I'm known as theghostofelvis here, but in some parts of the iternet I'm called weloveyoujamesarness, and in others simply Tildy.
I like funny things. Sometimes I am cynical. I also don't understand poetry. That is all.
The Pied Piper PrologueThey heard stories at the migrant worker camp, mostly from scruffy townsfolk who worked for a meal and left at the end of the day. The stories usually went that something—or someone had come to Hamelin and claimed he could drive the rats away. No one believed it. No one believed much at the migrant camp.The Pied Piper Prologue by theGhostofElvis
"Scam," said the oldest workers, the ones with bent backs and burnt faces. They leaned on their shovels and nodded to each other. "He'll demand money right there and then he'll run."
"Think so, huh?" the younger, less bitter workers would ask, and they'd look at each other and smirt.
Then the oldest workers would look up at the sky, with not a cloud to be seen, and then they'd flick cigarette ashes everywhere and look at Darkly Dreams. He was still shoveling even as the sweat poured off him and he coughed up yellow mucus. The oldest workers asked, "What do you think, boy? Scam, or not?"
And Darkly Dreams would keep working and grind his rotten teeth, and the workers young and old
Buried AliveBuried AliveBuried Alive by theGhostofElvis
Joandra missed Thanksgiving, and Joandra missed Christmas, and Joandra was about to miss New Year's when she finally quit stalling and just died.
"Well," said her husband, "at least that's that and we don't have to pay for her share of turkey anymore." But then he remembered that the day before New Year's was, in fact, his anniversary, and the guilt descended upon him.
So the husband went out to the jewelry store to see what he could see.
"For a dead woman?" the jewelry store clerk said. "I don't think we specifically carry adornments for corpses. But I'll see what I can find. What sort of a woman was she?"
The husband gave this considerable thought.
"A spendthrift woman," he said at last. "A lousy cook. Blonde."
"I don't suppose you have a positive criticism on hand?"
"Well, she used to be a cheerleader."
"Never mind," said the clerk. "Would you care to buy a nice emerald ring?"
The husband checked the price tag, then turned pale and crumpled to the ground.
Shotgun Weddings and Angry Brides: A Zombie TaleOf Shotgun Weddings and Angry Brides: A Tale of ZombiesShotgun Weddings and Angry Brides: A Zombie Tale by theGhostofElvis
Upon her death Molly Brown felt a jolt, followed by a jumping sensation, and then absolutely nothing for what felt like about fifteen seconds. This was just long enough to come to terms with the fact that she was dead, and that she would never see another sunset or feel the warm summer breeze rustling through her long brown hair or pet a warm fuzzy puppy on the head. It made Molly Brown very sad indeed.
And then Molly sat up, dusting a lot of dirt off of her wedding dress, and found herself on green fresh cut grass. A good hardy breeze, slightly stale from pollution, brushed her face.
"This must be Heaven," she said aloud, though for the life of her she couldn't decide why Heaven looked like an old cemetery. "It has to be. I don't see my mother-in-law anywhere."
"I hate to disappoint you," said a voice from behind her. "But this is definitely not heaven. You're still on Earth."
"Who said that?" said Molly. With some effort she tur