Meet William shits (part vii)

“The arctic fox spends its days burrowing underground and avoiding contact with its own kind,” Mr. Shitz explained while staring down the sights of his shotgun. “It’s a solitary animal, much like myself. When it dies, it dies alone.”

Mr. Shitz pulled the trigger, unleashing the sound of hell. A helpless fox, only a few yards ahead, exploded into a million pieces, leaving only fur and guts strewn about.

After witnessing the appalling sight, Allen Funt started heaving at the foot of a tree. With a slight smile on his face, Mr. Shitz reloaded the shotgun. “Mr. Funt,” he said, “I do believe it’s your turn.”

“No thank you, sir,” Mr. Funt replied as tears streamed down his face, “I just don’t have it in me!”

“Goddamnit Allen!” Shitz yelled, “I will be dead in less than a year and you will be the CEO of a billion dollar company! Now if you want PTO, a livable wage, and health insurance, you will senselessly kill the last surviving member of this species into extinction!”

“I can’t!”

Shitz cocked the shotgun and directed towards Funt. “You will!” he declared.

“Oh god I’m gonna die!!!”

“Gentlemen,” I interrupted, “what’s the meaning of this? Mr. Shitz, please lower your weapon.”

Allen Funt pissed his pants as he had a stare down with Mr. Shitz. He also shit pants. After a few moments, William came to his senses and lowered the shotgun.

“My apologies, gentlemen,” Mr. Shitz said. “Mr. Funt, it was my hope that killing these animals would give you the courage to turn this shotgun on me. It was my dream to be executed by the man who would supplant me as CEO.”

William then looked out onto the field to admire the last surviving arctic fox. It was juxtaposed proudly against the endless horizon. “It’s just you and me!” William yelled to the animal, “we’re the last of our kind!”

He dropped the shotgun by his side then looked over to me. “Mr. Grey,” William said, “you are my protector; my guide across the river Styx. But I’m not ready to punch that ticket.”

Mr. Shitz started stripping off his clothes, down to his underwear. Finally his bare cock was flapping in the wind. It was cold that day.

“Jim Grey,” William continued, “if you want me dead, you’ll have to catch me first.”

Allen Funt and I then watched Mr. Shitz’s flabby asscheeks jiggle as he hopped like a jackrabbit into the tree line.

TO BE CONTINUED…

meet William Shitz (part vi)

“Don’t tell anyone that we fucked,” Darla said as she climbed naked out of bed. “I can’t think of anything more embarrassing than sleeping with the gardener.”

“I understand,” I replied.

“By the way,” she asked as she strapped on her brassiere, “how do you know my father has ass cancer?”

I began to stutter. “I, uh…it’s a long story.”

“Oh shit,” Darla said, “you’re not one of his long lost children are you?”

“Umm…no?”

“Oh thank god,” she exhaled, “I wouldn’t want THAT to happen again!”

“ANYWAYS…,” I replied, “Will you be returning to France anytime soon?”

“God no, I’d rather be the one that has ass cancer.”

“Then why’d you go there in the first place?”

Darla paused dressing for a moment. “I…I was dating Stromae.”

“But he’s Belgian.”

“Look, you’re not INTERPOL! I don’t have to tell you shit!” Darla exploded. She finished dressing and stormed out of the guest house.

I climbed out of bed when Archibald wondered in with breakfast on a tray. I was putting on my underwear.

“Exquisite dong, sir,” he said

“Thank you Archibald.”

“I trust you laid the pipe well last night.”

I tilted my head. “But Archibald, how did you know?”

“Now now,” he said, “Mr. Shitz pays me very well to know goings on within his estate. A flea can’t fart…as the expression goes…without me hearing it. So please, Mr. Grey, please handle Ms. Shitz delicately.”

“But Archie,” I replied, “it was just a one time thing. It…it won’t happen again.”

Archibald was skeptical. “Mr. Grey, what goes on between two adults is none of my business. But, I figured you to be of higher character.”

I nodded as I looked down to the floor.

“Now,” he continued, “when you finish breakfast, Mr. Shitz has requested that you join him on a hunting excursion. A rare breed of arctic fox has been brought to the estate, and Mr. Shitz would like to hunt it into extinction before cancer takes its toll. His associate, Mr. Allen Funt will be joining the party. Please be punctual.”

