CreepCast - There's Something Wrong With Wendigoon | CreepCast

Episode Date: September 28, 2025

TRIGGER WARNING: Child Abuse and depictions of violence. It all starts after a long day at the bank and a pesky beer bottle. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Welcome back to Creepcast. We're back today. We're reading another Elias Witherow story, the Tommy Taffy guy, which I do say we actually just got a most wanted poster and for Tommy Taffy. Did you know that? I did not know that. You see him right here. hi come down the basement you're not my daddy so it actually hurts my feelings more

when it's closer to how i actually look i mean it looks pretty close i was over there he kept he was at the mic he was literally at the mic and he was doing this while we were sitting here waiting for the lights to turn on he was really doing this because you can't you just can't help it big old puff for fish, aren't you? We're reading Elias with a rose. There's something wrong with you were drawing

something and I was like, oh, maybe it's a little bit for the episode. I'll wait. So I didn't ask and then whatever. Go ahead. What are we reading, Hunter? There's something wrong with dad, which is the future story of Isaiah. I'm very excited to see where this goes because I'm now picturing

that you are the dad in this and this is your child. That's how I'm picturing this. And what's even funnier is that when we were reading this, There is a, there's, so there is a not safe for work warning. And there's an immediate, and there's an immediate, and this is the trigger warning off the top too, right? There is a tag right at the top that says child abuse.

I've never seen, I have never seen a story tagged with child abuse. I didn't, it didn't, it didn't, but this one does. And it's by the guy that wrote, which we like Elias with the road. Tommy Taffey is a good story. He also wrote, Feed the Pig. His best work in my opinion. Yeah.

Great author. And then for the. this recording session, our beloved Harry was like, oh, well, you know, let's do this story. How about this one? And we look at it and it says not safe for work and I'm like, okay.

And then click through, tag child abuse. So I trigger warning, I don't have any, we have never read this. I have no idea. Harry has. So whatever happens he said us up with. And he is not, he's being very elusive with what is in.

That further ado, should we just jump right in? I guess. Do we have any... Oh! Yeah, go ahead. We probably have merch by this time. Here's a link to the merch. New merch.

New merch. We have a big backpack. That was a tiny backpack. Yeah. At first. So now there's a bigger backpack. Can you put this on real quick? Stand up and put this on.

There's two. Let me put my... Let me put my fat body on. Hold on. Do we have the big one? It's in the other building. I think it's in the other building. Can we get that big one?

This is the first product sample they sent. So I'm a morbidly obese man. Once again, not morbidly, but. Imagine, imagine you pull out your creepcats backpack and it's this. I think it's a good luck, personally. Oh, did you need my iPad? Hey, you, like, hey, Mike, do you mind if you grab my iPad of my backpack? Nick, call my name as if we're high school buddies.

Or be like, hey, Hunter, can I borrow your notebook? Hey, Hunter, can I borrow your homework? Hey, sure, man. Oh. I just ripped the arm off. That actually Great job, Great job, dude.

We have a better backpack. I'm pretty sure. That was the proto-dry. Declify. Declify the ones. sent out, aren't that? Well, to be fair, you're not a gigantic worm man. You were trying to...

I was just trying to get out of the back. They're not that small. Yeah, that was... Yeah, the actual one. Same design, but bigger. For also all the beautiful audio listeners out there, thank you so much to be Spotify, Apple Podcast for the rating. It's a tiny little bank bank.

All right? There's more than just... No, no, no. Other merch items as well. It was a tiny backpack, and I... If you decided... I shattered it. If you decided to support us.

You would think that it was made of glass. You would almost assume the backpack was made of literal stained glass. Here we go. Now, let me do this one. Now, look at this guy. See, now this is what we want. You made these way to... Yeah, they're for me.

Let me put it on. Hold on. Yeah, here. Actually, that's going to be a funny juxtaposition. Here's it. Now, what we preferred was large cartoonie backpack yes

like goosebumps you're gonna struggle too this is really not a great promo for this product you get that turn around it's a big fucking you want to put your full child in there

yeah you want to throw a baby in there you have a baby sister or baby brother you put several in there you want to come to college with me you want to get in you go to economics there we go I mean look at look at the size difference

Hold on that one up. Hold on, hold on, hold on, hold on. I mean... It's a bit, uh... There you go. Maybe, maybe... Maybe you buy both. It's a Russian nesting doll-style backpack.

Will we do that? I don't know. We have shirts and stuff, too. fuck it. You want to buy it? I don't care. Let's finally get the story. I care. If you all decide to support us there, thank you very much. It means a lot. Who cares? I'm kidding. Now, please don't be mad at me. He is very high energy today. Um, also, hey, shout out to patrons. Yeah, man, good one. Um, shout out the patrons. They, okay. Thank you all very much to the patrons. who continue to support us. It means the world.

Your support means a lot. Let's us keep doing this. So thank you. There's something wrong with Davy. Something wrong with Dad. Elias Witherow, all-time author. Hunter, are you ready to get into it? Let's do it. Let's do it. 15 years ago, something terrible happened to my family.

It's taken a lot of therapy and drugs to help me cope with it. I still think about those days a lot. I can't seem to get some of the images out of my mind. they scare me they keep me up at night I want to forget but I can't seem to my therapist told me

I should write it all out she said that it would help me purge some of these memories I'm not sure if I believe her but I'm going to try I have to I need peace of mind

can't keep living like this a couple things you need to know before I begin one my family didn't believe in technology we didn't have a TV what does that mean it means they didn't have technology

well I'm sure they believe it exists but like they didn't believe in having it might be Amish like Amish Midianite Yeah it might be an Amish story We didn't have a TV A computer a phone anything My dad believed those things would rot your brain out

And he was always happy to tell people just that Two My family didn't like to be bothered Our house was out in the hills down a dirt road We didn't have neighbors We didn't have company It was just us, my mom, my dad, and my brother Jay. My mom homeschooled us, and my dad would take his truck into town to work at the bank.

I wouldn't say we were an unhappy family. My mom, Ann, was caring, kind, and had a passive way of dealing with things. She was a soft-spoken, submissive woman. My brother, Jay, was two years younger than me. I loved my brother. He was a troublemaker, and I constantly had to cover for him, hiding some of his more mischievous action. from our parents.

And then there was my father, Henry. He was an old-fashioned kind of man, strict but honest. He believed in a moral code, believed in being an upstanding example, and was a hardworking provider for our small family. That was before everything went bad.

That was before my father changed. Also, I just want to say the same people that do like, TV will rot your brain out. That's the same guy smoking like menthol cigarettes and drinking Everclear and all that kind of stuff. You're ruining your mind with that. I know people that smoke cigarettes, but won't sleep next to, like, uh, Wi-Fi or Bluetooth. Yeah, yeah, yeah, they have that, we're going to put that phone.

You know, yeah, I don't let it. Yeah, they've got signals, he'll message that. You better seriously, put that phone away. Get away from me. Yeah. Those radioactive waves are fucking my mind, man. Like, eyes completely yellow. Is that a Nokia

Is that? It doesn't have Bluetooth, does it? Don't Nokia for them? Keep that away from me? Get that away from me right now. I was sitting at the breakfast table happily munching my toast. My six-year-old brother set across from me,

slurping down his milk. My father walked into the kitchen and asked Jay to stop being so rude before going to my mother, pecking her on the cheek, bidding her good morning. My mother smiled and helped him with his tie, telling him his lunch was packed for the day

and to come home safe. My dad threw on his sports jacket and grabbed his briefcase from the kitchen counter. Ruffled my hair and leaned down next to me. Are you going to be good for your mom today, champ? This close, I could smell his cologne. His face freshly shaved. He was a good-looking man, tall and dark with broad shoulders. I always looked up to him and admired his physicality.

