The Last Lonely Lounge Comic: Horror In The Modern World
Read it on this post or in The Last Lonely Lounge Comic section of this site.
Picture a run down lounge with wall to wall pink carpeting. An imitation silk curtain hung above a fake mahogany floored stage and you've got the Last Lonely Lounge. Empty two seat tables line the theatre, where in the back there might be a single couple in the audience, though they're not listening.
After all the Comic is the background to their life, not his. However, this section of the blog is a unique escape. For it is the home of the Last Lonely Comic. This is all about his vocation which is humour or what may appear to be.
In a leisure suit that went out of style in the eighties, he approaches and speaks into the microphone:
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| Christopher Lee and Peter Cushing (left and right) |
Especially the ones with Christopher Lee and Peter Cushing.
When the studios hired them, I'm guessing they were a package deal.
Two for one.
Hire one, get one free.
Maybe they took turns being the freebie.
They did a lot of horror films together.
Especially horror and suspense flicks.
Many of them dealing with the strange. The paranormal. Monsters. The undead.
You'd always find them in those kind of films.
I'm surprised that when they'd show up at that point in the story, that the other characters didn't throw their hands over their mouth and say:
"oh sh#t! It's those guys. Things must be really messed up if they're here."
"I only called Scotland Yard about my Cat being stuck in a tree and these guys show up?"
He'd look over to his Cat up in the tree and say: "Cat, I'm outta here. I'm leaving town. I'd highly advise you to get down from that tree and follow me, because something messed up is definitely going to happen if these guys are here."
The Cat looks and sees them, and immediately jumps down and helps him pack.
As they're packing, the Cat looks over and asks him: "I can make us a couple of sandwiches for the trip if you'd like?"
He replies: "No thanks. We don't have enough time. If they're here, things are going to get really mucked up in about ten minutes. I'll stop at a drive thru."
In those movies, sometimes, they'd work together. Like Sherlock Holmes and Doctor Watson.
They'd be on the same team, trying to investigate the weird stuff.
Really weird stuff.
Like some guy walking around without his head, borrowing other people's heads.
Or an eccentric British archaeologist and his beautiful daughter.
They always had a beautiful daughter, didn't they.
They'd be delivering a bizarre man shaped box to London on a train, where people are mysteriously dying, their eyes ripped out.
Sometimes they'd be on the opposite team.
Peter Cushing would be Van Helsing, and Christopher Lee would be Count Dracula.
As brilliant and cunning as Peter Cushing probably was, his character never seemed to clue into the fact that it was the tall guy with the pointy fangs and the cape.
I mean he'd get there, and there'd already be two or three people dead with two mysterious puncture holes in their neck. Nearby there'd be this guy, six foot two wearing a long cape with razor sharp canines.
They'd played that spiel many times together.
Probably twenty films.
Yet not in one of them did Peter Cushing arrive on the scene and just out of nowhere, point a finger at Christopher Lee: "Twenty shillings says its him."
The victim's father turns and replies: "make it thirty and you've got a bet."
By the end of the movie the pool is up to fifteen million British pounds. Four possible suspects.
Christopher Lee, the vampire wins most of it, with a few carefully placed bets.
That'd be like insider trading.
So when I was younger, I used to watch those flicks a lot.
As I got older, I began to think that there's nothing like that in the real world.
There's no monsters that show up at night, or the day for that matter.
There's no undead that pop up out of nowhere and attack you while you're in the middle of a conversation with the counter help at a donut store.
One day I'm sitting at home and I get a knock at my door. I checked the peep hole and saw some decently dressed guys in suits. One of them wearing a long black cape.
So I opened the door and asked them: " Can I help you?"
"Sir, we're wondering if we could have a moment of your time?" one of them asked me.
"Sure, why not. What's up?" I ask.
"Have you ever considered life after death?" he asked me, handing me a pamphlet with the words Watchtower Society clearly etched across it.
Foolishly and only proving my naivety, I replied: "no".
In retrospect, we all have twenty twenty hindsight.
I should have just closed the door at that point.
Maybe answered: "I'm blind in both eyes and ears. My nose too."
I didn't though.
About ten minutes later I realized that I was all wrong about there being no monsters in the world.
Yes. There. Is.
And I was clearly within an inch of the gaping jaws of one of the most dangerous of all.
From that moment on, I struggled to warn others.
Believing I was doing the right thing.