TO BE CONTINUED…

professional teams I love to laugh at

You won’t find the Dallas Cowboys on this list. Sorry to disappoint. We all know they’re perpetually mediocre so why bother wasting words?

Chicago Cubs

I’ll admit, I don’t particularly like baseball. But weren’t the Cubs, like, losers for over 100 years? Then 2016 happened and suddenly everyone’s a fan?

Miss me with that shit.

God bless Steve Bartman. I hope it’s another 100 years before they win another World Series.

The Entire Premier League

You know what sucks?

Arsenal, Manchester City, Tottenham Hotspurs, Brighton, Manchester United, Chelsea, Liverpool, Brentford, Leeds United, Fulham, Newcastle, Southampton, Bournemouth, Wolverhampton, Crystal Palace, Everton, Aston Villa, West Ham, Nottingham Forest, and Leicester City.

Fuck all of em…in that order. American sports fans catch a lot of shit, and rightfully so. But the British are on a whole other level.

Y’all need help.

But REAL football fans watch the Scottish Professional Football League.

Green Bay Packers

The gold standard for bandwagon teams are the Dallas Cowboys. But I think it’s high time for the Green Bay Packers to claim that title.

3/4ths of that fan base can’t tell you where Green Bay is. Half the fans probably don’t know that the team is in Wisconsin. And a quarter of the fans can’t tell you who the quarterback was before Aaron Rodgers.

And speaking of Brett Favre, yeah I laugh at the guy every single day, but if you’re a Packer fan and you’re STILL upset that Favre briefly played for the Minnesota Vikings…fuck off.

The NFL is a PROFESSIONAL league and what Favre did was make a business decision. So be thankful for what you got out of him.

Besides, yeah your team chokes in the playoffs every year but at least you’re not the…

Houston Texans

The Detroit Lions and Cleveland Browns at least have history. The Los Angeles Chargers have dope-ass uniforms. And the Jacksonville Jaguars are too inoffensive to make fun of.

Most snake-bitten franchises at least have something going for them.

Then there’s the Houston Texans, a team that’s so perpetually incompetent that they now just let a chaplain run the front office. I guess they figure that God save that dump of a franchise.

*****

When you’re looking for something to read, you don’t want Houston Texans of the literature world. You want the Pittsburgh Steelers: a well-ran organization that always puts out a quality product.

And of the literature world, that organization is Dead Star Press.

So save 5% off your next purchase at Dead Star Press when you use my promo code ‘BM5’ at checkout. Not only can you find the latest dystopian nightmare and other gems of speculative fiction from Joseph D. Newcomer and his stable of talented writers, but you can get some pimpin merch as well:

So if you want to WIN by reading good fiction, look no further than Joseph D. Newcomer and Dead Star Press: the Pittsburgh Steelers of indie publishing.

Dead Star Press: be a fucking weirdo for fuck’s sake!

college teams I love to laugh at

So Meet William Shitz ain’t killing it in the ratings. But you know what? Fuck all y’all. It’s my finest work and if you can’t see that then you’re a stupid asshole.

But you know what does kill it in the ratings?

College football.

So here are the following schools that I love to laugh at because those teams, and their fan bases, suck and I hope their pain lasts forever.

Arkansas Razorbacks

Let’s get one thing straight: the Hogs have been decent under Sam Pittman. But y’all haven’t won a Natty since, what, 1964?

It ain’t happening. It ever gonna happen. Your basketball team will definitely win another title before your football team will.

Fuck the Razorbacks and that landfill known as Donald W. Reynolds Stadium (and the state of Arkansas).

Wisconsin Badgers

Quietly the most overrated team in all of college sports…in both football AND basketball. (I’ll never forgive Frank Kaminsky for flopping his way past the greatest college basketball team in the 2014-15 Kentucky Wildcats and into the national title game). Y’all just got beat by Washington State- AT HOME – but will still somehow manage to stay in the Top 25.

Wisconsin will always be given the benefit of the doubt. And why am I the only one that notices this?

Georgia Bulldogs

Mascot’s cute tho

Everyone hates on Alabama, but that’s just projection. Tide fans know that their team is better than yours so they don’t give a shit about your trash talk. I can at least share a room with these guys.

Georgia fans? Not so much.

Let’s go out and win a few more titles before you start crowning yourselves the new kings of the SEC. Mmmk?

Auburn Tigers

Pick a damn mascot, Auburn!

Honestly, I just feel sorry for you guys. I can’t imagine how the last 15 years have felt. And you guys have been pretty good during that span.