Yeah, Dad, I'll be good. So I'm not going to say anything yet. Because like any other story, I wouldn't give that a second thought, but just because Well, he's just a giant neon sign At the beginning of the story We had multiple stories like Wee, wee, wee, yeah

Yeah Smiling, my dad went to my brother And asked him the same My brother shrugged his shoulders A goofy grin on his face One of his front teeth was loose And it stuck out at an angle The object of much fruitless wiggling

Maybe today they'll come out He kissed Jay on the forehead And said a goodbye to my mother blowing her a kiss and was out the door. As I finished my toast, heard him fire up the truck and back it down the gravel driveway. My mother began cleaning up the breakfast dishes, telling Jay and I to finish up and fetch our school bucks. I hated school, as all children do. I thought it was boring and a waste of time.

The woods and hills were more interesting to me than words or pencils. Growning, I brushed the crumbs from my shirt and motioned for Jay to come with me to our room to collect our school supplies. The day passed like so many before it. Jay and I sat at the kitchen table, doing our school work, listening to our mother, and trying not to die of boredom. Lunch my mother made us peanut butter sandwiches. We were allowed to go outside for an hour. This was always my favorite part of the school day. Jay and I bound from our house and went to the woods. We climbed trees through rocks at each other, then finally took turns rolling down the grassy hill we lived on. I remember how warm it was that day. The June heat foreshadowing and even hot. or July. We heard our mother calling us back in and we obeyed, stealing ourselves for the final stretch of schoolwork. Hours seemed like years in that kitchen, but three o'clock always came.

When the hands on the old clock made a right angle, we were allowed to close our books for the day. That evening, Jay and I decided to make paper airplanes on the living room floors my mother prepared supper. I remember the delicious smells wafting through the house as we fold a newspaper into planes. Jay had just finished his first one, holding it up proudly, when Dad came home. From the second he walked into the door, I knew it was going to be a bad night. We all have those memories of our fathers, probably when his temper got the better of him and everyone was on eggshells. This was different, though. There was an aura of tension around him that I had never seen before.

He didn't say anything when he walked in, just tossed his coat over the back of a chair and put his briefcase down. my mother turned from the stove and smiled at him welcoming him home and asking how his day was dad said nothing just going to the sink and fill in a glass of water he trained it in one long gulp and set the glass down turned to jay and i something hard and dark in his eyes what are you doing look dad it's a b52 bomber he said proudly swooping his paper plane through the air my father took a step forward suddenly and snatched it from his hand, examining it. He lowered the plane and stared at us. Is this the paper I was reading this morning? I swallowed. Yeah, that was in a bad mood.

I told them they could use it. I thought you were finished reading it. My mother intervened. My dad turned to her. Well, maybe you should ask me next time. Do you think you can handle that? My mom blinked. I'm sorry, honey.

I didn't think it was a big deal. My dad said nothing. just pull the kitchen chair out and sat down watching us I felt uncomfortable I felt like he was looking for an excuse to be angry he wasn't usually like this but there had been a time or two his anger had gotten the better of him

for the most part though he wasn't a violent or even loud person bad day at the bank dear my mother asked stirring a pot full of sauce she was oh I thought she was being I saw stirring a pot and thought it was a metaphor she's actually stirring a form

My mother asked, stirring a pot full of sauce she was preparing. My dad turned to look at her. I had the worst day I've ever had. You can't even imagine. None of you can. The things I go through to put food on this table! My mother turned frowned. I'm sorry to hear that.

Can I get you a beer? Is that your I want a beer? Like, uh, duh. Uh, that he talks to his wife to his wife, too. No. I do. Oh my God, baby, please, could you? my mom went to the fridge and pulled one out handing it to him and putting a hand on my dad's shoulder reassuringly

my dad went to twist the top off but pulled his hand away with a snarl ah shit of course it's not a twist top why would it be such a funny thing to get mad at I guess you need a goddamn opener for everything. Nothing works in this house. Another works on this. Fuck! I could see a drop of blood on my dad's hand from where the cap had cut him.

I began to look for an excuse to leave the room before dinner. Relax, dear. I'll get you a bottle opener. My dad shook his head. Oh, don't bother. Raising his arm. He smashed the neck of the beer against the table. and shattered it. Poured the beer from the fragmented neck into a glass before tossing the empty bottle towards the trash can.

It missed and shattered on the floor. Henry! My mom said her voice of soft hiss. My dad took a long pull and set the glass down, hard on the table. Maybe next time you should just get the goddamn twist off caps. Maybe you should think about me once in a while. Not wanting to fight,

my mom quietly turned around and continued making dinner. My dad took another drink from the glass And looked at Jay and I I quickly looked down at my half-made paper plane And mindlessly fiddled with it I didn't want him to even know I existed right now Tommy My dad called

My heart froze I looked up at him, panicked Were you good today? Was Tommy a good boy for mommy? Voice was condescending His eyes boring to mine I nodded He drained the rest of his beer

staring at me before putting it down to muttering. You better have been. My brother and I tried to melt into the floor. My dad stood and went to the bedroom to get changed out of his work clothes. Let out of a relief and looked at Jay. He grimaced at me and shook his head, his loose tooth jutting from his upper lip. Be good tonight.

I whispered urgently to him. I picked up my plane and decided to stash it in my bedroom. Didn't want to give my dad any excuse to flip out tonight. Out of sight, out of mine. This is like, so far just very tragic. Just a very sad scenario. I feel like this seems like this is legitimately most nights at my house growing up. I feel like it was just doing a thing of being like, hey, how was your day?

Oh, spin me up and let me go. It's like a loose cannon, emotionally immature dad. It's kind of what this reminds me of. It's funny because I was about to be like, yeah, I've heard from people who have had abusive households. I mean, I've never seen my dad also at first. I thought the kid was going to be like, Dad, I've broken glass shards from, like, if you smash the bottle, he would go everywhere.

And you'd be drinking it, yeah. Ah, it's like, cut up his throat and shit. Ah, it's smooth. Just coughing up, blood. Ah. Dad? You good boy? You go to my husband?

Blood, sweating blood. You good boyfriend, mom? Hmm? When is this paper I was reading today, big man? Hmm? Can you read yet? Can you do that? Dad truly has become scary, hasn't he? There's certainly something wrong with that.

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for sponsoring the channel we are now back to the episode as i walked down the hallway towards my bedroom i passed my parents room glanced inside and saw my dad he was standing by the bed shirtless and facing the door for a split second i froze expecting him to bark at me for something then i saw he had his hands over his eyes his elbows jetting away from his body didn't move a muscle stood like that silently like he had been turned to stone I didn't know what to make of it

the odd display unnerving me I didn't stick around to find out what he was doing and quickly scooted down the hall to my room I deposited my plan on my dresser just as I heard my mom call everyone for supper Jay and I trot to the table as my mom placed a steaming bowl of hot spaghetti on it smelling of garlic and basil

Jay rubbed his stomach and swooned expressing to mom how hungry he was. Took my place at the table next to him as my father entered the kitchen. Wordlessly, took a seat at the head of the table, opposite my mother, who shot him a cautious glance. He folded his hands and turned to me. Why don't you say grace for us tonight, Tommy?

nodded and closed my eyes, locking my fingers together. Dear Jesus, think... I jumped as my dad slamed his head down on the table. Jay let out a little squeak and my mom visibly flinched, My dad leaned towards me. Now, Tommy, how do you expect Jesus to hear you when you talk so softly? Start over, but louder.