Saving lives.
Protecting the innocent.
One day I was channel surfing and I came across one of those old movies again. The ones with Peter Cushing and Christopher Lee.
I noticed how they always tried to warn others about the danger and nobody would listen.
Peter Cushing would say: "There's an ancient vampire that will kill you all while you sleep! Heed my warning!"
In another one he'd say: "...the deadly Mummy of Khufu has escaped from the London Museum and is on a murderous rampage. If you see the sign of the Scarab, run for your lives!"
None of them would heed the warning of course.
All of them would die except for one, and he'd be the one that helped Peter Cushing kill the Vampire or Mummy, dying himself shortly before doing so.
Then I realized that I was just like Peter Cushing in one of those movies.
I'd warn people about the danger and nobody would believe me.
The following week they'd all be doing the same thing, having been "converted".
Going door to door. Asking about the after life and handing out pamphlets with the supposed answers.
It was like a plague.
So I studied his movies and developed techniques for protecting myself.
The next time I heard a knock at the door, I was prepared.
I checked the peep hole, and saw that it was them again. They were back for more.
I unlatched the locks, all six of them and slowly opened the door.
"Did you read the pamphlet I gave you? I'd like to talk a bit more with you about the after life. I bet you considered the questions I had for you, didn't you?" the one with the cape asked me.
I kept my gaze away from his eyes. If you look them in the eyes, you're done.
He must have noticed because he immediately tried to thrust another pamphlet into my hands.
But I was prepared.
Carefully, I reached for my necklace and pulled my Voter Registration Card Talisman from my neck, dangling from a golden chain.
I held it up to his face.
He hissed and shrieked, while the others backed away.
Then my eyes met his, and his power gripped me. I struggled with all of my willpower to resist the urge to burn my blood donor's card and to go out and buy a tacky corduroy suit and join them.
I struggled against him and ran back inside my apartment to my last line of defense.
He followed me, holding the door open as I ran.
He slowly approached and when I turned around.
I unleashed my secret weapon upon him.
"Have some birthday cake!" I said, thrusting it towards him, all the candles lit.
I didn't tell him that it wasn't my birthday. I mean that would be like holding a cross up to a vampire and then telling them you're a Buddhist.
He'd be like: "Whew! That was close. Ok, so where were we? Oh yeah, I was about to bite your neck and then rip your head off..."
So anyway, this guy, he screamed and writhed backing up and out of my apartment as I held up the birthday cake, the candles dancing in the wind.
Then I quickly slammed the door shut and locked it.
I never heard from them again.
Little did I know that they'd already "converted" everyone in the community.
Before, my life before was like a Dracula movie, where I'd run into one, maybe two monsters every few months.
Now its like a George A. Romero movie. Like Night Of The Living Dead or Dawn Of The Dead where I run into hundreds of monsters every single day.
In Dawn Of The Dead, even the authorities get overwhelmed very quickly.
Kind of like real life nowadays.
You go outside and quickly become overwhelmed.
Ironically, most of the zombies and the kind of people that think that other people are possessed.
A lot of them seem to think that other people don't have a real mind.
That we're all just a mixed bag of everything we've heard, read or watched on television, the big screen or the internet.
That we have no real mind beyond all that stuff, which of course says a lot about zombies.
I mean the first thing they do when they see someone they think doesn't have a real mind is try to eat their brains.
Zombies are obviously the genius savants of the monster world.
Hello (tapping on his head).
Is anyone in there?
Your favourite food is brains, yet the people you try to eat are people you seem to believe don't have their own mind.
Just brilliant.
I don't know about you, but to me, that just makes them even more scary, because not only are they cannibals.
They seem to thrive off the idea that eating the brains of people that they believe have no mind will somehow make them smarter.
That's so completely and utterly moronic that its terrifying.
Before I felt that way, I'd see a zombie and be like: "Oh no. Its a zombie. I'd better walk away quickly. In a minute or two. Maybe three."
After I realized how completely and futilely imbecilic they are, when I see them - I run.
I don't just mean I run. I mean, I run like there's no consequences upon my body for running.
At 52 years of age, that's a pretty bold statement because running like that from a zombie is probably more deadly than the zombie itself.
But it thinks that I'm possessed and that I have no mind of my own and that by eating my brains that it will make them smarter.
See how terrifying they are!
I am in absolute terror of the day I actually comprehend and understand that reasoning.
