Thursday, June 11, 2015

Fake dead things

Golding's pig farm 3:01Am

Bald with not even eye brows Naked in the pile stacked up with three other hers was Oracle or A Oracle. Oracles. If you had asked me to come up with a situation were three naked O's weren't hot I'd have told ya there is no such circumstance.

Clusters of us were scattered through out the Pile.

Ethan (3)
Donna (5)
I already mentiond Oracles (3)
And...
..... Me (4)

Almost all the clones were were well  not done. Hairless no nipples or privet parts. Like fleshy Barbie dolls.

Cept 1

At the bottom
With just the torso hanging out
Just the right hair. Just the right birthmarks.
Just the right every thing.

Was a me.
Done or petty close to it.
Was a me.
How close to done it was made it less weird less alien.
But it also made it look more real. More dead.
I felt like I was looking into my future.
It was bad.

"What now?" said Tiny

"The Silo" said Round Trip jones in Spanish

No one took there eyes off the Pile.

"Super quiet up there probably empty" said Ethan.  It almost sounded like he was Afraid. But nothing scares The enormous slasher Demons live inside him, 100 angry Demons! But he sounded scared. Kirby knows seeing a dead me was not sitting well with me.

"Ok.." I cleared my throat

"... Ya know how weird all them Silica's wondering about. In and outta time the weird occult science the just fucking worg"

Tiny followed my line of thinking and picked up the ball for me

"We are dealing with that level if smart. That level of crazy. That level of wrong. "


"A bad guy silica" said Ethan

The implications were not lost on any of us. Some one a quarter as smart of silica could destroy and rebuild the world twice by breakfast every most days. This guy was making real life folks, a cunt hair away from perfect. Away from undetectable by any human senses.
That was pretty smart and pretty wrong.

I have ment a lot of crazy smart folks. It weird that the CRAZY is always a component. It's like you have to turn something off. You need to shut off things like compassion and basic morality to make room for all that Mad science.

All of Silica's Dimension jumping all his time tampering he had seen to much. And now he ran all over time in and out it's either delicate brilliance or insane belligerence. Mucking around most of the Silica's were so crazy that they didn't make sense but now and again you ran into one that was still together and wile the science he saw makes him totally giddy the Him's break his heart.

Was this guy once? Did he see to much. Was his mind melted trying to  decipher things his eyes weren't meant to see. And what did any of it have to do with us?

I Turned and looked at the Dragon again. Every day since I Awoke from my poison induced slumber I've felt worse and worse. I Tried to ignore it but I did. My whip out In the The filed had me all backwards and sore I felt hung over from the beers Tiny and I had a few hrs back. I was sick.

I looked back down at the cute dead baby cartoon dragon. My mind buzzed through rapid fire fantasy of saving the dragon going on adventures watching movies its silly face on my knee. I'd have been a great dad. This dragon made me so sad. I didn't know I was crying till Tiny put his hand on my shoulder

"Silo" he said
"Silo" I repeated

With that we moved away from the clearing back towards the filed behind the abandoned pig farm creeping in the direction of the silo.

Every step I took I fought the urge to look back at the me under the pile or the little dragon. Resisted the temptation take one more look at that simple little campsite that had in some profound way he changed my life.












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Wednesday, June 10, 2015

Episode 150

Trick or Treat Radio will be celebrating the big One Five Oh on Wednesday June 10th @ 9pm EST! We made it 150 Episodes without killing each other, which is a friggin' miracle! Anyways, to celebrate our 150th Episode, we decided to call in our brother from another coast, Stephen Scarlata! Stephen will be joining us for a Double Feature Review. First up is the love letter to 80s action, Kung Fury! We also have a bonus secret review of a film picked specially by Mr. Scarlata. 
Mask Vs Hair!

 If tiny shows up I lose my hair 
If he misses the show he loses his masks
We also want to hear from YOU! So please submit your emails, voicemails, videos, tweets, etc! Make plans to join us for the live broadcast of this momentous show!

Send audio/video files and emails to: podcast@trickortreatradio.com

or use the contact link on http://trickortreatradio.com/
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Tuesday, June 9, 2015

Shit gets suck

Golding's pig farm 3AM

Our friends were waiting for us in a small clearing that looked like it had once been camp site. A circle of stones sat in the middle were a campfire used to be; off to the right of that was a dead baby dragon.
The Dragon was small, with a long neck and and a round body like a sheep dog or beagle. It was not covered in scales but instead a green, rubbery skin, with spots that were a lighter green. It's face looked more like a cartoon then a real creature which somehow made it a lot more sad. And it was dead. I held back a sob. It was sad as hell. I'm an old softy.

 No One was paying the dragon any mind. they all looked at the pile of "Dead" clones. I was trying my damnedest not to but I saw what they were looking at.

In the right side of the Cmap sight was a pile of clone bodies all in some form Of compleation or incompletion  and in that pile was something that made me sick.







