Please don't feed PickleMan
Please don't feed PickleMan
About Us Store Advertising Contact New to I-Mockery? Register an account and join in the pickled fun! New to I-Mockery? Register an account and join in the pickled fun!
Please, don't grab the bag. It's just a catchy name.



Though I have a price tag, I truly feel worthless

Hello there kiddies! Brain Child here, reporting to you live from hell. How do I know my name is Brain Child? Because that's what the price tag around my neck says. And why am I still wearing the tag? Because a certain webmaster of a horribly unfunny site was in too much of a hurry to get back to his regular hobby of masturbating to "Family Ties" re-runs while listening to Don Johnson's hit single, "Heartbeat". I'm not gonna say which cast member he was yankin' his yoinker off to though, I'm above that sort of thing.

Ok it was Skippy.

If only the price tag string was stronger, I could hang myself.

Those people over at Fright Catalog must have really hated me to send me over to live with the loser who runs I-Mockery. I mean, for fucks sake, could my life possibly get any worse? Look at me goddamnit, I'm a hideous freak of nature with a price tag around his neck. I would remove the price tag, but you see, the geniuses who created me decided that it would be funny if they had my fucking hands permanently welded to my knees. Great gag guys, no really, I laugh about it every single day. Hilarious.


You can see why I had to grow such an immense brain though, I mean when you're completely unable to move your limbs, you tend to start using your cranium just a little bit more. I've developed some pretty incredible powers of telepathy over the years, and while they're not strong enough for me to remove the price tag from my goddamned neck, they are strong enough to help me introduce you to another Halloween treat.

Prying open my third eye. o.O

Meet the "Eyeball Diabolical Doorknob", or as I like to call him... Horace. Now Horace basically has one intended use, and that is to scare people who grab onto him without looking when he's placed on top of a doorknob. Kind of like that doorknob gag from last year, only more ocular and rockular. You know, I think Horace may actually have a worse existence than my own, if that's possible. Really, that ranks right up there with a friggin' whoopee cushion. Poor Horace.

Well, with all of my infinite wisdom, I have given new life to Horace's practically meaningless existence. Behold the power of Brain Child's mighty... brainy... braintacular... BRAIN!


New use #1: Eyeball Diabolical Hat.
Yes, now you too can look like the models on the runway who are more shallow than a puddle of my own piss. All you gotta do is wear Horace on your head and you'll be screaming with fashionable glee. I may be a hideous brainy beast, but even I look pretty damned good when I wear Horace on my head. Hey Vogue Magazine... call me.

I'd gladly trade my tail for a gun.

New use #2: Eyeball Diabolical Tail Warmer.
Ok, now for many of you, a tail warmer won't be of any interest since you're probably not a freak with a tail like me. Actually, what am I talking about? You're reading this sick-assed web site, so you've probably got tails growing out of your nostrils for all I know, you nasty mutants. Anyway, Horace makes for a damned fine tail warmer, and believe me, it helps out a lot on those cold winter nights when you wish you could remove your hands from your fucking knees just so you can grab a blanket... or a gun.


New use #3: Eyeball Diabolical Juice Cup.
This is my personal favorite, because I'm 1) a big fan of juice, 2) a big fan of cups, and 3) I'm so fucking miserable that I'll do just about anything to keep myself entertained until I develop the mindpower to explode my huge head and bring myself the sweet release of death. Yes, when flipped upside-down, Horace the wonder-eye becomes a makeshift juice cup. Granted, the juice has a slight tint of latex and rat droppings as a result of Horace being stored in a warehouse for far too long, but I've developed a fondness for the flavor of rat droppings. You see, in my miserable little life, rat droppings are the sweet Hershey's Kisses of my day.

Please come find me and destroy me. PLEASE!

That's about all of the new uses I've come up for Horace the eyeball so far. If only he had some jagged edges or something, perhaps I could find a way to hurl myself upon him and end it all as he pierced through one of my vital organs. Then again, with my luck, the twisted scamps who created me didn't give me vital organs and instead filled me with fire ants who, upon release, would feast upon my eyes thus making my continuance all the more unbearable.

Well, thanks for listening. But really, if any of you want to do me a favor you'll wipe off the Krispy Kreme crumbs, get out of your La-Z-Boy chairs, march your fat asses on over here, pick me up and toss me into a fiery abyss. Fuck Halloween, sugar-coated death in a fiery abyss is my Christmas wish this year. Make it happen people... MAKE IT HAPPEN.

-Brain Child

Want your own Brain Child or Eyeball Diabolical Doorknob?

FrightCatalog.com - Halloween Costumes, Props, and more!
Big thanks to Fright Catalog for supplying us with
a bunch of great Halloween material to review this year!
We'll be featuring more of their crazy items this season, and they've got an awesome Halloween supplies site, so please check it out and support 'em - FrightCatalog.com!