1,000 Dark Jokes to Make Your Soul Rot

By Chef JRHEvilInc/Joel R. Hunt

//Source.

//Story contains references to animal cruelty, sexual assault, and other abuse.

Apparently, there’s a joke book called ‘1000 Dark Jokes to Make Your Soul Rot’, and I was wondering if anyone here had heard of it, because I seriously want to get my hands on a copy.

I’ve been into dark humour for as long as I can remember. No topic is off-limits. Terrorism. Slavery. Dead babies. Whatever. I don’t care about things being offensive; as long as it’s a good joke, I’m up for it.

So when I heard about ‘1000 Dark Jokes’, I knew I wanted to read it. The problem is, it doesn’t seem to exist anywhere. I’ve searched for hours online, I’ve looked on Amazon and Waterstones, I’ve scoured the local bookshops and libraries (Side note – I discovered that libraries are still a thing!). I even contacted some of the biggest libraries in the country and asked them to search through their stock. Nothing. There wasn’t a scrap of evidence that this book had ever been written.

Except for one forum. Continue reading “1,000 Dark Jokes to Make Your Soul Rot”

Advertisements

Penpal: Chrono Edition

By Chef 1000Vultures/Dathan Auerbach

//This story has been made into a novel, which you can buy here. The chapters were originally posted as separate stories, what follows is the order they occured in. If you would prefer to read them in the order they were posted see the Complete Edition. The chapters will also be uploaded individually in the future, should you wish to wait for that.

Chapter One: Balloons

When I was five years old I went to an elementary school that, from what I’ve come to understand, was really adamant about the importance of learning through activity. It was part of a new program designed to allow children to rise at their own pace, and to facilitate this the school encouraged teachers to come up with really inventive lesson plans. Each teacher was given the latitude to create his or her own themes which would run for the duration of the grade, and all the lessons in math, reading, etc., would be designed in the spirit of the theme. These themes were called “Groups”. There was a “Space” group, a “Sea” group, an “Earth” group, and the group I was in, “Community”.

In Kindergarten in this country, you don’t learn much except how to tie your shoes and how to share, so most of it isn’t very memorable. I only remember two things very clearly: I was the best at writing my name the right way, and the Balloon Project, which was really the hallmark of the Community group, since it was a pretty clever way to show how a community functioned at a really basic level.

You’ve probably heard of this activity. On one Friday (I remember it being Friday because I was excited about the project and it being the end of the week) toward the beginning of the year, we walked into the classroom in the morning and saw that there was a fully-inflated balloon tied off with string taped to each of our desks. Sitting on each of our desks was a marker, a pen, a piece of paper, and an envelope. The project was to write a note on the paper, put it in the envelope, and attach it to the balloon which we could draw a picture on if we wanted. Most of the kids started fighting over the balloons because they wanted different colors, but I started on my note which I had thought a lot about. Continue reading “Penpal: Chrono Edition”

Penpal: Complete Edition

By Chef 1000Vultures/Dathan Auerbach

//This story has been made into a novel, which you can buy here. The chapters were originally posted as separate stories, what follows is the order they were posted in. If you would prefer to read them in the order the events happened, see the Chrono Edition

Chapter One: Footsteps

In a quiet room, if you press your ear against a pillow, you can hear your heartbeat. As a kid, the muffled, rhythmic beats sounded like soft footsteps on a carpeted floor, so as a kid, almost every night — just as I was about to drift off to sleep — I would hear these footsteps and I would be ripped back to consciousness, terrified.

For my entire childhood I lived with my mother in a fairly nice neighborhood that was in a transitional phase — people of lower economic means were gradually moving in, and my mother and I were two of these people. We lived in the kind of house you see being transported in two pieces on the interstate, but my mom took good care of it. There were a lot of woods surrounding the neighborhood that I would play in and explore during the day, but at night—as things often do to a kid—they took on a more sinister feeling. This, coupled with the fact that, due to the nature of our house, there was a fairly large crawl space underneath, filled my mind with imaginary monsters and inescapable scenarios which would consume my thoughts when I was awoken by the footsteps.

I told my mom about the footsteps and she said that I was just imagining things; I persisted enough that she blasted my ears with water from a turkey baster once just to placate me, since I thought that would help. Of course it didn’t. Despite all the creepiness and footsteps, the only weird thing that ever happened was that, every now and then, I would wake up on the bottom bunk despite having gone to sleep on the top, but this wasn’t really weird since I’d sometimes get up to piss or get something to drink and could remember just going back to sleep on the bottom bunk (I’m an only child so it didn’t matter). This would happen once or twice a week, but waking up on the bottom bunk wasn’t too terrifying. But one night I didn’t wake up on the bottom bunk. Continue reading “Penpal: Complete Edition”