Friday, January 30, 2009

Thanks to Special Guest Writer, Benari.

The following DreadWhimsy entries are coming to you from the Persian Gulf, from Sergeant First Class Benari Poulten, serving with the Multi-National Force in Baghdad, Iraq.

We wish him quick and safe return to our shores, but only once he's single-handedly solved that whole... Middle East thing.

Benari is a screenwriter, stand-up comedian, and military man (triple threat!) from New York City. You can check out his blog at:

Say Hello To My Big Friend.

GUEST WRITER: Sergeant First Class Benari Poulten.

He'd started a new life. He'd gotten out. But still they found him.
So the dance would start anew.
No, Diego sneered. No, it ends here. Now. On the streets of Epcot Center...

It Had Been a Worthy Foe.

GUEST WRITER: Sergeant First Class Benari Poulten.

As they posed triumphantly for the press corps, an unsettling realization flashed through Jennings' mind: This one's just a baby...

That's when he heard the terrible roar, like a thousand angry rodents shrieking ...coming from right behind him.

Wednesday, January 28, 2009

Field Day: The Reckoning

Detective Fricker put the two photos side by side. Wait a goddamn minute. He gasped: "Of course. He's just finishing the game they all started together that summer... CHIEF HADLEY!!!"

Never Speak of What You See Here.

Holy shit!  So it was true.  The lake DID contain certain magical vortex-like properties.  For those who knew the secret incantations.  And also for those whose fathers owned the lake.

Those Early, Good Days on LV-426

"Ease up, Ripley... you're just gonna run over pedestrians. ...Eeeease up... ...come on, ease up."

Arachnophobia 2: Arachnophobia U.

Professor Kensington slammed a mason jar down over the thing in the grass and looked around to see if any of the kids on the Quad had noticed.  "And just how exactly did YOU get out of the laboratory?" he whispered, the jar already fastened tight. "And for how long..?"

The Catbox: Reloaded.

Clancy braced himself and leapt out into the void. Agent Tanzy caught him in mid-air, fists flying.
Enough foreplay. However it ended, it ended here. Tonight.

I'm Just Here to Support My Roommate.

Mitchell groaned as soon as the lights came up on the tiny blackbox space. Great, he thought, another angry play about Iraq. Ugh, didn't theatre ever used to just be fun?

Western Promises.

Sure it was a hard life on the road, away from Connie and the triplets. But he had his pride, and if he didn't at least try, well, then he'd just end up working the same coal mines that killed his father.

Tuesday, January 27, 2009

What's The Worst That Could Happen?

Unfortunately, Nigel picked the wrong day on the bus to take Dr. Abernathy's advice to "actualize" the "latent potential" of his "best possible life." On the plus side, he now had weeks in a full-body cast to focus on finding a new therapist.

Sometimes They Come Bark.

No. No that couldn't be. Old Yeller had been dead when they buried him in the woods. He was sure of it. Dead from a shotgun blast to the head. Oh Jesus. Oh God no!

Monday, January 26, 2009

He Was Still Your Father.

Thank God her mom was in the kitchen when Judy found the photograph buried beneath Dad's things. She couldn't let her mother see him like this. Not right after the funeral.

Jesus... just who the fuck were you, Dad? What kind of sick, perverted lifestyle were you hiding from us all those years?

I'm Saving Up for New Headshots.

Lizette tried her best to smile for the auto show crowd. Tonight, she'd get drunk on mini-bar chardonnay, throw up her dinner, and end up crying on the floor of the motel shower.
Why did demo work always make her feel like such a whore?

Natural Born Eaters.

It wasn't losing the weight she cared about anymore. It was losing the spotlight. Well, nobody cancelled Ruby. And after today, no one would ever forget the name Ruby ever again.

The Day Jennifer Stood Still.

Connelly woke from the same feverish dream, her sheets soaked through with sweat. She caught a glimpse of her cold, emotionless face in the bathroom mirror, broke down, and cried actual tears.

David had been right: Fame was the one Labyrinth she would never escape.

Sunday, January 25, 2009

Oh. Yeah. This Is My Friend Kiefer.

Kiefer's stupid fuckin joke hung in the air, but Randy could already tell from the look on the girls' faces that that was the end of that.
God. Why did he still feel obligated to invite him out to the bars?

Safety in the Workplace.

Eventually, Lord Vader caved to the Death Star's Legal Department. He had to admit it really was the only sensible thing to do given the working conditions, but, man...
How much was he NOT looking forward to bringing it up to the Emperor during their 10 o'clock...

Executive Privilege 3: Execute This.

There was a sudden whooooosh at the banquet table and a flash of cold steel.
The President was on his feet before the sound of the senator's insult had even stopped ringing in his ears.

Once again, the Right had underestimated him.  
With the election over, such insolence would not stand.

Friday, January 23, 2009

The Last of America's Deep Space Probes.

As Buck Rogers took his last breath in preparation of certain death, he had to admit... there were worse ways to go.

Thursday, January 22, 2009

It's Huge On The East Coast.

As soon as someone shut off the stereo, Garret knew: it just wasn't a dance craze they could get behind.

All Of This Has Happened Before...

In a flash, Betty felt certain she'd been here before, holding this same spoon, stirring this dough. But the things the men had said, about "downloading" and "resurrection," well that-- that was just crazy talk. She knew who she was. She knew what she was ...didn't she?
No, Betty, don't start doubting yourself. Not now.

