No Better Time to Promote Sugarplum Zombie Motherf---ers

Had the censor the Title to Avoid the Spam Filters

Yes, I self-published my Xmas stories, stories that will eventually find their way here but since I’m going alphabetically, I’m giving you the opportunity to buy the 99 cent kindle version now. Also available on Audible and Kobo. (Apparently that’s in New Zealand).

But before I post excerpts of the three stories, I must say that if you don’t want to read stories about Serbian Genocide and Zombie Porn, you can help out in different ways. First, my friend is taking care of his sick mother and since I experienced that firsthand, I know it’s exhausting and painful, so help him out if you can. At least he won’t have to worry about money. And if you got money left over after that, please consider throwing $5 or $10 or whatever my way as I spent the last year desperately seeking work and slowly coming to admit that ChatGPT killed my best income stream.

OK. Now to get started on the stories.

First, I self-published because I had one story that I loved. No one else loved it. I tried for years to sell it. I kept doubting it, but then I read it again and loved it more. “The Man in the Red Suit” is a story about the Serbian genocide. Not only did militias murder hundreds of their former friends and neighbors (for the crime of being Muslim) they introduced a bullshit term for leftist nazis to use against Israel. Before HRW and Amnesty International outright used the term genocide, they were saying ethnic cleansing. In Serbia, “ethnic cleansing” was a euphemism for genocide. So whenever the leftist Nazis in the UN and Columbia University accused Israel of ethnic cleansing, they were outright accusing Jews of committing genocide, but when challenged on it, they’d go “oh no ethnic cleansing can mean anything including forcible eviction like what happened when Arabs failed to commit genocide and decided to leave instead.” It’s another bullshit bit of sophistry from the same people who came up with the notion “Arabs are Semites too so we aren’t antisemitic” (ignoring the fact that Hitler declared Palestinianshonorary Aryans on behalf of the mufti of Jerusalem).

So no one wanted to buy my Santa Claus Serbian Genocide Story.

When Tanja was just a devojka, her father spoke of the demon who rode in a flying sleigh – his face bloody red, his breath reeking of sour milk, his beard as white as the killing snow. The man dressed in red to hide the blood - blood from parents breaking their marriage vows, blood from the Mohammedans feasting on Christian babes. The beast in the red suit, his name vile and unspeakable, escorted Tanja through her nightmares black and violent.

Tanja’s father gave over many stories of this devil, yet he always returned to the tale of the first reindeer. On a night of vapors and silk, the man in the red suit was riding on screaming carpets of gold – just like the Saracens of yesteryear – may they devour their bitch mothers in hell - when he spied a grove filled with reindeer. Having slaughtered an orphanage of Serbian angels, the Man in the Red Suit craved distraction.

Available on Kindle and Audible

Next we have “Santa Claus Dies”, a tale in which Santa Claus is forcibly retired by a killer teddy bear (name closely resembling the killer teddy bear story that I lost due to creative differences while editing Teddy Bear Cannibal Massacre).

Mr. Banky appeared innocent in the same way that he looked before Santa gave him to a child. Mr. Banky's fur was mottled brown with bleach stains on his tummy. Santa contemplated giving him to the bad children, but he did not want to see what would happen. He suspected a chain reaction ending where all of the good children ran away from home, started smoking and ended up in foster care.

Again, available on Audible and Kindle.

The last story had nothing to do with Santa Claus or genocide. It’s a heartwarming story about friends who gather every Xmas to watch Zombie porn. One has a Zombie Ranch in East Texas. It’s called “The Xmas Video.” I wrote it for a Creative Writing class and I heard what everyone wants to hear from their Creative Writing teacher: “You obviously have talent but why are you using it to write THIS???”

As soon as John started the tape, everyone could see the improvement. The picture had lost the grainy texture. The crew had placed flood lights throughout the Zombie Pen. Even the sound was clear. The movie opened with a shot of a healthy looking female zombie. She wore a red ribbon around her neck and a green dress over red go-go boots. Her blond hair fell limply to her shoulders and she sported a small but obvious facial scar near her left eye. She removed the dress and her hand moved as if to masturbate but rigor mortis had stiffened her arm and her eyes remained focused at a space beyond the camera. A living woman entered the frame. Her dirty brown hair was falling out in patches. The blond corpse looked at her and gripped her shoulders and the brunette tried to kiss her but the blond bit her neck. The blood painted their faces before armed guards could separate them. The brunette was screaming. A large guard gave her a syringe. She injected, relaxed and died. The blond was struggling from the guards, so much that one accidentally ripped off the blonde's arm. She twisted around to bite the right guard's helmet.

"Braiiiins," said the blond.

"Biiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiitttch," said the brunette.

Available on Kindle and Audible. If you live in Australia, buy it through Booktopia.

Also, if you are in the Xmas spirit, here’s a John Cheever story for your amusement.