DON'T BUY PASTA FROM THE SPLATTER MAN, PART 2

                                       
                                           - 2 -



           I was starving. I put my hand on the pizza box.
I went out on the porch and smoked some Jamaican herb.
I began hallucinating just a bit. That stuff is too strong for
me - I don't need the flowering tops, the marijuana buds -
I'm more of a mushroom and chemicals guy. I like to keep
a clear head. Ho! Ho!
          Well, some of the time...
           Anyway, I was getting the munchies real bad.
I stumbled into the kitchen. I put my hand on the box.
The pizza box was still warm... Goody for me.
I tasted the wet spot on the corner of the box.
It didn't taste like pepperoni.
            The light was too bright. I had to focus. I turned one
 light off. I opened the box. And what did I see? I saw my
own face staring back at me.  What the fuck!? Is this some
kind of a joke?
            It was my face, all right.  But it looked twice as
wide as my face. And it was entirely flat - twice the size
of my head. The eyes stared up at me with no expression
in them.  Dead pizza eyes. Some weird
sick attempt at painting my portrait  I picked up a
piece. It was crispy and hot...
            I noticed the oven door was open behind me.
The oven was hot. I turned it off and shut the door.
I had a bite of the strip of pizza. It didn't taste
like pizza.
           I had a horrible thought. No that couldn't be
true. I've been accused of having an over-active
imagination. I splashed cold water in my face,
then I  went back out of doors and looked out
into the night. Still the wind howled and moaned
in the windows behind me.
          I shut the door of the house. I went for a drive
by the lake. I had some thinking to do. 

          I got out of the car and walked out onto
a wharf into the lake. The lights in my rear view window
had blinded me.
          I walked about 100 feet onto the wharf. I looked
across the lake. I heard footsteps behind me on the boards 
of the dock. There was a large, athletic looking guy
walking up behind me. I thought, "There is no way off
this dock without running into the guy behind me."
          I turned and started walking back. I saw the man
more closely. He was wearing an orange baseball cap...
On the cap were written the words, "SPLATTER PIZZA."
I could see the guy more closely now. He had mad eyes
and a big crazy smile on his face. He was grinding his teeth.
         In his right hand he held a samurai sword.







                                                            (C) 2015 by W.G. Milne








(Note: My daughter Abby Rose told me she liked reading
          stories on the site: "Creepy Pastas." The idea
          appealed to me.  So I wrote this.)