But no matter how well the team performs, the Auburn Tigers will always be the second best in a state that has nothing going for it other than college football.

Michigan State Spartans

The Spartans are the Auburn Tigers of the Big 10 and I can’t think of a bigger insult than that.

Texas A&M Aggies

Pop quiz hot shot! What does the “A&M” stand for?

If you guessed “Assholes & Morons,” you are correct!

I don’t know about A&M fans, but graduates of the institution are the most arrogant I’ve ever met. According to them, you either went to Texas A&M or you didn’t go to college.

So fuck College Station. Fuck Whataburger. And fuck Jimbo Fisher AKA the most overrated coach in college sports.

*****

But you know what’s not overrated? 5% off your next purchase at Dead Star Press when you use my promo code ‘BM5’.

You see, unlike the coaching staff for the Texas A&M Aggies, the authors at Dead Star Press actually have talent. So you wanna win a football game? Don’t bother with Jimbo Fisher’s playbook. Read Joseph D. Newcomer’s “Darkest Day” or Dan Scamell’s “Winston and Raymond” in Dead Star Press’s anthology “From the Dead” instead.

And while you’re there, pick up some sweet ass merch, like this comfortable t-shirt:

So use the code ‘BM5’ and get 5% off when you visit Dead Star Press

Dead Star Press: “Don’t be mediocre like Jimbo Fisher. Be a weirdo!”

Meet Willem shits (part v?)

“Damn it Dad! When you spend six years in a French whorehouse as I have, you can smell shit from a mile away! And YOU, sir, are full of SHIT!” Darla yelled to her father.

“Darla, please,” Mr. Shitz responded, “I’m wearing adult diapers now. I assure you, there’s not an ounce of shit in me.”

“Well you can’t spend your remaining days toiling away in your study!”

William stood up from behind his desk and shoveled ice into a glass. He poured himself a tall drink of Jack Daniel’s whiskey. “Are you sure that’s a good idea in your condition?” Darla asked.

“Goddamnit Darla, can you stop pestering this dying man?!” he snapped.

This was the first time Darla heard her father drop his high-class pretensions. “So there’s a man underneath that mustache and ascot after all,” she said.

“Fuck you,” William replied as he pounded the whiskey. “I have nothing to be ashamed of. I raised you and I built a billion dollar company. Now leave me be.”

Darla laughed and stood up. “I’m home now,” she said, “you’re gonna have to face me eventually. Or else I will haunt you till your dying day.”

She stormed out of the study. Moments later, I walked in to find Mr. Shitz blind drunk. “Damn it, Jim, I can’t handle this right now,” he said to me.

“Yes sir, I understand,” I said. “Mind if I have a drink?”

He nodded.

I took a sip of the stout liquid and wondered how humans could stomach the stuff. “Sir,” I wondered aloud, “can you tell me about your wife?”

William swiveled his chair, back facing me. “What can I tell you about her that you don’t already know?” he asked.

“Well,” I continued, “I know that you loved her. Doesn’t that extend to your offspring as well? Especially since she’s a continuation of you and your wife?”

William swiveled back around. “Are you some kind of fucking moron?” he asked.

“In your ways, yes,” I said as I downed the whiskey.

William laughed. “Darla and me have an understanding,” he said, “care for another drink?”

“Please.”

The conversation trailed off after that. William eventually passed out on his leather-bound sofa in the study. But being new to this intoxicating experience, I ventured out to the garden, carrying the bottle with me.

The pond was the most beautiful spot. As dusk started to settle, katydids and frogs began their nightly symphonies. Across the way, I saw Darla lighting a cigarette.

I turned my head when she looked my way. I focused on the bottle as I pretended not to notice her. Then moments passed and she was out of sight.

The sun finally sunk below the horizon and the moonlight peered through the clouds. I thought I was alone.

“Mind if I have a swig?” a voice from behind me asked.

TO BE CONTINUED…

Meet William shits (part iv)

Who am I, this mortal shell Jim Grey?

Didst I fly too close to the flame? Did I sear off my wings and tumble to this providence of flesh and sin?

“Hear me now o Heaven!” I cried out, “must I die with the blood of my veins?”

But reprieve was delivered from upon high; “be a good servant, but not for thy sake.”

Yet a servant is nothing more than a slave; and I’m a slave by the Grace of heaven.

