Coca-Bloodaaahh

That reminded me of another vampired-themed occurrence, one of my favorite, actually. It took place during one of the last times I remember all of us cousins getting together before everyone grew up and grew apart. We were in the basement of Henry and Hudson's old house. I was barely in high school, or not even, so everyone else was still pretty young. It had to have been after dinner already, since everyone was downing cans of Coke, which would not have been allowed before dinner. A concensus somehow formed around me telling a scary story. But I had already told my scariest story and had nuthin at the moment. Still, I always had so much fun scaring you guys, because all of you guys had wits of mice. Screams and shrieks would deafen the room so that nobody ever knew what actually happened in the scariest part of the story. Hudson was the toughest. If he was scared, I would know that I'd done my job. It happened once or twice.

So I had no scary story, but I took on a stiff, uncoordinated gait, with my arms outstretched towards my intended captives and began to speak in a walking-dead-Eastern-European accent - a kind of mummy-vampire-zombie. It was very scary to witness, I'm sure. And I was after the Coca-Blooda. Everyone ran from me, snatching up their cans of Coke as they fled screaming. They baited me with their Coke cans, because what little kid doesn't like to be chased and have their wits scared out of'em? I stumbled after in my necessarily slow, painstaking trudge, since I was a mummy-vampire-zombie thing. That trudge is what terrifies. In zombie flicks, it's what causes your head to implode and your thoughts to freeze in fear - the sight of this monster coming after you at 1. mile. per. hour. - eyes wide in suspended animation, voiceless screaming abounds.

The basement was a bird's nest under attack by an incoming vulture - all feathers and flurrying and chaos.

"Coka-blooooodaaaaaaaaahhh!!!"

"Aaaaaaahhhh!! Aaaahh!!"

Even when you're scared, you know you're having fun when what's coming out of you is actually a mixture of hysterical screams and uncontrollable laughter. Much like that first rollercoaster ride of the season at Six Flags...

The Wielder of Worldly Knowledge Part II

Finally another post. Let's get this battle against amnesia goin' strong.

So here's a tribute to our shared fascination with vampires and other paranormal phenomena while growing up. Remember that large freezer in the basement that we used as blanket and pillow storage? I used to crawl in there as a kid since it was long enough to fit me, and I would either sleep or pretend I was a vampire and pop up while we were down there doing laundry. We would also pretend to be on the X-files: I would be the dead corpse laying inside the fridge on top of all the pillows, and you would be Scully doing an autopsy.

I remember one time when I was a probably about 12 or 13, we were in the other room of the basement ironing clothes, and we got on the subject of vampires again somehow. I was laughing and smirking at the fact that you claimed to be one. Then all of a sudden, a serious expression came over your face, you started walking towards me slowly, predator-style, while saying, "But I really am a vampire." Then I screamed at the top of my lungs and ran for the stairs, tripped half-way up, and banged my chin hard. I managed to scramble up and out of the basement, and I think mom and dad asked what all the racket was about. I probably told them you were up to your old antics again: trying to scare the daylights out of me.