They're Ready for You in Makeup.

"Hey, look, don't listen to me, sweetheart, okay, I mean, I've only been in the business for, oh, going on thirty-seven years here-- but you better flash some tit if you want to be taken seriously. You think I even got to read for anything in this town before I did that fuckin homo Indie flick? Shit. You need Oscar bait: crackhead, whore, crack-whore, tranny retard... gay, fat, ugly. Take your pick. Do your time. Move on. Now be a doll and fetch me a latte from craft services."

Tuesday, January 20, 2009

"Have You No Decency?!"

Selling the baby's first-photo rights to US Weekly was one thing, but, goddammit, this was their family home.  This was their private life.  This was France.  And nobody had a right to take pictures of her baby.  NOBODY.

Monday, January 19, 2009

That Final Field Trip.

"All right everybody, last picture, everybody move in a little closer.  ...liiiittle bit closer... ...closer, you guys."  "Oh GOD--"  "--oh GOD, MR. RIGOLETTI?!"  "Mr. Rigoletti!"  "--oh my god OH MY GOD!"  "I think--"  "--what?"  "I think Gates just fell in--"  "--I think she--"  "Gates?"  "--she totally--"  "I think she JUST JUMPED!"  "I don't see her!"  "Gates!"  "OH JESUS CHRIST! Oh god no...!"  "GATES?! GATES!!!"  "oh, god, somebody--!"  "SOMEBODY DO SOMETHING!!!"  "--she just--"  "I know..."  "I couldn't even.  I couldn't stop her."

The Happened.

Forty years had passed, but the townspeople never really forgot the horror that day.  The Day of the Naked Baby Attacks.  No one knew what had triggered the toddlers to swarm, or indeed, where'd they'd even come from.  Or where they'd gone after they fled into the woods.
Maybe some things were better left buried.

Why She Always Showered First.

Donnie told Laurel-Ann he'd be gone all day, parked the car a couple blocks over, and waited outside their bedroom window. He'd been suspicious for weeks. Now he knew.

"You think you know your own wife," he muttered, loading the shotgun. "You think you know the woman you married."

By Your Command.

Sung-joo opened all the boxes, lined them up, and turned them on.  Could it really be that all of his relatives had sent him the exact same birthday present?   He blinked in amazement at how many there were. 
And then they blinked back.

Motel for Dogs.

Scraps knew the University was about to cut his funding due to "gross misconduct."  But he could not allow his Eugenics experiments to be jeopardized.  Not when they were this close to a hybrid.  The time had come for more... unorthodox methods to further the Canine Agenda.

I Finally Found Someone.

Actually-- if Cole was honest with himself-- what had started out as JD and Holly's impromptu little set-up had turned into the greatest blind date of his life.  She was kind, demure, stain-resistant.  The big question now was if his parents could ever really accept her as part of the family.

Thursday, January 15, 2009

Make Way for Gypsies.

The Puddleduck Boys knew the routine by now.  Jemima had taught them well: white liberals were suckers for a street show.  No more hocking Hershey's on the A, C, E for them.  And no more of this stale bread bullshit.  Tonight they were hitting Applebee's and hitting it hard.

Tickle Me Anus.

Later they'd chalk it up to being in college.  Just one of those "theatre party" things.  No biggee.

Hilton Heels.

Paris loved new puppies.  Paris loved new shoes.  Paris got bored easily with puppies and shoes.  Problem solved.

Wednesday, January 14, 2009

Why Won't You Return My Calls?

Fine, they'd had their forbidden Summer, but now this had to end. She was a married woman, for god's sake. I mean, dammit, how dare he just come to her house like this?

Oh god... please don't do be like this, when we both know you only loved me for my nuts. 

(But even she didn't believe that.)

OJ Did It.

When a strongly worded letter to Tropicana isn't enough.

A Jihad of Giggles.

They'd found Tinky-Winky hanging from the ceiling by his own purse-strap, a note for each of them left on the desk. God, he'd wanted to believe so badly he could change what he was.
Now they each knew... It was time to take the hurt to Jerry Falwell.

Saturday, January 3, 2009

I Lied About the Pic-a-Nic.

Yogi was hoping if they just sat down and talked, honestly for once, things would work out.  But the truth was Boo-Boo wasn't really that honest.  Or emotionally stable.  Or sober.  Oh, man, this was totally gonna be one of those kind of break-ups.

Thursday, January 1, 2009

Confessions on a Futon.

It'd be one thing if she could at least brag that he was hung like a horse.  But let's be honest, she couldn't even do that.

How Do You Take It?

What a lark!  What a bit of whimsy, to serve tea in such a manner! thought Darla.  ...but an appalling silence quickly fell over the room.  
Needless to say, it was the last time Richard's parents ever came to visit.

Hiroshima Mon Amour 2: Nagasaki Mon Amour.

Professor Yamamoto's Masterful Automaton could run faster than any automobile, punch a fist through a brick wall, and record the great symphonies of the world.  But stop an atom bomb?  Well.  No...  No, apparently, he couldn't do that.

A Quantum of Pigeon.

Gertie stared at the skinned, rotating corpses, her face stoic.  It was too late to save them.  She'd have to mourn later.  Tonight-- tonight she'd put a bullet in the Colonel herself.