Message-ID: <34830E13.727B@greenheart.com> Date: Mon, 01 Dec 1997 11:20:51 -0800 From: actual3@greenheart.com Reply-To: actual3@greenheart.com Organization: greenheart.com X-Mailer: Mozilla 2.02 (Macintosh; I; PPC) MIME-Version: 1.0 Newsgroups: talk.bizarre Subject: Official FAQ: talk.bizarre (Monthly Posting) Lines: 35 "Monster Boogers" © Copyright 1997 R.L. Stine Mick stared at the mysterious fluid seeping through the floor- boards of the old movie theater. "Gross!" he said. "That looks like some kind of snot!" Flickering light from the projector reflected off Charlie the Brain's round glasses. He stooped and whipped a popsicle stick from his pocket. Squirrel and Heather looked over his shoulder. "Hmmm..." Charlie said, as he probed the fluid with the stick. "Without my portable chemistry set, I can't give you a detailed chemical breakdown, but..." "Just tell us what it is, Brain," Heather said, anxiously. "We don't need a complete spectrographic analysis." Squirrel coughed, which shook the pom-pon of bushy red hair on the top of his head. They turned to him. His eyes were wide as quarters. His voice rustled like blowing leaves. "From what I understand, this is the exact spot where they found old Mr. Kingsley, the projectionist. The cops figured he must have been cleaning the glass in front of the projector when he fell. When he hit, he broke his neck in nine places. Twitch- ing in his death throes, he vomited. Chunks of half-digested pastrami sandwich collided with the shattered bones in his throat. A few made it past his teeth. Because he was playing "The Bridges of Madison County" he wasn't found for a week. By then many of the soft tissues in his body had liquified. Houseflies had laid their eggs in his eyes and mouth, which were covered with dried vomit and bone. Small white maggots crawled hungrily though the decaying flesh. A sickening sweet smell filled the air. That was two years ago this very night." Mick, Brain and Heather looked at Squirrel for a long, silent moment. "You are so gay," said Heather.