My heart was thundering in my chest and took conscious effort to keep my voice from shaking. My father's outburst was so sudden and out of character for him that I didn't know how to respond. I lowered my head and began again. Dear Jesus, thank you for the food and thank you for my mom who made it. After a pause I added And thank you for Dad Who goes to work for it? Amen My mom echoed my amen

Amen Told me that was a nice prayer Jay was staring at my dad And he's blooming in his eyes Dead looked at the bowl of spaghetti I saw his jaw clench This again I guess it's not your fault Dan

That you can't cook anything but noodles It's not like your family Had the money to send you to college To make something of yourself Gosh. My gosh. Good Lord. My mom looked up at him. Shock, rippling across her face. My dad met her stare. His face carved from stone. He was daring her to say something to him. Anything. Wisely, my mom lowered her eyes and began spooning out the steaming spaghetti.

Jay immediately dug into his, twirling his fork around the sauce noodles and shoving them hungrily into his mouth. I wist as he slurped down a mouthful, causing the red gravy to squirt from his lips. Dad turned to him, his eyes, ice. Jay? What have I told you about being rude at the table? Jay froze, fork halfway to his mouth. Uh, uh, he stuttered, mind blinking. My dad curled a finger at him.

Come here. Now. I felt my heart sink into my guts and turned to rot. I was breathing heavily, not wanting my brother to be in any kind of trouble. trouble. I watched as he slid from his chair, fearing his eyes. Bring me your plate. He said in the same iron voice. Jay turned and took his plate, slowly walking it over to stand in front of my dad. My father looked him over, shaking his head, his mouth twisting into a grimace.

They didn't raise a pig. But if you insist on being one, you're going to eat like one. This is rough. It's even a horror story. This is sad. Hey, thanks for invite me out on her. Thank God we're back in person reading this, huh? Perry's like, guys, I know a great story.

This will be a good dick on. Dude, honestly, this is going to, the whole, everyone's going to love it. This one, it'll kill. Zero notes. He suddenly grabbed Jay's plate and threw it on the floor, shattering it and spraying spaghetti everywhere. I jumped to my seat again,

forced my eyes away and praying I disappear. My mom gassed and her mouth fell open. my dad pointed to the floor Go ahead son If you're so desperate to be a barnyard animal You can eat like one When is it socially acceptable to kill him From the wife's perspective

When is it like she gets a revolving? I don't think he deserves death But I think you could be like We should get out of here I mean what good does he bring him He threw a plate of spaghetti on the floor Yeah but he's making his son like eat off the floor I hear you

Do I think that calls his death penalty No okay you know i think it's i think you know what though i think that this is this is a good time this is a good let me tell you what this is this is a red flag moment right i thought you were about to lead into an ad read no no no right time to talk about our rich wallet no the uh this is this is this is a thing where this is a time in a person's life which if someone's going through this right maybe there is there is someone who's less than this that's going through it right this is a moment where you say hmm that's a bit of a sign that this is probably not

not the correct environment. I should leave. Yeah. I need to get out of here. Yeah. Which is sometimes hard to do. But, you know. Yeah, you should leave.

Because it will not get better. I think as soon as he lays a hand on the child, I think that's worth it. That's worth it. That's worth shooting him. Yeah. Or cutting off his hands or something like that. Okay. You know what I mean?

I feel like the cut it off. A little plate spaghetti on the floor. It's not so much to throwing the spaghetti on the floor as much as it is making the kid. Well, of course. Of course. So I'm just saying. Yeah. All right.

Yeah. Jay looked at my mom and I could tell he was on the brink of crying I'm sure what to do begging someone for help Henry don't you think you're overreacting a little bit My mom ventured timidly My dad slammed his hands down again His voice rising And if you don't raise these kids to be gung grint

Hate it when the wind blows north I think he's trying to say ungrateful I think he's having a stroke That's kind of it's a good Or he's transforming it looks like he's like Yeah, like something weird is happening to him, yeah. Everyone paused. I had a chance to glance at my dad.

What? It sounded like he switched sentences midway through. My mom said nothing, waiting for her husband to continue. Jay sniffled beside me and I reached out a hand and took his, squeezing it gently. My dad blinked and one of his eyes rolled up into his head and then righted itself. It happened so fast. I almost didn't see it. Cleared his throat and gave his head a quick shake.

my father blinked a few more times and then looked at me and jay saw me holding his hand jay on the brink of tears tommy look over your brother's hand he said his eye twitching slightly i obeyed our sweaty palms separating i watched my father food forgotten my throat dry and mouth parched i didn't understand why he was acting like this i had never seen this hostile towards us i knew that sometimes when he had a bad day at work came home frustrated but never like this What had happened today? Father looked at me in my seat, waving Jay to sit back down. Tommy, your brother was being punished.

Do you know why I punish you, boys? It's so that you understand right from wrong. Now, I just saw you trying to come for your brother. That tells me that you're on his side. That tells me you think it's okay to act like a pig at my table. I shook my head for him. No, no, it's just what I wanted to... My dad cut me off with a wave of his hand.

Stop! Stop! I don't want to have to punish you for lying as well. Padded the tabletop. Put your hand on the table. Shot my mom a terrified look. Begging her for help. Her eyes were wide and her face pale. Didn't know how to react.

I'd never seen her husband so cruel or sharp with us. She was speechless. Afraid that saying something would antagonize my dad further. On the table. people. My dad repeated his voice hardening. Hand shaking.

I placed it on the table, palm down. Jay had started to cry next to me. Tears dripping from his cheeks. My dad picked up his fork. At what point is this just like... Well, he's a monster. Well, yeah, but it's just,

is this not just like torture porn? Well, he's a monster hunter. Oh, okay. I forgot. Yeah, yeah, that's fine. Henry? Mom whispered eyes wide. I looked at my dad, fighting back

my own tears, fear choking me. My father gripped the fork. You need to understand that. He stopped suddenly, coughing hard and then gasped in a dry voice. Don't you hate the wind in the north? He dropped the fork on the table and his mouth fell open,

his tongue stretching to his chin. His eye began to twitch rapidly and he rubbed it viciously, closing his mouth and gritting his teeth. None of us moved. paralyzed by the odd display. I had no idea what he was talking about or why he was acting like this.

Something was wrong with him. That much was clear. After a few seconds, my dad lowered his hand from his face and smiled at all of us. I think you boys understand now. Remember what I said and we won't have to do this again, okay?

Jay and I nodded vigorously. Desperate to get away from the tension, the table, all of this. I felt like I was stuck in some, alternate reality. Nightmare. Just waiting to wake up from. My dad pointed to the floor. Tommy, could you please clean up that mess? As I scrambled to comply, he turned his eye to my mother, looking her up and down where she sat. He began to twirl a spoon in his hand and got a strange look in his eye. It was as if he was evaluating her as a person, taking in all her physical features.

So I was scraping globs of spaghetti into the trash. I heard my father say, Jay can you go around to the back of the house and get me a brick don't

don't like that don't like anything while he's looking at his wife there too of my mom if what for pops

gee dad what is it Jay can you get me a frying pan go to my study and get the katana

Jay Jay, can you go on my study and get the keyblade? What do you want the keyblade for, Dad? And get me Mickey's shield. It's really into King of Hearts. I was kidding, paraphernalia. Fucking, get me Goofy's boots as well. Dad?