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Sunday, June 7, 2015

.... To stand on

Golding's pig farm 2:48 pm

I took a deep breath then dove into the darkness. The smart thing to do was probably not run across the open field on enemy property; by doing so we left ourselves open to snipers, hidden enemies or even traps that could easily be avoided by taking it slow.
" Guys... You gotta fucking see this" Something in the in the voice of the generally unshakable behemoth on the other end of the Communicator read to us as speed was the order of the evening and speed we gave. As fast as my old broken legs were capable of any way. Both knees and my right Ankle were about 13 years past due for a surgery. They and my front choppers were casualties of my Pro wrestling days.
Tiny was Three or 4 strides ahead of me and I had to work my ass off to keep it at just that. Back in the day it used to be only 2. You’re getting old Marz.
I was about to pull my goggles down when a giant crack broke through the night in the the direction we were heading. It sounded like a huge branch being pulled down by snow. Since it was may and since it was in the proximity of our friends, let's just say it was not a good sound.   Tiny took off like a rocket hoping to overtake whatever ambush or attack caused the lumber damage. He ran gracefully totally contradictory to what you would expect from his tall lanky frame. I did my best to keep up but my great luck stopped by to say howdy. My foot got under something and pushed it up in-between my legs, I launched forward and landed in a heap.
Instinct took over  before my body was ready to operate properly. I rolled over to my back and drew Scourge.  The cavalry revolver felt heavy and it was hard to hold it straight. I wasn't sure if I was winded or I hurt my wrist in the fall, but my other hand quickly joined the dance and I pointed the hand cannon into the darkness. I felt like I got punched by the hulk. I was pretty sure I had broken my nose, and tears and dirt would have made it hard to see on a sunny day; now I was blind. Someone was creeping up behind me. I pivoted sideways and put Scourge between us.
"No No it's me" whispered Tiny. he spoke slowly, deliberately, like talking to a fresh child. He could tell I was disoriented, didn't know how hurt I was.
"What happened?" he asked.
I think I said ‘I'm not sure,’ I at least thought it, but I think I stopped short because I became painfully aware-emphasis on the painfully-that the tooth I chipped may second had chipped  more.
“Are you hurt?" he asked. I could tell he is pretty worried.
"Chipped me tooth, me pride is broken and eight or nine places"
He started to ask what happened again but stopped short and kneeled down to inspect something about a foot away from me. In my head I made a “while you’re down there” joke, but I just couldn't get it out. I was super rattled, whether it was the aftereffects of being poisoned or I was just that out of shape. Probably it was a little of A and a little of B; one face plant and I was completely out of action. This wasn't good. In my brain I was a trained killer with hundreds of years of experience and thousands of hours of action but my body was acting like the old man I am.
Tiny stood up with something in his hand, tossed it into my lap and clicked on his communicator.
"What's the word?" he said, pressing his ear set.
I felt the thing Tiny had tossed in my lap up and down.
It felt like what my Eyes told me it was. I held it at either end and bent it and sure enough it bent at a joint in the middle just like what my eyes said it was. But I knew this was not what my eyes said it was--not a real one any way.
"A dragon?" Tiny said? It's hard to surprise us, but both Tiny and I were pretty surprised.
I slid my goggles down and looked at The "human leg" with my night vision. It we too light.  The skin felt wrong. You wouldn't notice if you brushed up against it but it if you felt it, held a hand or a leg like I was you would know.
Fakeness was not what was unnerving it's how close to real it actually was. Whoever was doing this, whoever was creating these things, this was a point in his experiments when they were almost there. They had almost  genetically engineered human.
"A dragon fell out of a tree?"
Tiny said. Every syllable was a question.
I looked over the top of the fake leg.
"Dragon"? I said
"A baby dragon fell out of the tree?"
Tiny said to our men in the forest.
Everything in his body language said he wanted to rip his earpiece out and toss it across the field. He was as fed up as I was.
I click mine on "We’re on our way"
Tiny helped me up
"Think the baby's ok?"
"Shut it"
Tiny and I ran across the field. Well, he ran. I limped waddled and did my best to keep up. I was way more hurt then I should be for a fall in a grassy meadow. Tiny did his best to slow down so I could keep up. Even in the darkness he could read my body language.
"They have books for people in your condition" he said not in the least bit winded
"Books for folks who got poisoned by a civil war wraith?"   I huffed and puffed
"Things to expect when you’re expecting" he answered with a smile so wide I knew it was there beneath his mask in the pitch black dead of night. I gave him the finger with everything I had.
We hit the tree line and took half a minute to get situated. I used my infrared to scan for our friend and anything else hiding in the woods. Nothing, The woods were unnaturally empty, only the heat signature of our resident basketball player sized maniac Ethan. He had come the back way in with legendary Luchadore Round Trip Jones (who didn't have heat signature--but that's a long story).
We approached our friends quietly and as fast as we could. It all looked normal, but we weren't going to take any chances.
As soon as our partners saw us they both shined their phone lights on 2 different things. Each made the night and our lives that much creepier.

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