Don't let them catch up.
I'm guessing that from the point of view of the zombies, the survivors are the monsters.
I suppose if we saw it more from the zombie's side of things, in areas they've already cannibalized, they've probably resumed society.
They wake up every day.
Go to work.
Take a cannibal break at 10:30 AM and another at 12:00 PM.
They run all of their own television networks and media outlets.
Oppress and devour survivor outbreaks.
The survivors try to get the information out there that humanity is being wiped out and replaced by these cannibals.
From the zombie point of view its the opposite.
That's why you never see any news presented by the zombies relating to the cruel treatment of the survivors.
Of their being cannibalized and all, but everything the survivors have to say is twisted into anti-zombie hate speech with no account of the crimes against the survivors that spurred the outcry in the first place.
Even in zombie courts, the whole thing would be very one sided:
A representative from a small band of survivors takes the stand for their testimony.
Their lawyer speaks: "Would you mind describing for the court, what happened. Why you're in here today?"
The survivor on the stand replies: "Well it all started while I was on my way to the corner store. I was walking down the street and a bunch of zombies started chasing me."
Their lawyer continues: "And what did you do then?"
The survivor continues: "...well I started running of course. I made it to the store where a bunch of other people had holed up and barricaded the door against zombies. They quickly unbarricaded the doors and opened them to let me in..."
The zombie lawyer blurts out: "Objection! Your honour, the corner store they're describing is for all citizens. Survivors and zombies alike. They were clearly in the wrong by denying those zombies entry..."
The Justice: "sustained"
The survivor lawyer speaks again: "please continue with your story avoiding any references to the corner store itself..."
the survivor continues: "I managed to get half my body in the door. The other survivors tried to drag me through the door, but the zombies already had a hold of my legs. They began eating my feet and legs..."
The zombie lawyer blurts: "Objection! The defense is now vilifying the zombies before the court simply for eating. Exercising their right to nourishment. Am I to have the court believe that we'll be putting zombies on trial for having a snack?"
The survivor continues: "As you can see, they got my right foot and part of my leg up to the knee."
The zombie lawyer blurts: "Objection! Do we have any proof that he had his right leg and foot before stepping into that corner store?"
The zombies would turn your fight for survival and your rights around to make you the monster and them the victims.
A survivor simply screaming: "Help! I'm being eaten alive!Arrrrgh!" would hit the zombie news headlines as:
"Radical Survivor Defies Cannibal Rights Of Law Abiding Zombies With Hate Speech Against Zombie Population"
Then you'd have the survivor groups that fight for zombie rights.
"Zombies have rights too! Save the Zombie. Hey, stop nibbling my finger. Hey.... wait! No! They're eating me! Arrrrrrrgh..." they'd scream as they're devoured by an army of zombies.
Some survivors would negotiate for peace on those grounds.
A survivor might reason: "Alright. We understand that you have your dietary needs, but we need our parts too in order to survive. We'll compromise."
The survivor negotiator would continue: "You can only eat one part a day. So that means a toe. A finger. An ear etc, and no eating more than you need in order to survive, from any one survivor!"
Clearly on a roll they'd continue: "There's no need for zombie gluttony. Zombie Jesus even said so. Did you know that John the Baptist's severed head lasted Zombie Jesus twelve days and that he never complained once during that time about not having enough to eat?"
So to deal with the zombie threat in real life, I've upped my arsenal to include a calendar with every secular holiday throughout the year clearly printed on it.
That and I wear a pin that says: "Hug me (from a distance), I'm Atheist!"
I've also added pictures of the Buddha, Charles Darwin, Lao Tzu and Vladimir Putin to my wallet.
For instance, the other day, I got ticketed for parking in a no parking zone.
When the Officer asked me for my identification, I showed him the picture of Lao Tzu.
He then asked me if I knew that there was no parking in this spot.
I replied: "There must be. I mean, the myriad of spots were clearly parked here long before I arrived".
...
To my loyal readers, the ASMR community, writers, artists, Delphi and other coders and gamers, YouTubers, Scientists, philosophers, food bank volunteers, front line workers and medical staff, have a great month and a very Safe, Happy Halloween!
Secular Atheist leaning towards Buddhism and Taoism and not one to take part in colour symbolism battles.
Fully support and always have supported LGBTQ2 rights and marriage despite being heterosexual.