What are you talking about? turns it to a violent torture porn, Kingdom Hearts fan fiction. Where did you even get, Kingdom? It was just up there somewhere and you just grabbed it as it went by. I don't know. Okay. I don't know. I heard my brother get up and open the side door to the house.

The hinges creaking in their familiar way. Henry, what's wrong? I heard my mom ask in a hushed voice. Even as I spunched up the mess, I could hear the fear in her voice. my dad didn't respond I finished wiping sauce from the floor just as Jay shuffled back into the house yelled a brick in his hands

dirt staining his fingers cast down eyes he brought it to my father placed it on the table next to him my dad turned to the both of us his voice cold steel now both of you go to your room for the night I'm going to fuck your mother where's Harry

get him in here I'm gonna fuck your mother what's you doing with that brick can you where is hairy what's you doing that brick hold hold on this meeting your mom

we're playing Bob the builder okay can he fix it we need we need we need to why you can call mom's vagina the chimney

no bad bad you're not you don't don't this is not funny this is not cute this is very bad and not good

it's it's funny because It's just, I think if I can, we're not done yet, but if I can assess so far, I think that it's trying to make like a mutation or like an uncanny valley thing out of, like a story out of basically like family abuse or like a paternal abuse situation, right? And then transforming that of like what would be just emotionally unfit parent actually transforming into something is what's going on. It's like a Mr. Hyde kind of thing. The problem with this, which is the same kind of problem that at least I have with Tommy Taffey is that it's just so abrupt. And it's just, it's one of those things where it's like, huh? You know?

He starts it off like, to me, it's not justifiable or not that just far. It's not satisfying enough to just be like, my dad was a great guy. Yeah, he didn't let us have internet. But, you know, he thought it ran our brain out. And all of a sudden, he's just like, I'm going to shove this brick up your mom's vagina. Because that's what he's saying, right? Yeah, that's got to be what he's saying. is yeah wonder why a brick

because it's coarse and painful and huge I mean that's all that makes sense yeah it's torture it's torture it's like this is all torture porn is what it is yeah at this point literally yeah I like how Harry was like they'll love this

okay well I don't think you ever said he'll love this I think he just said that this is like he put it on the docket he did put on the dog I mean he needs to be here you have to kind of fault him a little bit for that yeah he put this all this all this the dog and earlier day when I said let's start with this one he goes that's a good one

Elias witherow too what I've been noticing a big motif is older the perspective always of the older brother younger brother mom and then some kind of and then the dad figure is always like in Tommy taffy wasn't the dad the guy just that was just like didn't he just like listen to the mom well his thing was so there were two families in the first Tommy taffy story he was like oh this happened to me when I was a kid we have to let this play out yeah and then the dad let the mom the basement. Yeah, yeah.

Right? And his daughter. Remember there's the one where the boy comes, his son comes to him and he's like, come here and he could hear the noise in his daughter's room.

And he was like, we just have to ride this out. We're going to have to edit this. And then in the flat, in the second one, which was a prequel about the dad as a boy, his father got killed by Tommy Taffey. Because his dad kept trying to,

His dad was the one that tied him up in the basement, set him on fire and everything. Tommy comes back and, like, drives a steak through his mouth and kills him. Is it, I get, or let's just read it. It's, if both stories put you in an insanely uncomfortable scenario where it's like, I don't want to think about being in this scenario. Because Tommy Daffy is like, what if someone was going to. What if, what if Superman was a pedophile? Yeah.

What if someone was. going to rape your kids and you couldn't do anything about it you just had to be there no he kills you if you try and then he rapes him it's very unforgiving there's i i think that's probably why too is why it feels so bad is that it's like there's really no point like they're it's completely hopeless yeah which i think might be a narrative choice of like the hopelessness of these situations or something yeah because what's a kid gonna do yeah but i wonder if there's a way where is there a way that you could write that to where it's unnerving and not just revolting like is there a way to get across that idea without having it be maybe so literal or what I guess for a horror story revolting can be the

point where it's like gosh that made me uncomfortable and that's like yeah but don't think that's satisfying that it's not a horror I enjoy but it is a kind of horror is that the same kind of stuff because we've had people recommend us the the story like playground I've always hear people talk about playground the book and there's like uh I think that one's more of like sawtrap stuff like wacky ways people get killed okay so I think but is that not you know I guess in a way, is that not torture porn? I mean, similar. Where it's just like, this is a, like, can you imagine going down this thing?

It doesn't really matter. It's like, there's really no escaping it. But it's just like, it was a slide with blades. Yeah. Or whatever. It's just not comparable to that in a way. I think it is in the sense of it's like, that one's a bit different because I would say there's like gimmicks.

So it's part, like a saw traps. It's like the funness of it sort of. Whereas this one's kind of like, don't you hate this? Don't you, I bet you feel real bad. Yeah. Well, I think it's also trying to tap into people where it's just like, I bet you, you know, just tapping into like, I guess that like, that memory of like, I don't know, a fight you maybe had with your parents. Yeah. You know, it's like trying to like twist that in a way where it's fucking to an extreme, obviously.

Yeah. I don't know. Yeah. I heard my mom gasp as Jay and I turned away. Took my brother's hand in mine, heart racing. I was terrified. I rarely heard my dad use that kind of language before and never in such an abrasive manner. As we quickly walked to our room, I looked at Jane, saw his face was a mess of snot, drool, and tear-streaked terror.

His eyes were wet and wide with confusion. He didn't understand any of this. Didn't understand why his father was being so mean to him. I didn't either, and so I gave his hand a little squeeze. I'm sure what else to do. We closed the door to our bedroom and stared at each other. We could hear our dad yelling loudly in the kitchen, his voice rising. Jay covered his ears and ran to his bed, collapsing into his pillow.

I went to him and put a hand on his back as he cried sobs muffled in the cotton then I heard my mom start to scream I felt tears spill from it's like it's such an unnecessary amount of description of like the weeping and just the like

it's excessive extremely excessive again hairy that's a good one start with that one Put it on the docket. Before we're done recording, he needs to come stand in here. He's going to have to have something. He's going to have to pay for his crimes about it.

We've got to put him on trial. I felt tears spill from my eyes, and I began to hyperventilate. Each breath, a desperate attempt for oxygen. Covered my ears and squeezed my eyes shut as something crashed to the floor in the kitchen. More banging followed, and all the while, my mother continued to shriek. The voice rising to an inhuman level. There was agony in her cries along with fear, and I kept waiting for her to stop, but she didn't. He kept going and going and going and going.

