Like Blake and his leper colony in John Carpenter's THE FOG, By Campfire, We Conspire-
Tonight, an old lifeguard, a highfalutin bitch and the bookworm of the school tread deep fucking trouble in the shallow end of the pool.
Here you can sip on bottomless coffee, stay up late and await your own ocean bottom bed made up by the un fucking dead.
Can you sense the undead calm, or is it dead calm leprosea, either way there's a water wraith and a school pool drowning spree.
Good Evening, Match Scratchers!
"When midnight chimes, we both will meet,
Podcasting slick, sick tales to scare;
Master your fear, stoke dying heat--
Embrace the coal's glowing orange glare."
Welcome to CAMPFIRE SCARYTALES, where our campsite will affright till morning light.
If you once enjoyed, still enjoy or will enjoy henceforth, and in perpetuity, Nickelodeon's very own Are You Afraid of the Dark? broadcast that terrified tot and teen alike in the early 90's, then you will feel right at home on the forsaken rocks, atop the speaker's stone throne while occupying temporary, nocturnal space in this chillingly convenient clearing where fellow match scratchers meet to pour tales of terror upon an open flame.
These terrifying testimonies are far from tame, the most unnerving, unsettling and upsetting scarytale wins the game and striking matches, along with striking deeply into your core fear gland, proves their aim. If you're soon too frightened or anxious to sleep, if you intend to scream but can nary muster a peep, if your once spry movements retard to a lumbering creep, in becoming a slave to your fears, you have but yourself to blame.
Between midnight and first light we meet, our appetites prepped for delicious tales of fright, in your own unease, crawling skin, tingled spine and sweaty brow we take delight, it will be hours before you can see anything beyond our proximal campfire light, our weekly night light, we cleared, constructed and consecrated this campsite, in our Match Scratch Society we revel in delight, it is both our sacred and unholy duty to, your fears, incite, this cold cord of wood ignite--your amygdala affright, if, by some miraculous design, you survive the scarytale of the night, then it is your solemn Campfire Scarytale duty to find your Match Scratcher ass back to this haunted hollow with your own flashlight!
Today, you are tricked or treated, depending on your point of voodoo with our eleventh submission tale of terror.
Between midnight and first light, strike a match and, a new batch of dismaying, fears and anxieties not allaying, tales hatch; the goal is to, the last told tale, outmatch and leave the loser, to the victor, begging for a rematch…with that Match Scratchers, sleep deeply and remember to, your bedroom window, latch.
Podcasted for the Auditory Approval of the Match Scratch Society, we whisper, through the mic, our fireside submission, sometime between midnight and first light of Campfire Scarytales:
Submission 11: Dead Man's Floating Salvage Society--Oceanic Panic/Undead Calm (Bottomless Coffee/Water Wraith Set Free); (Old Salvor Bloke and Her Butterdie Stroke); (Water Demons, Dead Man's Float)
-Your host: That's Falsetto, No Mr. accent on the to and co-host: Dr. Red Devil with a REH REH REH
Until next time, Match Scratchers!
Remember, only you can prevent forest fires, call out Campfire Scarytale imposters and disloyal match scratcher liars!
(Procrastinated Statement) *Intro/outro song, Surrender, courtesy of the artist, Asher Fulero, with a medley of sound effects added for, you guessed it, effect.
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By Falsetto ProphetLike Blake and his leper colony in John Carpenter's THE FOG, By Campfire, We Conspire-
Tonight, an old lifeguard, a highfalutin bitch and the bookworm of the school tread deep fucking trouble in the shallow end of the pool.
Here you can sip on bottomless coffee, stay up late and await your own ocean bottom bed made up by the un fucking dead.
Can you sense the undead calm, or is it dead calm leprosea, either way there's a water wraith and a school pool drowning spree.
Good Evening, Match Scratchers!
"When midnight chimes, we both will meet,
Podcasting slick, sick tales to scare;
Master your fear, stoke dying heat--
Embrace the coal's glowing orange glare."
Welcome to CAMPFIRE SCARYTALES, where our campsite will affright till morning light.
If you once enjoyed, still enjoy or will enjoy henceforth, and in perpetuity, Nickelodeon's very own Are You Afraid of the Dark? broadcast that terrified tot and teen alike in the early 90's, then you will feel right at home on the forsaken rocks, atop the speaker's stone throne while occupying temporary, nocturnal space in this chillingly convenient clearing where fellow match scratchers meet to pour tales of terror upon an open flame.
These terrifying testimonies are far from tame, the most unnerving, unsettling and upsetting scarytale wins the game and striking matches, along with striking deeply into your core fear gland, proves their aim. If you're soon too frightened or anxious to sleep, if you intend to scream but can nary muster a peep, if your once spry movements retard to a lumbering creep, in becoming a slave to your fears, you have but yourself to blame.
Between midnight and first light we meet, our appetites prepped for delicious tales of fright, in your own unease, crawling skin, tingled spine and sweaty brow we take delight, it will be hours before you can see anything beyond our proximal campfire light, our weekly night light, we cleared, constructed and consecrated this campsite, in our Match Scratch Society we revel in delight, it is both our sacred and unholy duty to, your fears, incite, this cold cord of wood ignite--your amygdala affright, if, by some miraculous design, you survive the scarytale of the night, then it is your solemn Campfire Scarytale duty to find your Match Scratcher ass back to this haunted hollow with your own flashlight!
Today, you are tricked or treated, depending on your point of voodoo with our eleventh submission tale of terror.
Between midnight and first light, strike a match and, a new batch of dismaying, fears and anxieties not allaying, tales hatch; the goal is to, the last told tale, outmatch and leave the loser, to the victor, begging for a rematch…with that Match Scratchers, sleep deeply and remember to, your bedroom window, latch.
Podcasted for the Auditory Approval of the Match Scratch Society, we whisper, through the mic, our fireside submission, sometime between midnight and first light of Campfire Scarytales:
Submission 11: Dead Man's Floating Salvage Society--Oceanic Panic/Undead Calm (Bottomless Coffee/Water Wraith Set Free); (Old Salvor Bloke and Her Butterdie Stroke); (Water Demons, Dead Man's Float)
-Your host: That's Falsetto, No Mr. accent on the to and co-host: Dr. Red Devil with a REH REH REH
Until next time, Match Scratchers!
Remember, only you can prevent forest fires, call out Campfire Scarytale imposters and disloyal match scratcher liars!
(Procrastinated Statement) *Intro/outro song, Surrender, courtesy of the artist, Asher Fulero, with a medley of sound effects added for, you guessed it, effect.