Monday, October 31, 2005

In a coffin in a castle under a bridge in the ol swamp down in the basement a the ol McMurphy place when the wind blows on a night just like this they say you can still hear the mad mad howling of the ghost pie.

They say it's the size a ten mortal pies an it tastes like horror an pumpkin an the living dead an cinnamon an that time your one true love got turned to stone cause a that oath you swore to the devil an just a touch a nutmeg.

If you hear the ghost pie wail at night you must run for your life or you will be baked and left to cool on a table by dawn. If you are bitten by the ghost pie you must coat yourself in lard and shackle yourself to a pie tin before the rising of the next full moon. If you see the ghost pie in front of you - hold on, is that the phone? Oh, it's for you, here you go, I'll wait. Oh no - it's the ghost pie! And it's coming from INSIDE YOUR HOUSE!

Some say the ghost pie was a real pie once, until it was killed in a terrible tragedy by a jealous spouse or a rival pirate or a drunk driver on the night of its high school prom. Now it haunts the moor forever, lookin for a way to dispel its terrible curse. It is too dumb to figure it out, it's just a pie. So it yells a lot instead. "WOOOOOOOOO," says the ghost pie.

If you see the ghost pie on the road, do not follow it. It will lead you to an all-night truck-stop with bad coffee an overpriced food. The directions you get there will be pretty confusing and'll just get you lost - spoooookily lost. You'll have to stop at a gas station to sort things out later. The gas will be very expensive. "Stupid ghost pie," you'll say.

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posted by fafnir at 9:54 PM




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