Jay was weeping now, shaking his head into his pillow, trying to block out the sound. His whole body was shaking, and it sounded like he was having trouble breathing. I lay down next to him and clutched his body to mine, my own tears spilling into his hair. I didn't know what else to do, didn't know when this horrible nightmare would end. I heard another crash is something shattered in the kitchen I heard my mother howling and the screech of table legs

on the hardwood floor gosh I heard Jay praying to God his horse is so rough dude I just like it's a thing where there probably is people out there who enjoy this like I felt miserable there's things I like that

I'll partake in where it's just the context of everything. The grossness is the appeal. Or not even gross, but just like something that just moves you in a way where it's like, I didn't think that it could make me feel like this. This is just like a record,

this is like a horrible recollection. It feels like a thing that like other people really shouldn't even know about. Yeah. You know what I mean? Like a private, like an intimate thing that someone would tell you where you're like,

oh my God, that's horrible. Yeah. But just having it be so. It's almost like, which kind of get, which is kind of the thing that I guess makes me respect the story a bit where it's like

in the real world there are maybe like some of the elements like the brick and stuff but who knows maybe there was there have been scenarios that intense you know of like spousal abuse oh I mean I'm sure there is but I think the context of like

I guess learning about these things is I guess it's like if I mean I don't know it's just the intimate nature of you're not knowing somebody you're coming this is the first time it's just like such a whiplash yeah to be like what it's just all at once you know and it's just grueling it's also someone it's it's almost like i guess it depends on the context you enter it with as a reader as a reader yeah torture torture as a reader as you're reading it i guess it depends on the context you enter it because

if you're going to talk about a story about like spousal abuse something that intense then i don't think you should pull punches you know no i don't think you have to hide stuff but i just i guess it's just uh i still i mean i haven't finished it but so far it does not feel it doesn't even not even say classy is the wrong word i just think it feels excessive to the point of i guess just like how else can i twist the knife more right right yeah which i don't i don't particularly find interesting not my kind of thing but like i said maybe for somebody maybe for somebody and also because like there's real world scenarios like this. I do kind of

respect in that sense not pulling punches. It's kind of like the first time I watched Schindler's list where it's like oh my gosh for two hours and then at the end you're like well I guess it would have been worse if they didn't show it right if they downplayed how bad it really was so you know

yeah I don't know I don't know also I'm not smart enough to articulate my thoughts like that. I guess I guess the difference between Schindler's list and this is that that is a real thing that happened and to pull away from and to not show the horrors of it would maybe be disrespectful versus this is a fictitious thing that can happen to real people. Well, here's the thing. I'm not saying a lie specifically, obviously. You are. No. But maybe this was like based on a real story. I probably imagine it was. So if it was then similar to Schindler's list, maybe it would be. illegitimate to pull back on some

of the more gruesome details to a degree I guess yeah maybe maybe maybe I don't know if that's the case the two I don't know it feels like to also fabricate that story in a way where it's like I'm gonna make characters around this horrible thing that happened to me yeah he's like he's also like a monster that's kind of like that's a good point yeah I think that would be a bit

tasteless in my opinion yeah yeah I know it makes sense I heard Jay praying to God his voice trembling I clutched him tighter realizing seemed that I was sobbing as well. My whole body felt like it was a quivering mass of jello. My muscles weak and useless. It was more terrified than I'd ever been in my life. Finally, my mother stopped screaming.

Soft hush fell over the house. I didn't hear anything except the blood pumping in my ears. Chad quieted to a series of soft sniffles. His face still buried in the pillow. I looked up from the bed, staring at the closed bedroom door. I begged it to remain shut. I heard movement in the house, footsteps that came down the hall. It stopped on the other side of the wall in my parents' bedroom.

I heard shuffling and then the door shut. I waited and prayed. Jay shifted next to me and I told him to be quiet, wiping tears from his face and holding him close. More footsteps in the house, heavy, slow paces. I thought for sure my mom was dead. People didn't scream like that and live. our bedroom door open Jay let out a little scream

and shrunk into me as my dad entered he was crawling on all fours his oh monster man he was crawling on all fours his mouth hanging open drool running down his chin his eyes rolled back into his head

he shuffled side to side across the floor slowly opening and closing his mouth spittle leaking from his face he was blinking rapidly one of his eyes rolling forward to stare at us. After a few seconds, he coughed, hacking up flim, growling, he wiped his lips and stood, looking down at us, cowering on the bed. Come with me.

He said, his voice a low rattle in his chest. I didn't move. Jay shrunk further against me. I could feel his body shaking against mine, sweat, beating on his skin. The dad took a step towards us. Get up, both of you, right now. Where's mom? He was standing in front of us now.

She's resting. She's had a long day. No, get up. Jay shifted against me, and then he was sliding to the floor. Without much choice, I followed his example. My dad placed a hand on each of our shoulders and guided us towards the door. We were directed through the house. I listened for my mother. What had he done to her? Where was she? Was she dead in the bedroom? I didn't hear anything. No clues as to her condition or where she was. We entered the kitchen and I saw that the table was pressed against the cabinets.

and a few of the dinner glasses as I lay shattered on the floor. Expected to see blood smeared across the floor dripping down the surfaces, but there was none. At least, that was until I saw the brick. It had been placed on the counter by the sink. Half of it was soaked in thick, oozing blood.

When I saw it, I felt my body tense up. My dad must have felt the change in my stance because his grip tightened on my shoulder. Jay was sniffling beside me, his eyes cast down, refusing to look up and potentially see the horrors my father had bestowed on my mother. My dad pushed us

through the side door outside. The night air was humid and sticky on the skin. A fat yellow moon hung in the sky like an out-of-place Christmas ornament. Stars twinkled across the black canvas and my ears were filled with the sound of chirpy night critters. Contrary

to inside, everything felt alive out here, pulsing in unison to the night's dark heartbeat. We were led around to the back of the house towards our old shed. My dad didn't keep much out there, just a few tools and the rickety lawnmower, both of which weren't used much throughout the year. I didn't like the shed.

Something bad had always haunted me. At night, as I lay in bed, I would imagine some creature hiding inside, waiting until I fell asleep before emerging and creeping into my room to watch me. Jay and I jerked to a halt as my dad squeezed our shoulders. Wait here. He said his voice sounding far away and strange. Clansed up from my shoulder and saw he was rubbing. in his eyes.

I want to go back in. I want mom. Jay sobbed, wiping his nose with the back of his hand. You can go in, win. Came up and traveled in the wind. A dad said, his sentence fracturing

into two nonsensical statements. He coughed hard and stuck his tongue out like he had a bad taste on it. I saw a shudder rack his body and he looked like he was about to gag. He gained control of himself with a quick shake of his head,

closing his mouth so hard his teeth clicked together. I watched as he came around us and walked towards the shed. He looked back, making sure we were obeying, and then went inside. Jay looked at me, his eyes full of fear. He expected me to have some kind of explanation, an answer to the madness that surrounded us. I could have some of the words to comfort him, did to know what combination of soothing syllables I could possibly string together to calm his tear.

What was he going to do with us? whispered the warm moonlight shining in his eyes. gonna be okay said softly the words tasting like a lie we heard movement from the shed our father's actions hidden behind the closed door warm breeze stirred the distant trees and the night was filled with the sound of rustling leaves my hair danced across my forehead in the wind and i begged to blow away with it jane i remained frozen in place neither of us knowing which would be worse facing whatever my father was preparing or running away and facing the wrath that came after it's not like we had anywhere to run i mean where can we possibly go?

How could we flee? Who could we flee to? Minds were trapped inside our youth doomed to the almighty authority of our father. See, paragraphs like that, I see where it's coming from with like the father being a monster

as representative of like real scenarios like this. 100%. That's very clear. I see the vision. That's very clear. I mean, the idea of even personifying into a horror story of the monsters our parents become or reverect.

revealed to be through you know like a work workplace thing your dad loses his job he changes he goes you know this could be a personification of the dad being an alcoholic something like that that all is that is totally clear you know what I mean when we finish it I'll have more thoughts

on it but I do like I mean like it's very clear that's I think what the story is trying to get to you know what I mean yeah yeah I think so the shed door opened snapping me out of my thoughts my dad stepped back into the night his figure draped in shadows and dark moon light. Both of you get inside. Jay grasped my arm as we shuffled forward, our father stepping aside

to let us pass. The smell of rotting wood and old grass salted my senses and I rubbed my hand across my nose trying to scrub the stench away. My dad had illuminated the cramped space with an old electric lantern. Set on the workbench on the right, our small loan mower catching the light on its dull metal surface. Tools piled around the lantern, an array of rusted hammers, screwdrivers and pliers. I couldn't remember the last time I doubt had actually used any of them. But all of that was seen with a passing glance. That wasn't what held my attention.