***

I was no more free than Mr. Shitz was free from impending death. “What happens when I die?” he asked.

“I am no more an expert on death than you are on life.”

“Is that the meaning of your visit Jim Grey? To give me one more shot at life?”

“Perhaps.”

But how could I deliver something that I don’t possess?

Now enough about me….

***

The helicopter landed on the estate lawn. Archibald extended his hand to help Ms. Shitz deboard the craft. “How delightful it is to see you again!” he told her as they strolled across the grass and into the foreroom.

“Tell me, Archie,” Darla said, “how bad is it?”

“Your father is fine right now,” he replied, “but in time, his health will deteriorate. He will lose all control of his faculties. Piss and shit will flow out of him continuously before his bowels fall out of his asshole at the moment of death. I can’t think of a worse way to go. He would be better off ending it now rather than remain cognizant as his dignity melts away.”

“How horrible!” Darla bawled as she buried her head into Archibald’s chest.

“Yes,” he said as he wrapped his arms around her, “but you mustn’t say anything about it when you see him. He’s still processing his ass cancer diagnosis.”

“I understand,” she said while wiping away tears. “He’s always been a stubborn man. This will take time.”

“Of course,” Archibald replied as he offered her a brandy. “How was your stay in France?”

“Absolute dogshit!” Darla exclaimed. “They’re a bunch of chain-smoking, wino bastards! And the world thinks the US is racist?! Try spending 15 minutes at a Parisian bus stop! Jesus fucking Christ!”

I wandered in through the kitchen door bearing a gift. A rose for you,” I offered Ms. Darla Shitz, “I’m Jim Grey. Welcome home.”

Nothing across all heavens, from the seas of Aquila to the moons of Indus, prepared me for the sight I saw; a woman, whose beauty rivaled that of Artemis.

“This is our new gardener, Ms. Shitz,” Archibald said. “He’s an acquaintance of your father.”

“Thank you, Mr. Grey,” Ms. Shitz spoke as she placed her hand into mine, “it’s a pleasure to meet you. Now, please excuse me. I must be meeting with my father.”

“Of course,” I said. I watched her gracefully gather herself as though there wasn’t a storm raging inside of her.

There too was a quiet storm gathering within me. What was it about Darla Shitz that promoted such passion?

Why was heaven hellbent on its temptations?

TO BE CONTINUED…

skinned alive & the reflecting skin

I’m a completionist. I hate to give up on a film because it’s so shitty but that’s what happened while watching Abel Ferrara’s The Driller Killer. So take it from me, that film is only good for two things: reminding you 1.) that it must’ve sucked to have lived in NYC during the late 70s and 2.) first wave punk was GODAWFUL.

Thankfully, Tubi saved the day with two BANGERS, both with ‘skin’ in the title and both released in 1990.

Skinned Alive (1990)

I low-key loved this movie. So much so that I might add it to my Tubi Hall of Fame. It possesses many of the qualities I look for in a film, chiefly having a short runtime.

I almost certainly wasn’t the only one taken with the film. One of the many grotesque deaths bears a strong resemblance to Hitler’s death in Inglourious Basterds because Quentin Tarantino is a senseless hack (so am I, btw).

There’s also a striptease scene that made me absolutely sick to my stomach 👍

But what I find most charming about this movie is how it absolutely shits on the state of Ohio. Now I might’ve spent a grand total of 20 minutes in that state, but goddamnit, there’s something funny about that place.

What’s Skinned Alive about? Some insane family stops in a small town and raises hell. In case you couldn’t guess, this family skins people alive. Only a drunken, pathetic, ex-cop stands in their way.

The Reflecting Skin (1990)

I’m not sure that I would call this a ‘horror’ film, but I can see why many do. If you take the time to think about it, the story is absolutely terrifying and depressing.

An 8-year-old boy growing up somewhere in the midwest post-WWII gets verbally, emotionally, and physically abused while the bigoted police department investigate the deaths of local children. Meanwhile, the boy’s older brother, who’s probably dying from radiation poisoning, (and played by Viggo Mortensen), engages in a relationship with a woman that the boy believes to be a witch.

There’s no gore, few frightening images (worst of which is Viggo Mortensen’s ass cheeks), and no supernatural elements to speak of. So this might not satisfy all tastes. But it does have one thing going for it: NOTHING gets resolved and the movie ends with the boy screaming into the sunset.

