So far I have seen an IMAX 3D horror movie; took in six authentic haunted houses; am decorating the old workplace with decapitated heads, corpse hands and tarantulas; watched numerous horror films; arranged for ghostbusters to visit; and bought five pumpkins.

Tonight I met my match. Men with chainsaws chasing me around mazes.

Area 51: Alien Apocalypse: the first haunted house. I hid behind little Kazumi the whole way through.

The Asylum of Terror: the second haunted house. I hid behind little Kazumi most of the way until I ran, terrified, for the rest of the maze. It was only when I got out that I realized I left Kazumi behind. So I went back in. A guy with a chainsaw chased her. By far the scariest. Especially the polka-dot chameleon clown.

Nuclear Nightmare: the third haunted house. I hid behind little Kazumi. A guy with a big knife got fed up of me cowering in a corner and told me to hurry up. Another guy with a chainsaw got between me and Kazumi. Kazumi yelled at me to run to her, but there was no way I could squeeze past the chainsaw.

What Lurks in the Dark: the fourth haunted house. I was so happy when the attendant made me go with a young couple. With a man to protect us, there was no danger. Just to be safe, I hid behind little Kazumi. This house was really dark. In the confusion, I somehow ended up in front, the girl behind me, holding on to my shoulders, her boyfriend behind her, holding on tight, and Kazumi at the back. When the bad man jumped out of the dark, the girl grabbed my hand. I felt brave and manly.

Reaper’s Remains: the last haunted house. I groped my way through the dark, leading Kazumi, a girl and her boyfriend. The boyfriend told me he will be screaming “like a little girl.”

Twenty dollars is how much Pugshot bet me. If I write at least 10,000 words of a novel, Pugshot owes me twenty US dollars. If Pugshot wins, I owe Pugshot the twenty dollars.

I know, I know, it should be 50,000 words. But look, I’ll be starting on November 3rd, not November 1st. Everyone else will have a head start.

Besides, I managed 4,000 words in 2002 and 2,000 words in 2003. 10,000 is a longshot for me, therefore a suitable goal.

To further cheat - no! no! - I meant to further increase audience involvement, I will be selling prime real estate in my novel. Please submit your words.

I guarantee that your words will make leading role and cameo appearances in my novel.

Right now I am thinking of a novel about a mad scientist in a lightbulb factory (plenty of piranhas!) or a novel about a travelling vampire carnival (lots of sullen things wearing black!). You know, the sort of topics an editor once told me she hates getting.

You are a Return of the Living Dead Zombie. You
were brought back from the grave by exposure to
245-Trioxin. You crave the heavenly taste of
spicy brains to stop the pain of being dead.
You are virtually indestructible, as even
burning you up will create Zombie Rain and
raise more zombies.

What kind of Zombie are you?
brought to you by Quizilla

You’re Brigitte Bardot!

What Classic Pin-Up Are You?
brought to you by Quizilla

(Thanks, Raspberry)

She still bites but she doesn’t puncture skin any more. Still exhibiting extreme fear of humans: writhes on her back when touched and appears to be possessed by the spirit of a hornet-stung cobra. Burrowed under the newspaper lining of her cage. Hisses, sneezes and squawks like a parrot.

So far, I am not in a coma.

My ghostly adventures made it on the 6 o’clock news. I was the assistant in question.

The newscaster almost said Port Mutant before he corrected himself.

“A friendly crow has turned rogue, swooping down on children at Mary Hill Elementary School, stealing their toys and food, and dive-bombing adults.

The crow, which pupils have nicknamed Charlie, has been hanging around since school started.

While pupils were running laps, Charlie and friends stripped the paper labels off water bottles placed on the edge of the route.

He’d dive-bomb the kids, peck them in the head, chase them back in the building.

‘He started dive-bombing mothers on the way into the building with their kids,’ [secretary Alyssa Hall] said. ‘Now he’s got a couple of other crows with him.’

The crows, and a seagull, lurk around the playground during lunch and recess.

It and the other crows were not tempted by Cheezies placed on the ground to lure them in for a closer look. Only the seagull ventured close.

One crow - she said it was Charlie - left the gang and perched in a tree, staring at her with gimlet eyes.

‘He’s always staring at me,’ she said.”

Tri-City News

Dear Maktaaq,

I think my husband is having an affair. He returns from work late every night and, when I ask how his day was, he snaps at me that it was fine and I shouldn’t be so nosy. I also found a receipt for flowers in his pant pocket when I doing the laundry. I haven’t received flowers from him since our third anniversary, four years ago. He also goes on weekend trips for the company, he says. He works for a small hat manufacturing company. I may be a housewife married straight out of high school but I know factory floor workers don’t get all-expenses paid business trips.

What should I do?

Sincerely,

Unhappy Housewife

*****

Dear Unhappy Housewife,

Any guinea pig infestation can be treated in one of three ways:

1. Hiring an Andean shepherd to draw them out of their lairs and to an undisclosed location.

2. Impaling effigies of the guinea pigs with knives.

3. Trapping them with venus flytraps.

Unfortunately, the average Andean shepherd’s salary shot through the roof after the presidential guinea pig débâcle, making them impractical for the middle class masses.

Also unfortunately, effigies of each guinea pig must be made to dispatch the entire population. Overlooking even one guinea pig leads to renewed infestations. Just one guinea pig can self-germinate up to 49,000 other guinea pigs in three weeks. Furthermore the succeeding guinea pigs will have mutated a resistance to voodoo magic.

Most guinea pig extermination success stories attribute their effectiveness to the venus flytrap. Enforce at least three days of fasting upon your carnivorous flora, then surround the site of the infestation with the plants. This humane method does not kill the guinea pigs; the venus flytrap will only have begun salivating if you check on your traps within 24 hours, leaving the guinea pig soggy and perhaps temporarily paralyzed. Any plant with a trapped guinea pig should be pried open, the guinea pig inserted into a stamped envelope (see your post office for guinea pig mailing rates) and sent back to Peru. All guinea pigs should be returned to Av. Alfonso Ugarte 650 Lima - Perú.

Yours most truly,

F.G. Maktaaq

(Inspired by JMB)

Maikopunk wrote about potlucks. LadyLitBlitzin commented. I haven’t had such a thorough laugh in a while. Even my newly-formed whiplash hunchback quivered with mirth.

Parties are weird. Sometimes people take care of your things and sometimes they vomit in your clothes drawers.

Uni, just to make it clear, is the Food of the Gods.

The hamster’s name has been decided. My sister suggested one of our distant cousins. She is Crenguţă, or Twiggy. Crenguţă seems tomboyish enough for a vicious 31-day-old hamsterling. Both my sister and I have been bitten by the little harridan.

For those of you who don’t speak Romanian, Crenguţă is pronounced kren-goo-ts-ugh. My sister and I can’t even say it. I phoned my mom up in the middle of the night just to check the spelling.

So Crenguţă is a spunky little shrew. We’ll have to work on the taming part.