Something else did. My eyes drawn to it like firing gasoline. Jay's fingernails dug into my skin as he saw it too, his breath catching in his lungs. A noose hung from the crossbeam, dangling down into the empty space. The rope was knotted tight, twisting cords more menacing than anything on the workbench.

Oh, look who decided to show up Look who decided to show up We have some questions We have a lot of questions for this story Once we're done Okay, all right My dad entered behind us shutting the door He went and stood by the noose

motioning me forward Come on now Tommy Let's get this over with Dad I croaked mouth trying Voice cracking like a dead twig What are you gonna What are you gonna do?

Heart was pressed against my ribs throwing itself against bone, a wild beast in my chest. Dad traced the hanging loop with his fingers. You're going to be my wind chimes, son. You're high rolls. It's cringe. You're going to be my wind chimes, son. I need to know

when the wind will blow north. I think he'll be a good chime. Once I'm to your insides out, but I'll do that after. Why are you doing this, Daddy? Jay cried what tears rolling down his cheeks. He didn't answer. Just waited for me to go to him. I didn't move. Didn't know what to do. Was he serious about going through with this? He couldn't be. This was my father. He loved me. He would

never do anything to seriously hurt me. At this age, blind trust is a dangerous thing. It filled me. The memories and kindness my dad had shown me over the years. I trusted him. He was my father. but that darkness in his eye that black spark terrified me reality and faith collided together in my mind like oil and water the mixture turning my stomach and sick horror

my father gripped the hanging rope if you don't come over here right now I'm gonna use Jay instead felt my brother bury his face into my side weeping no no no no no no over and over again his tears damp on my shirt

I wrapped an arm around his head, feeling a sweaty hair brush over my skin. My heart was audible in my ears. My lips cracked and dry, breath coming and stuttering heaves. Dad! I cried, feeling myself began to cry. Dad, I don't want to. Please, Dad! The face was flush as the fear came bubbling out of my face in wet streaks. My father suddenly reached out and grabbed me, gripping my arm and yanking me towards the rope.

I let out a cry and fell towards him. His hands hard and strong. pushed and shoved me, positioning me under the rope, its shadow a dark halo over my head. Jay was screaming openly. His face red and terrified. He just stood there, helpless, as my father pulled the noose down and slid it over my head.

That's going to hang me. Thought hit me like a knife to the heart. My knees were weak and knocked together. My whole body trembling and horrific anticipation. The rope around my neck scratched and rubbed against my skin, coarse and itchy. This was really about to happen. Up until this point, I didn't believe my father was capable of such sins,

especially to his own son. My dad was my hero, a strong, supportive pillar, an example to my brother and I. Now I waited with bated breath for him to kill me. Here we go. Dad said, positioning himself behind me and grabbing, dangling into the rope hung from the crossbeam. I heard a tighten of cords, the rope stretching and straining. Suddenly, my throat was...

store. You want to hear a first person first person hanging? Here we go. Suddenly my throat was clamped with hot fire, a burning agony that cut it up into my chin

so I was lifted off my feet, kicked my legs frantically impossibly helpless, my hands grabbing at my neck. Couldn't get my fingers between the rope, my skin, the tension denying any space

to dig my nails into. My head swelled and I felt the blood in my face ready to pop out of my eyes and mouth. I hacked and coughed, horrible gagging wretches exploding from my lips as I tried to breathe. My vision began to swim and my colors began to blend. I felt myself dying. Suddenly, the pain was gone.

A halo of fire around my throat vanishing. I pulled my knees hit the hard floor and I crumpled into myself. I sucked in deep lungfuls of air, the oxygen never tasting any sweeter in my life. As the world began to focus again, I realized my father was screaming. I blinked back the dizziness and focused my eyes. eyes, pushing the shadows away. My father was against the back wall, clutching his side and howling, his blood bubbled from his shirt.

Jay stood next to him, weeping, screaming, his right arm soaked with blood up to his elbow. He was holding a rusty box cutter. It's played dripping. Don't hurt Tommy. Don't hurt Tommy! There you go. What's about to him? I like how I just...

Don't do that. You're dead, mad man. Sorry, Dad. Jay was howling through wet eyes. Don't hurt him, Dad! Hand pressed to his side. My dad swiped at Jay, trying to snatch the box cutter. Jay jerked back and almost tripped over himself, letting out another shriek.

Look at what you did to me! My dad grimace, pulling his hands away and revealing a deep gash in his side. A shirt tattered him red. He struggled to my feet, reaching out and pulling Jay towards me. Took the box cutter from him and put a hand on my throbbing head. I'm okay. It's going to be okay. Suddenly my dad lunged for me, pushing himself off the wall using his back. Without thinking, I slashed him, a purely defensive reaction.

Time seemed as slow as I watched the blade catch my dad in the arm, the blade eating into his skin. Cut through the flesh like soft butter, parting his wrists like a bloody zipper. Blood squirted into my eyes, and I heard my dad scream, pulling his arm back and cradling it on his chest. He slumped to the floor, his face pale and full of fury. He was breathing hard, and I could tell it wouldn't be long before he steadied himself and was at us again. I grabbed Jay and ran from the shed, the night behind us, filling with howls of rage. As the air hit our tear-stained faces, I suddenly noticed trucks roaring down the road and up our driveway.

They were bulky and loud, diesel engines growling towards us, blinding white lights cut past through the night, shining across my bloody face as two, three, then four of them stopped in front of our house. they were camouflaged even at that age I knew they were military what what what is going on

my exhausted terrified mind asked I pulled Jay close to me and advanced on them unsure what they were doing here but desperately needing of help too many merged from a white van dressed in hazmat suits

it's in a shiver of fear coursing through me as they charged Jay and I yelling and waving their arms. I froze in the yard, Jay trembling beside me. Men in uniform poured from the other vehicles, guns drawn all pointing at us. They all had gas masks on

and it gave them a chilling, inhuman look in the moonlight. Everyone was shouting as the men in the hazmat suits approached Jay and myself. I back up and step as they get close, gripping the box cutter in my bloody hand. I didn't know who these people were or why they were pointing guns at us.

I needed to protect Jay. he had been through enough we both had it's okay kid it's okay one of the men in the suit said raising his hands the other one had a pistol drawn scanning the yard where is he one with the pistol asked i stammered mine blanking and fear and confusion you dad where's your dad kid through the suit i could see blue eyes reflecting back at me he's in there jay cried suddenly pointing to the shed he wanted to hurt tommy so i got him i had to i'm sorry i didn't want him to hurt i didn't want tommy to die first one looked at the one with the pistol and gave a quick gnawn i watched as he trod over to the shed and peeked inside he looked back and gave the three of us a wave and then a thumbs up to the men and gas masks then he entered the shed and i heard him kill my father the gunshot exploded in the night and i jumped the finality of it deafening i stood there dumbfounded bloody confused and terrified i didn't know who these men were what they were doing here or why they had shot my dad clutch jay to my side who was staring up at me with giant round eyes.

