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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
Want your own Brain Child or
Eyeball Diabolical Doorknob?
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!
SUGGEST THIS TO A FRIEND!