October 29 Entry 13

Since, 14 was on paper and I've been missing one for a while, here it is! Another installment right after the last! Read on, reader, read on.

Our residence is filling, but we must have 3 by Halloween for my soul to be releas- er, wait. Forget I ever said that. This is all definitely for the general audiences' entertainment... British accent! OOOoooOOOOOoooOOOO! Anywares, where to next on our quest? *Ahem*. Mystical Bag of Mystic Mysticalness? Any ideas? "What the cruddlemunkers are ya askin' me for? I'm just a bag." Just a bag? JUST A BAG?! You, my friend are more than just a bag! You can float, talk, think, invest in commodities, why you can do anything that doesn't require normal human appendages! Now chin up before I find a bile demon to put inside you. "I'll be good!"

Ah! Here we are! The legendary Abandoned Slaughterhouse! What creepy creepers shall we find here? Goodness! The pure animal spirit of a dead cow! what say you, Cowman? "MOOOooOOOoooOOOOOooooo!" Aha! Creepy and a pun on what cows say! Pure genius, Watson, pure genius! "MooooOOOOOOoooooOOOooOOOoOooOOOO!" Yes, yes, we've heard it already, have you anything else to say? "MOOOooOOOOOOOoOOOOOooooooOO!" Bah! This ghost has lost its appeal. Any other animal spirits around? No, yes, no? Humph. Well then, I suppose we'll take the stupid cow. Your name is Craphead. Into the bag! "MoooOOOOOoOOOOoooooOOoooOOOOO!"

October 29 Entry 16

Huzzah! We have acquired a paranormalian! Onward to discover the next resident of our Halloween House of Hors D'oeuvres! Mystical Bag of Mystic Mysticalness, deliver Pinsky to the residence. "Yes sir, Mr. Lordship, sir!" Yes, yes, on you go. Hmmm... where to next... Aha! I've got it! We shall receive ourselves at the Mansion of Miscellaneous Hauntedness! Our next acquirement shall of course be a ghoul! Well, then. Off we go!

A few excruciating long hours of walking later...

Gah! We're... finally... here... we... made... it! All right, in we go. Herm... This place certainly is frightening-looking. But fears and frights are no match for the lordship of Noah's Dominion! Aha! Is this a ghoul which I see before me, the eyeholes toward my face? Good sir, I implore thee. How arest thou? "What the heck you doin' in ma house you stupid, ugly, fat, stupid-" Ha ha! I do believe that's enough joking around Mr. Ghoul. I name thee... Jinston! Into the bag now. "What? Hey, what the f*** are you doin'?! Get the He** offa me!"

October 27 Entry 15

Onward! To the streets of Noah's weird thoughts! Our first stop is the graveyard of Killington Point. There is sure to be an ample supply of zombies here! Now then, let us desecrate a grave and see what "comes up" so to speak. This appears to be a suitable one. You there, under the ground! Your mother is a very unenjoyable woman! Goodness! A hand appears to be grabbing my foot! Please release your grip, kind sir! "My mother is a very nice lady!" Yes, yes, I'm sure your mother is enjoyable enough. Now then, come up out of the ground so I can kidn- I mean, "chat" with you. "Very well, but you should know I don't enjoy chatter of politics." Aha! You are now at my mercy! Now then, get into this bag before I am forced to use force! "Grah! I knew no good could come from city folk and their flyin' machines!" In you go, that's a good zombie. You are hereby named Pinsky! "Pinsky my mutilated left foot! How 'bout... Brain-Eater!" Never. Pinsky it is.

October 13, Entry 12

Evil! Stuff is not around today, if stuff's definition is our resident ghostman, Smattley. He is in Canada visiting his secret Canadian ghost-family. However! We now have our resident bile demon, Jinjo! What say you, Jinjo? 

"Grrrr... Jinjo hungy. Jinjo want food. You look like food. I eat you now?"

"No! No, Jinjo! I am not food! Go eat your chickens."

"Awww... No one like Jinjo, even though Jinjo strong."

Everyone, I apologize for Jinjo's noncompliance. He will be put to death shortly. Well then. I suppose we have no more paranormal residents in our Halloween House of Hors d'oeuvres (get it? Horrors, Hors d'oeuvres? Anybody?). It being thus, we must go find some more residents to kidn- I mean, invite to our house. So, for the next time, expect a journey into the world of Noah's random thoughts!

October 8 Entry 11

OooOOoOooooOOOoOoOooooOOOO! Scary voice! I shall now speak from the mouth of Smattley, my own resident ghostman! What say you, Smattley? "I say! Why are all the buildings opaque? Why, back in the olden days, when all the ghosts were runnin' around, we had transparent buildin's every-darn-where! Only place we could live, us ghosts. On top o' that, there's no ghost-food! Where's all the moldy bread and bloody-bacon?! And the zombie-burgers, boy, the zombie-burgers! Those sure was delicious. Too bad dem zombies was so hard to kill. Ah, I remember old times when we had possess'o'parties. Everybody would go down ta the old graveyard and force all the zombies out of their hidey-holes, graves or whatever ya call 'em. Then we'd all possess 'em and whack each other to death. It was even better when we could find some guns or sticks or high-powered grenade launchers. Ah, the memories..."

Yes, Smattley, it sure was. Now go! Leave my house! Away with thou!

October 6, Entry 10

ERRRGGGHHH!!! Herm. The randomness of life is like a small aisle of jelly sauce. Why do dwarven suns relive the epic battle of shower? Alas! The shark has eaten my foot-light. By the dark of the navel I realize that no, the fjords are not the start of existence! But in the cold light of Hawaii's cucumbers, I find that glove plus monkey equals G-chord on the piano of everlasting xylophones. Never again shall I long fo the warm blanket of cotton candy, but relish the joys of the black outline that is my butterscotch soul. The man sits there on the roof of my post-it store, crying to himself, "Why, oh why did I forget my pet three-toed sloth's favorite flavor of honey? He rests now like that area of Arkansas where the street is most purple." As I listen to this man's solemn cry, I think of how I, too, have lost my former sloth's love, becuase of my only fault: the inexorable solidness of my neon carpet. He fell from the balcony of the 398th floor, only to survive, mangled in a pile of old bull spleens. The only beginning is the end of the beginning of the end of the komodo dragon.

October 1 Entry 9

I do believe that I will continue to write about Trilby. There is another door on the other end of the room. Trilby enters it. Inside this room is a fireplace with a large hunting rifle on its mantle, a few vicious-looking animal heads, some very old sepia prints, and a strange-looking wooden idol in a glass bell jar. There is also a man wearing a leather jacket standing in the middle of the room. As Trilby enters, the man looks around and spies him. " Well, it's about time!" the man says. "We've been stuck here for too long! Now, where's the exit?" Trilby says, confused "What? I'm not sure what you're talking about." The man, slightly disapponted says "You mean you're not here to rescue us?" "No, I've only just got here myself," says Trilby.

"Hmm... Well, what's your name"

"Trilby"

"Well Trilby, I suppose I should give you a formal greeting, my name is Phillip, and as of right now, you are a prisoner of this house"

"A prisoner?"

"There are five of us including you, the others are exploring the house. There's me, A student from the boarding school nearby (whose name I can't remember), Simone (something), a reporter for the BBC News, and AJ, who won't tell us anything about himself"