unison.

Gnarly added, "This is going to be more fun than the time we chained the doors on the old folks home then set it on fire!"

"Okay, this is the plan then, I want you guys go home and round up some supplies. We'll need food, weapons and lots of ammunition."

"Yeah," said an excited Fungus. "Bring tons of fucking weapons. We are definitely not going to get fucked over by bullies like those pussies in the movie 'Stand By Me'. Man this is going to be a fucking hoot. I don't know which part is cooler, seeing a dead kid laying bythe tracks, or being the ones who are going to put it there!"

Half hour later they were back and taking inventory of their supplies. Fungus had a pound of bologna, a loaf bread, his dad's AK47 and 1,000 rounds of armor piercing shells. Dipshit had wieners & beans, buns, a tactical shotgun and a sack full of drum clips. As for Gnarly, he discovered his dad's hiding spot for the .50 calibre Schmauzer, equipped with a laser scope, but he hadn't found any food in his house. So he had walked into Ming Wo's Corner Store and clubbed the Chinaman over the head with an ax handle. He then helped himself to a 12 pack of Budweiser's, a carton of Lucky Strikes and a box of Captain Crunch cereal. Bartlett still had the Smith & Wesson, but for added insurance he decided to bring his fathers Uzi. Bartlett's dad was often fond of saying-"even though you can't trust a Hebe as far as you can throw them, they sure do make a dandy, compact hunting rifle!" Slinging their weapons, they headed out on a adventure that would soon turn into one serious mind-fuck.

As they were walking by the Bangor police station they ran into Chief Walker. "Hey, hey, hey! Wait a second boys, what the fuck are you doing with all these weapons?"

"We're going fishing, Chief!" piped up Gnarly.

"Good for you, for one second there I thought you kids might be up to some shenanigans. I like to see boys taking an interest in a hobby. You wanna know what I think?

"Not really," said Bartlett, "but knock yourself out.

"I think too many of today's young kids are listening to that jungle music and getting fucked up on ganga and causing a lot of problems. Why any White kid wants to go Negro is beyond me. From my experience, even niggers don't want to be niggers," opined the semi-retarded cop. "About your fishing gear, I don't know how you guys can catch any fish with firearms. Me and Deputy Fife usually take a couple of sticks of TNT."

 About to walk away, the Chief was suddenly reminded of a few things he needed to warn the boys about. "Boys, wait a second! I want you to be extra careful and watchful while your out in the woods today. I got word that a mysterious mist is rolling in from that Army Experimental Lab. It's most likely filled with all kinds of weird creatures. And Mrs. Koontz, who lives on the other side of town, has phoned 911 several times in the last hour. Seems a couple of clowns have been luring little kids into the woods. Now, as soon as my officers are finished their coffee break, I'll get them to see what's up with that shit!"

"Wow Chief, clowns killing kids is a low priority call," sarcastically interjected Bartlett.

Oblivious to Bartlett's sarcasm, he carried on. "And you'll never believe what I heard from Chief Connors over in Derry. A couple of UFOs have landed and the place is crawling with Tommyknockers. How the fuck do you think Stephen King comes up with these names? My guess, he was molested many, many times when he was a kid. I got to tell you, this has got to be the craziest fucking place in all the world. I sometimes get this scary feeling I am right in the middle of one of his fucking novels!" said the Chief, fidgeting with his nuts.

"Hate to tell you this Chief, but right at this moment, you're in another one of his novels! And thanks for the heads up," said Dipshit. "By the way have you found the Epstein twins?"

"Not a whiff, but I was talking to that expert with the FBI, and he is pretty sure they ran away and joined the circus with those other 45 kids in this county that have gone missing in the last year. He says about 80,000 kids in the USA run away and join the circus every year!", said an exasperated Chief. "One more thing! Ever see that movie 'The Green Mile'? That super-sized coon busted out of prison before Tom Hanks could fry him in the electric chair!"

Chapter 8

As it turned out, the boys adventure lasted a total of four blocks before they got tired and bored. They decided to see if the rumor was true that old man Robertson and his wife really did have a million bucks worth of gold hidden in their basement. They were now sitting at the old fuckers kitchen table, dividing the loot they had found.

Bartlett was totally pissed as he looked at the miserable take-16 cents, a broken Timex and 4 gold fillings Fungus had removed from old lady Robertson's mouth using pliers.


"Ah fuck it,"explained a resolute Bartlett, "the day's not completely ruined. We can go get that retard and take him to the tracks and off him."

"Not so fast men!" said a very concerned Dipshit. "Look's like this novel we are in, is going full-blown Steven King. There's a very weird looking mist rolling in. And if I'm not mistaken, it's going to be chock full of the weirdest shit in the world!"

Looking out the window, Bartlett surveyed the scene and knew that Dipshit was right on the mark. This was going to be more fun than finding a dead kid. He decided to take control of the situation.

"We better barricade the doors and get upstairs," said Bartlett. "Knowing Stephen King, there is going to be a shit-storm of fucking creatures coming after us".

After barricading the doors and windows on the lower floor, they moved their arsenal of weapons to the upstairs bedroom. Peering out the window the boys tallied up the creatures that were milling about in the mist. There were the obligatory huge spiders Mr. King seemed to get a boner over. They also spotted a couple of rabid St. Bernards, some Martians and a couple dozen clowns.

