Sunday, May 17, 2009

Through the Mist

Being the only normal one in a household filled with creepers and the wickedly strange I spend my life in constant fear. I am Misty, house dog of the K-Ylenfeets.If there was a way to kill myself it would have been done by now. I have tried to escape countless times, but the defense system installed by Mr. K-Ylenfeet is impenetrable. I am in dire need of the memory eraser from Men in Black because of the things I have witnessed in Fort K-Ylenfeet. I wake to Mr. K-Ylen waking up at 5 a.m. for his marathon jog around the neighborhood. I see him out the window he often runs backwards and waves at cars going by creeping them out. He also is wearing a headband and high white socks. It's fucking irritating nobody wants to see this in the morning and it's not something I want to wake up to. Mr. wakes me every morning with the same phrase: "it's time". It scares the shit out of me. I go into the study only to find all the family portraits looking at me, one has them dressed in German outfits? Oh my God. The clock ticks through the morning and the Kool-Aid is made by Sir K-Ylenfeet the Great bright and early to better the taste for later. They love Kool-Aid in the household and rate how well each family member makes it. Is there some sort of prize? I'm not sure.. Sir showers and applies his steak marinade as a cologne. Within the hour, Sir brings one of his fat hoes over to watch a movie and be excessively creepy. He takes her to the basement. Throwing in a movie where there is nudity so he can yell out like he hasn't seen boobs before is a common interest of Sir K-Ylen: "UUHHHIIIGGGGHHH". I walk down to the basement and sure enough I see a bunch of fat rolls barreling out in ever direction with Sir yelling out "oh yeah", "that's fuckin' right", "feet", "steak" and "A1 Sauce". It sounds like she's going to break the couch and the sight is disgusting, I flee. Minutes later she walks up the stairs with a red, sweaty face. I throw up for the third time of the day. The Falcon cleans it and I spend television time with Grandma until she passes out watching Soap Operas. The Falcon and Mr. are off to watch a marriage counseling tape done by a pastor. I don't understand how they are so creepy with all this? I walk into the next room only to be disgusted by Sir K-Ylenfeet the Great whacking it to foot porn. I also can't help, but notice the bitch in the video is huge.. in fact she's well over 300 lbs.. God I am scared for life. I guess the fat hoe before didn't satisfy his foot urges? I dart into the bathroom as a means of immediate safety.. wrong, Sir left his industrial sized tube of foot lube out. I scamper to the basement where we find an arts and crafts session taking place. The spoiled one is writing poetry for her loser boyfriend that everyone in the family hates, I think he's gay.. whatever. I hear a noise from behind me. WOOF! Mr. from out of the shadows in war paint in a ninja costume, he has me. Terrified I try to scramble away, but it is no use. Mr. has me and this is his idea of "play", my heart races and finally I pull away from his grasp. When will it end? I hear a bunch of laughs.. God I hate them. I thought the worst had passed.. wrong, the Falcon and Mr. are getting the grill ready.. my biggest fear possibly of all, steak night. I don't want to know what goes into the secret family marinade I hate seeing them feast. It is a sickening sight there is a cult like chant that leads them to the table "Sttt-eak, sttt-eak, sttt-eak, sttt-eak, sttt-eak, sttt-eak..." it grows louder each chant becoming harder to understand due to the amount of drool accumulating. Mr. brings out the steak and sets it on the table in a platinum dish while Sir follows him with the A1 sauce hoisted high in the air. The spoiled one brings the pitcher of Kool-Aid and fills the glasses. They sit pray and what happens next is too graphic to describe. I flee in a mad panic. I wait it out in a corner in the basement, but even that place isn't safe. I've been attacked countless times here by Mr. K-Ylen, I've walked in on Sir K-Ylen mid plow on some sloppy fat hoes and I'm surrounded by family pictures down here staring at me. I'm waiting for them to come alive and kill me. I hear noises in the fort that startle me, I never sleep. I'm hoping the spoiled one doesn't come down with her boyfriend and watch Legally Blonde or something stupid... Alas she walks down with him while I hear the Sir arguing over who's steak was better, please fucking let it go. Nightfall will be coming soon.. fuck. Nothing is more frightening than a night at the fort in pitch black and Mr. holding it down. I've seen him come down for a glass of water in the middle of the night in strange outfits for role play with the Falcon including: Space Ghost, an Umpa Lumpa, Tarzan and Vanilla Ice. Nothing was more scaring than me walking in on Mr. swinging from the top of the ledge in his room down onto his bed onto Mrs. while he was wearing a Jolly Green Giant outfit.I head into Sir's room and find him on Facebook chat creeping on fat girls pictures and talking to multiple plus sized women or girls his friends are talking with.. figures. What's that? Limewire downloads in the corner.. Mom porn? What the fuck? I hear Mr. and the Falcon in their room.. A sound of a trumpet followed by clucking and what sounds to be a Hitler speech blaring? WOOF! Mr. opens the door in a mad furry. He's wearing an SS uniform and yells at me in German. What the fuck? He slams the door. I live in fear. Seconds later Mr. emerges from the room in regular clothes and walks down stairs where he turns on the television. Suddenly out of nowhere a stage and smoke appear as Mr. starts playing guitar hero on expert.This must be part of his training for something. I'm not sure how it helps him, but he feeds off it. Mr. grows stronger from guitar hero. The smoke is too heavy for me to breathe now I have to get out of here. All I hear is "Hot For Teacher" by Van Halen blaring... Fuck. I sprint to the basement and the door slams behind me. [The music stops.. lock] Oh my God. The end times...

-A tribute to Testaverde

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