Did that man just kill Dad? He asked his voice, a shaky whisper. The man in the hazmat suit shook his head. Son, you don't have anything to worry about. It's going to be okay now. He won't hurt you anymore. Someone was yelling behind him, and I glanced over his shoulder to see

the men in masks had gone into our house. One of them was calling for a medic, frantically waving his hand to get inside. My mother, I prayed she was okay. and these men could help her. I didn't know what my father had done to her, but I remembered the screams. What's going on? I whispered as I watched the man with the pistol exit the shed.

He was yelling towards the soldiers, asking for something. My ears not registering his calls. My world was crashing down around me in inky patches of disbelief and shock. The man knelt down in front of us, placing a hand on each of us, our shoulders. Boys, I really shouldn't be the one to tell you this, especially right now. I looked at him with moist eyes. My dad just tried to hang me Please

I can see shock ripple through his eyes Through the hazmat visor He looked at both of us Struggling with himself Please I begged desperate to make any kind of sense Of the madness Man sighed

Boys Something happened today I really don't think I should be the one to tell you But He looked at us again Boys something bad happened By the bank where your dad worked There was some kind of earthquake

Very minor but I cut a deep gash in the earth it opened up a pocket of something that we've never seen before some kind of gas the wind carried it towards the town and he looked to the ground shaking his head killed a lot of people

a lot of people we're trying to contain it keep whatever it is from spreading is that why you shot dad J.S. quietly sniffling and rubbing his nose because he had to go to the bad because he got the bad wind on him? The man

looked up at both of us. His eyes fearful. Boys, your dad died this morning along with everyone else at the bank. He took his body to containment to performing an autopsy on him as we speak. I'm really sorry. Damn it, I am.

I felt my brain been backwards on itself. Mess of nodded thoughts and emotions. the words hitting me like bullets. What was this man talking about? Dad died this morning. It was impossible. He came home from work. It's like every other day.

Dad's body was lying dead in the shed. This man was lying. He had to be. Then who's in there? Finally asked the question coming out in a weak treble. Man shook his head. Son, whatever's lying dead in that shed. It isn't your father.

You see, something else came out of the earth this morning. something other than poisonous gas something that crawled up to the surface and got out something that for whatever reason took the form of your father and drove home to you all witness is solemn it leaving you only wanted to get out when we found your dad's body we didn't know what to make of it we still don't

that thing in there he said pointing to the shed we don't know what it is or what it was trying to do but that is not your father shook his head shit I'm really sorry kids I really didn't I really shouldn't be telling you all this

I'm sorry about your dad I really am he stood up come on we need to get you to the hospital and have you checked out it's gonna be okay I promise I barely heard him as Jay and I

led to the trucks saw men carrying my mother out of the house on a stretcher she was alive and barely conscious but when she saw she reached out and called our names they started crying again and I sprinted to her I wanted to as well

but found I didn't have the strength everything the man had told me twisted and coiled around my mind none of it made sense none of it could possibly be real couldn't be how could my entire life change so drastically in one night

what was going to happen to us now where were they taking us were we going to be okay at the time I didn't know I felt someone grass something out of my hand and I realized one of the soldiers was trying to pry the box cutter out of my grip. I let go.

The rusty metal peeling away from my palm played staining it in sticky red splotches. What had happened tonight? Looked back and saw the men in hazmat suits pulling my dad's dead body from the shed and zipping it up in a clear plastic body bag. A final thought rippled through the madness.

What the hell is that thing? The end. So a so a goblin crawled through a poisonous gas to come out take the form of this random man's body go home, shove a brick in a woman's pussy

and then threaten to hang some kids and they're like, yeah, I don't know what's happening. Boys, you know what really pisses me off about that? I shouldn't be telling you this, boys. Boys, son, boys. I shouldn't be telling you this. Never mind. Okay, I'll tell you.

I shouldn't be the one to do it. I shouldn't be the person. I'll tell you, but I shouldn't be the one. Goblins are real. I should have said it. No, I've said too much. I've said too much. Never mind.

I've said not enough and too much at the same time. That's why the brick win the pussy. I should have even said that. What am I doing? I hate that ending because it also, I feel like we were given the, the, we're giving it. We're giving it way too much credit for being like, oh, it's a thing about, you know, domestic abuse and violence. growing up and you kind of realize the faults of your parents and how really how nasty they can be

and, you know, the perception of all that and how it would, nope, it's a goblin, poison goblin, bad goblin, poison goblin from the bank in town, killed everyone. What is going? Wait, how could this all happen in one day? My life's upside down. I shouldn't even tell you this. It was, it became like a freaky Friday thing. Like, it just totally jumps. Jamie Lee Curtis and Lindsay Lohan of Switchbodies. Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. Just. At the bank. And you know what's crazy about this is actually a really good example of framing because I was thinking about it at the end when the guy was describing like there's a gas that makes like before he revealed he was dead. No, when he revealed he was dead and I thought he was resurrected or something, but instead it was a goblin. But was that, it reminded me of Greylock. Do you remember in Greylock how all the miners died and their bodies reanimated? Yeah, that was sick. So imagine if in Greylock there was a short that was this where it's one of the mine workers coming home and being. super violent and then transforming slowly, that would work because Greylock starts with the big picture. It starts with like, this is a big mine company and there's something in the earth.

I think that you can even have the thing of like, let's just say it's the poisonous gas that transforms them. And that's like, that's representative of something of the dad taking something and changing, right? Whatever. That's all fine. I think another thing that just since we're all done with it now, since the story's buttoned up, since the brick. has been laid, so to speak. I hate it's not fun

or rewarding reading something that's like yeah, I don't know. We fucking, yeah, you throw the plate on the floor and make him eat like a pig. It's, you know, it's almost something it's like, well, it'd be fucked up. Yeah, you put a fucking rake on his back and he scratch his back and he's got a fucking

strips of blood in his back. Yeah. It's like, oh yeah, that wood stuck. would, wouldn't it? Yeah, it's like, and he's crying too. And, like, you just, you can see the tears forming from his tear ducts and he's like fucking mumbling something to God, but it doesn't matter because that motherfucker's not helping. And I take it, I take a rabid raccoon, I shove it up his asshole. And you're like, that would be crazy. Yeah, it's like, isn't this awful? But then all the stuff we were giving it like, well, maybe it's being that awful because it's trying to be like representative

of real world scenarios. That would make sense. But then to the end, it's like, no, it's the poison goblin. It's the poison goblin from the bank. That's what it ends. Like, okay, well then the, I do think there is ways, because what you're getting out earlier with, does it cheapen a thing to be like, you're put through, like, if it was about this traumatic thing, right?

Yeah. If you want to be stuck in that, I understand what you're trying to get at there. I think that what we're really saying with that is if the goal of this thing is to be something where it's like, you realize the faults of your parents or like, let's just say it's like the repressed trauma or you like, you know, you, you, you get to a certain age and you are able to realize

that maybe your parents are the people who they say they are. I think that's fine to put people in that scenario to be like, and then you're stuck. Like if you're building out you're building out a scenario. It's the first time you notice. It's like that catalyst, that catalyst moment where it's like you're here and that

your senses are heightened. I heard every single thing. But this whole story is just like, yeah, I shit in a fucking diaper and I put razor blades in a diaper and it cuts a little under some of my balls. Yeah. And it hurts. It's just like, yeah, that would be pretty fucked up. Yeah, that's why it's not satisfying.