"Hey," said Gnarly, "the hits just keep on coming! Isn't that Drew Barrymore wandering around over there? What the fuck is she doing? Think she's looking for Tom Green?"

"Jeezus Christ, she thinks she still playing her role in 'Fire Starter'!" said an excited Bartlett. "Fuck me, I have prayed to God for an opportunity like this. Hand me the Schmauzer!"

(In respect to Drew, the descriptive scene of Bartlett blowing her away has been deleted)

 "How do you think that dumb-fuck King thinks up this shit?" opined Gnarly.

"Don't ask stupid questions," laughed Bartlett, "haven't you seen a picture of him?"

"Look over there," screamed Dipshit, "Isn't that your mother trapped in the doorway?" He was indicating the entrance way of the main library, where a woman could be seen cowering in abject fear. There were a couple of clowns, a bunch of spiders and a St. Bernard skulking around her. They were obviously about to go in for the kill.

Bartlett strained his eyes in an attempt to see through the 'Mist' which was blanketing the library. Finally, he spotted his poor mother, frozen in fear as the the abominations continued to circle her.

"Oh, my God! I got to do something!" stammered Bartlett as he shouldered the high power rifle and took careful aim. Squeezing the trigger, the gun exploded with a huge muzzle flash. His mother's head exploded and her lifeless body dropped to the ground. The creatures stood in stunned disbelief wondering what the fuck had just taken place.

"Nice shot," said a thoroughly impressed Fungus as he squeezed off two shots from his tactical shotgun. The first shot cut one of the clowns off at the waist and the spider next to it exploded into a cloud of purple guts.

"Thanks," said Bartlett. "What do you guys say? Should we forget about the retard and stay here and have a little fun with the weapons?"



"Okay, but the monsters are all hiding now", said Dipshit.

"Don't sweat it, I have a great idea," said Bartlett, totally ramped-up in the anticipation of creating a blood bath. He left his mates, walked down the stairs and entered the living room. Still bound and taped to chairs were Mr. and Mrs. Robertson.

"Okay you old geezers, if you want to live another day, you'll do exactly what I tell you. Understand?" asked Bartlett.

"Yes, we will do anything you ask, but please don't hurt us," whimpered Mr. Robertson. "Please go easy on my wife, her heart is........" A backhand from Bartlett cut him short and rocked him off his chair.

"Shut the fuck up and listen!" screamed Bartlett, "Now I want you to go outside and walk to the corner. I then want you stand perfectly still stand under the street light. If you move, I guarantee I will put a fucking bullet in your heads. Got it!"

"What kind of kids are you?" whimpered Mrs. Robinson.

"Don't ask me, ask Stephen King! Me, you, everything around us are a figment of his sick imagination. Now get the fuck out of here!"

Bartlett raced back upstairs to join his friends. The excitement and anticipation in the air was palpable as they watched the old couple nervously creep towards the light post.

"Oh, dear," cried Mrs. Robertson, spotting an evil looking clown riding on the back of a spider. "That doesn't look very good, Norman!"

"No shit Sheila! And what was your first fucking clue, Sherlock?" whined Mr. Robertson.

Scared shitless, the old geezers stopped and looked up at the window, hoping the boys would show them some mercy. Seeing as the boys had these shit-eating grins on their faces, they were resolved to the fact that their fate was now sealed.

"Please boys, don't hurt us," blubbered the Mrs. Robertson, "Me and my husband haven't done you any harm."

"Shut the fuck up!' screamed Fungus, firing a warning shot from the shotgun which took the old ladies leg off at the knee.

Mr. Robertson, in total shock, tried to help his wife to her feet, I mean help her to her foot. Propping her against the light pole, he went back and retrieved her leg. In a vain attempt, he tried to re-attach her leg to the stump. Even going so far as to take out his shoe laces and try and tie it back on.

Hearing the boys laughing uproariously from the window he turned in stunned disbelief. He was just about to yell up at them when he tapped on the shoulder. Startled, he turned and saw a man and a woman. Peeking from behind the woman's skirt was this weird little kid mumbling something about a red rum or redrum.

"Hi mister, can you help us? My name is Jack Nicholson, this cunt (Mr. King's favorite derogatory term for women) is Shelly Duvall and I don't know who the kid is. Have you seen Stanley Kubrick around here? We're supposed to take a ride with him to the Overlook Hotel but we got lost in this fog."

 "Sorry, can't help you," politely replied Mr. Robertson. "But I think you're in the wrong book. Your in the "The Shining", which is the next parody Nils is writing."

(That's right people, I'm working on a parody of the Shining, which is just as sick and twisted as this one)

As he was pulling away in his Volkswagen, Jack yelled out the window. "Hey mister, you better take a look at your wife. Her shoe laces have come undone and her leg has fallen off."

Mrs. Robertson had toppled over and was vainly trying to pull herself up................

I've got to stop for a couple of hours, my brain is hurting me. I am continuously editing and adding to the stories. So check back every once in awhile and see what kind of sick shit I have added. I was thinking of doing an editorialization on Race Relations but that is a really fucked-up topic to write on. I have two pictures here. One is me, the other is my hero, Mr. King. Send me an email with the correct answer and you could win the grand prize. The winner gets to engage in a cluster fuck with Paris, Britney, Lindsay, Drew and a couple of other hot babes.