The Devil Guest-Blogs on Friday the 13th!
Greetings, you forever icky-poo Mortals, my soon-to-be loyal minions!
Lucifer, Prince of Darkness here, a/k/a the Devil --- and frankly, I don't know why you so-called Heroes are getting so nuttier on television in the same way we Nasty People are. Alright, I admit it: I'm a little bummed out ever since the idiots at ABC got rid of Dirty Sexy Money! Now there was a show that had soooome promise! Now how am I gonna spend my Wednesday nights?
Anyway, dum-dum --- that would be our host, Blackwolf the Dragonmaster --- asked me to guest-blog in this --- thing he calls his Diary of Magecraft so that I could basically sneer at you about Friday the 13th --- the movies, the TV show, the franchise, and now --- the Michael Bay Re-boot, as they're apparently calling it. Y'know, I really really had a thing for Jason: slash, slice, kill, scream, etc. Now, suddenly, a new generation is supposed to care? The whole mess was fine when we had just the ten theatrical movies, but after the syndicated TV show, you had to wonder --- is it all over for this once proud first name in horror-entertainment franchises? If so, what can even I, the Devil, do to merely make sense of it all?
Well, let's understand the following: Once upon a time, people used to be frightened by the number 13. In fact, they created an entire fear around it: Triskadaekaphobia! Even Thirteen/WNET built an early 1970's pledge drive around the fear of the number 13! Weird, huh?
Well, this particular Friday the 13th is the first of three to be inflicted upon you Mortals in this Two Thousand Ninth year of your reckoning, as the dum-dum Dragonmaster refers to them. It's easy to figure out why every time I watched Pinky and the Brain, I winced in horror, knowing that these twits --- mere lab mice, yet! --- were so stupid that ultimately you ended up talking about them as if you were watching a typical Gilligan's Island rerun!
Oh, but who bloomin' cares, anyway? Methinks I've sneered at you long enough, say I. Here I sit upon my custom-upholstered and incredibly comfy Throne O' Doom, one clawy hand firmly wielding my trusty trident, ready to poke the living daylights out of you silly people. I just love to cheer on the Bad Guys. Which, as you might expect, is what makes me feel so eeeeeeeevil!
And, of course, there's only one thing left on my schedule, such as it is, and that's to watch you kneel in horror whilst I laugh my nassssssty laugh!
Bwa ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!!!
Bwa ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!!!
Bwa ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!!!!!
Bwa ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!!!!!!!
(Oh, did that feel so delicious! Nastiness rules, Mortals! Get used to it!)
Yours etc.,
Ol' Nasty Boy
Lucifer, Prince of Darkness here, a/k/a the Devil --- and frankly, I don't know why you so-called Heroes are getting so nuttier on television in the same way we Nasty People are. Alright, I admit it: I'm a little bummed out ever since the idiots at ABC got rid of Dirty Sexy Money! Now there was a show that had soooome promise! Now how am I gonna spend my Wednesday nights?
Anyway, dum-dum --- that would be our host, Blackwolf the Dragonmaster --- asked me to guest-blog in this --- thing he calls his Diary of Magecraft so that I could basically sneer at you about Friday the 13th --- the movies, the TV show, the franchise, and now --- the Michael Bay Re-boot, as they're apparently calling it. Y'know, I really really had a thing for Jason: slash, slice, kill, scream, etc. Now, suddenly, a new generation is supposed to care? The whole mess was fine when we had just the ten theatrical movies, but after the syndicated TV show, you had to wonder --- is it all over for this once proud first name in horror-entertainment franchises? If so, what can even I, the Devil, do to merely make sense of it all?
Well, let's understand the following: Once upon a time, people used to be frightened by the number 13. In fact, they created an entire fear around it: Triskadaekaphobia! Even Thirteen/WNET built an early 1970's pledge drive around the fear of the number 13! Weird, huh?
Well, this particular Friday the 13th is the first of three to be inflicted upon you Mortals in this Two Thousand Ninth year of your reckoning, as the dum-dum Dragonmaster refers to them. It's easy to figure out why every time I watched Pinky and the Brain, I winced in horror, knowing that these twits --- mere lab mice, yet! --- were so stupid that ultimately you ended up talking about them as if you were watching a typical Gilligan's Island rerun!
Oh, but who bloomin' cares, anyway? Methinks I've sneered at you long enough, say I. Here I sit upon my custom-upholstered and incredibly comfy Throne O' Doom, one clawy hand firmly wielding my trusty trident, ready to poke the living daylights out of you silly people. I just love to cheer on the Bad Guys. Which, as you might expect, is what makes me feel so eeeeeeeevil!
And, of course, there's only one thing left on my schedule, such as it is, and that's to watch you kneel in horror whilst I laugh my nassssssty laugh!
Bwa ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!!!
Bwa ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!!!
Bwa ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!!!!!
Bwa ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!!!!!!!
(Oh, did that feel so delicious! Nastiness rules, Mortals! Get used to it!)
Yours etc.,
Ol' Nasty Boy
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