I think that you can have a thing where you do, maybe you do have a guy shove a fucking brick and a pussy somehow. And it is alluded to something. It, like, can be, it reminds me of, like, some of the Rob Zombie horror films. Well, yeah, that's just, it's the grind house aesthetic of, like, people screaming. And it's just like, isn't this just fucking gross and terrible? Yeah. And even then, like, it's just, I guess that's the biggest complaint.

The biggest complaint I have is that I gave it credit for, which also, too, we have, and I say, I will say, I have seen this too. Are we the most, what is it? What is it, what is it called? It's like, uh, comprehend, like literacy, comprehension, whatever. No, we're, we're not the most literate. No, there's times where I'm like, there has been times. And I, exactly. And this is me just shooting from the hip here of what I've just read, because there's been times in the show where we're halfway through a four hour story. And I'll be like, it's a girl. Yeah. You know? Or like how it took us like seven hours into mother horse eyes to be like, oh, this is a cat. Yeah.

This is a cat telling the story. Yeah, which I still didn't even know. At the end, I was just like, I had no idea with the cat. Had no idea. So I guess for what I'm seeing here is that from just the blatant part of reading, which is a more condensed story, but I, it's just, it's excessive to be excessive. Which is also why I think some people have complaints. with, like, the shit, like, playground.

Yeah. Or, you know, like, there's a, there's, like, another one that that guy wrote where it's like, I don't know, the picture, the cover of the book is like, it's like a really gross kitchen or something. And it's all about, like, a guy being like, yeah, just, like, kidnapping and torturing a person. Well, it's also, like, um, with,

out of train of thought, I completely lost it. It's, it's hard to justify all the torture porn stuff because I do think that there's, like, there is merit to things of, building up a narrative that is just like this is about this repressed thing and it's a heightened version of everything. So everything that's happening, it's like you're in it and you're trapped in this nightmare. And I think it is supposed to be tackling things where it's like, you've probably had something like this and this is the heightened version of that. But it's also so

easy to just be like, yeah, it just reads as cheap. I guess is what I say. It feels cheap. It feels like it's a very quick way of being like, yeah, and her fucking fingernails fall off and she's trying to scratch a bug itch but it won't fight it's still it's well at the end of it too it's again I was giving it benefit of the doubt of like well maybe this will get to a place where it's about real world things and at the end it's like some supernatural it wasn't set up

boys yeah it wasn't like delivered on to where it was like representative of the real trauma so it's like the real trauma was just set dressing for the goblin I mean it wasn't even set dressing or was this just a thing where it's like wouldn't it be crazy if your dad came home and he like just fucking like shoved a brick up your mom Well, I think it was like, it's so over the top.

And then all of that. Your dad comes home. Like, there was a, there was a thought. And I could be, the literacy comprehension could be completely wrong. I want to put that out there. Right. Wouldn't it be crazy? This is a straight of thought.

Yeah, your dad comes home. He's like, go outside and get a brick. I'm going to fuck your mom with it. And you're like, that's, that's not cool. Right. And then at some point, there was a pause. and he was like, and then the earth cracks open

and there's mustard gas and gobbels. Like those were the same train of thought. Where was that connection? Well, I feel like, I have no idea. I have no idea. When I heard the gas, I was like,

that's supposed to be something about substance abuse or something. It's what I was thinking. It's something where it's like, your dad breathing this thing. That's not really who he is. But no, dad's dad.

Yeah. That's dad. But then it's like, no, he died right there. There's a ghoul that came out of the ground. And then for some reason, he looked at your dad.

Yeah. He looked at your dad, and he's just like, yep, transformed into him. Yeah. And he's just like, I'm going to go home and I'm going to, I'm going to, like, I'm just going to strip up. Also, I know where you live. Yeah, yeah. I know where he lives. And he gets in the car.

He gets in the car. And he goes home and he's like, I need a beer, honey. Yeah, exactly. He's like, fucking long. And also, he's carrying the emotional baggage of like, fucking long day at the bank. Yeah. As if you guys even fucking care. And then all of a sudden, he's like, eating off the floor, you fat pig.

Yeah. My fat son. Yeah. He's like spaghetti again as if he knows she's been making spaghetti. And then also, this is the biggest part, though, Isaiah. Okay? Poisoning ass, sure. Goblin. Cron on the ground. Sure, he knows.

Then the goblin, who has not been to the backside of the house, knows that there's a brick pile outside the back of that. Yep, yeah. Unless he's just like, unless he was driving in, he's like, and he saw it there. There's the brick pile. How'd you know about the brick pile, goblin man? Which I guess, to be fair, if he knew exact where the coordinates were to the house,

then. Look, this, the story is, uh, it's not my thing. there's people like we mentioned earlier who the enjoyment to them is the brutal nature of it like oh that's messed up which if you like it good for you just not my flavor it can be done correctly

I think anything can be done there like I said there is probably a story out there where if I saw a guy being like yeah I'm shoving a brick up there yeah in a way where I was like damn that hit somehow don't know how I've got to love to find out how where I'm like okay I'm in

all right we turn in the right direction you know what I mean but all of all I just Harry actually you know what Harry Harry come over here what was the justification for reading this one was it just because it was an Elias Witherow piece no hold on get up here let him use your mic

yeah that's what I'm gonna look at this walk of shame coming in here we were supposed to we were supposed to read Shell Silversteins where those sidewalk ends and earlier I'm like how about this one you're like that's a good one so what about this story made you well hold on in my defense I

I did make the list, although you pick this story from the top of the list. So it was Isaiah, who's a real choice. No, no, no, no, no, no, my mic now. He, he had a list of six stories, all of which we're reading during this trip. And he goes, which should we do first? And I'm like, oh, we'll start with the lias. This was on a list of six that he compiled. That part is true.

I will, that part is true. This is the first time in podcast history, where the, where the, we're the, producer has to defend himself. Like, what are you talking about? Yeah. And I just want to say that can we confirm that you did pick it from the top of the It was my list. It was my botched list, but you did pick it from the top.

We were going to read it. Was it a blindfire because it was a lies with row? Was it a blindfire? So, wait, can I? Yes. Well, let me explain. At the beginning, he said, I also wonder what happened to the high. He's so hot right now.

Can I, can I at least, I was not here. I'm hot because you're like, Isaiah did this. Okay, for the record, looking at the camera, Isaiah did not do this. Can I at least get the line read? Because part of the whole reason I picked this story is because I wanted to hear the quintessential line. I'm going to fuck your mom. I miss, I wasn't here when that I had to, I was doing chores. You, wait, so you didn't read that part?

No, I did. No, I said, I didn't. Oh, you want me to read it out loud? he's saying he picked the story so that there would be a sound by I thought it'd be funny I thought it'd be funny I thought it'd be funny you know what I think you I think you put us in a little

bit of rough pumpkins I think people are going to be I think people are going to be upset I think that is an absurd reason okay this one won't come out for a while so there's that yeah it's fucked up by the time this comes out we're going to be like oh fuck I forgot about that one well there's your story sorry guys thanks for the

thanks for the uh hey it seriously I hope none of you guys fucking... Thanks, Harry! Hope none of you guys get fucking razor wire on your fucking dicking balls and your fucking... Hey, I...

Hey, by the way, also, I'm gonna fuck your mom tonight with this fucking rusty shovel. All right, bye. Is that hit? That's good, I think. That's it. I don't know.

I don't know. I'm going to be. And so. And so. I'm going to be. I'm going to. And so. And so.

And so. And... I don't know. I don't know. I don't know. ... ... ...