I wasn’t quite sure what to make of The Reflecting Skin. I had to turn to IMDB to find answers, and that’s when I found this review, written by an abuse psychologist who found this to be the “most accurate depiction of abuse” he/she/them has ever seen:

I’ve always wondered how well horror and drama would mix. The only well-known example of this would be The Exorcist. But much like We Are The Flesh, answers don’t come easy and what you find might be depressing AF.

*****

But you know what’s NOT depressing?

5% off your next purchase at Dead Star Press when you use my promo code ‘BM5’.

In fact, throw all your anti-depressants in the trash because no drug can compete with the high you will feel when you read a book from Joseph D. Newcomer and the many talented writers from Dead Star Press.

Plus, they got dope-ass merch

So get your head out of the gas stove and head on over to Dead Star Press and save 5% on your next purchase when you use the promo code ‘BM5’!

Dead Star Press: Be a Fucking Weirdo 👍

meet William shits (part iii)

“I don’t know sir,” Allen Funt said while bawling his eyes out. “I’m already stressed out enough. I don’t know if I can handle running this company while you tend to personal matters.”

“Damn it, Allen,” William retorted, “you’re a workhorse! The best one I’ve got! You should consider it an honor that I’ve selected you to run this factory!”

Allen buried his head in his hands. “I haven’t seen my kids in two years, sir,” he said. “Please, Mr. Shitz! Please loosen my load!”

William got up from behind his desk and plopped down next to Allen. “I’ll tell you what,” Mr. Shitz said as he patted him on the knee, “if you do a good job, I’ll give you a 1.5% raise on top of your $24,000 yearly salary. So please, Allen, find the strength to carry on.”

Allen nodded, blew his nose, and wiped away the tears. “Yes sir,” he said. Then got up and returned to work.

William sat back down behind his desk. I entered his office carrying a bouquet of lilies. “Good morning, Mr. Shitz,” I said, “I just cut these and figured you’d enjoy some.”

“Lilies?” William inquired. “Who the hell are you?”

“I’m your new gardener, Jim Grey,” I said, “If you recall, your wife wanted these planted at your estate before she passed. These were her favorite flowers. She wanted you to think of her every time you looked at them.”

William was dumbfounded. “How-how do you know this?”

I found a vase and placed the flowers inside of it. “Mr. Shitz, I know that you’re dying,” I said as I sat the vase on his desk. “Yet you feel that there’s too much to be done. And you’re right. You’ve always been a hard worker. But this might be the hardest thing you’ve had to face.”

“But…how do you know so much about me?”

I sat down in front of his desk. “Do you believe in the afterlife, Mr. Shitz?”

“I’ve- I’ve honestly never considered it.”

“Well I’ll just say that I’ve watched you your entire life,” I said, then smiled. “I guess you could call me your protector.”

“I see,” William replied as a growing look of concern fell over his face. “Then I suppose heaven’s been displeased with my performance.”

“Not entirely,” I said. “But there is an opportunity here to right the wrongs. It’s not too late, Mr. Shitz.”

“If you are who you say you are, Mr. Grey,” William said, “then what do you know about living as a mortal; to face the temptations of flesh and blood?”

“This is not just a chance at redemption for yourself, William,” I replied. “If we work together, we will both be back in heaven’s good graces.”

TO BE CONTINUED…

Meat william Shitz (part II)

“You got ass cancer, Bill,” the big, burly doctor said to Mr. Shitz. “It’s inoperable and you likely have a year to live.”

“My God,” William responded, “how is that possible?”

“Well, since your factory manufactures uranium weapons, a piece of radioactive material probably snuck up your asshole…I won’t ask how that happened…where it metastasized into terminal cancer. So I recommend you get your affairs in order. Now kindly get the fuck out of my office because I’ve got more patients coming in.”

Mr. Shitz returned to the front desk and paid the $450,000 doctor’s bill. “Would you like to schedule your next appointment?” the receptionist asked.

William thought for a moment. “No, I don’t think that will be necessary,” he said.

He wandered back out to the Rolls-Royce where Archibald was waiting on him with the door open. “I trust your appointment went well, sir,” the butler inquired.

“I’m afraid not Archibald,” William replied. “I have cancer of the asshole.”

The news hit Archibald like a ton of bricks. “Is that so, sir?” the butler asked as he tried to maintain his composure. “Can it be removed?”

“I’m afraid not. It appears that I have only a year to live!”

Mr. Shitz’s longtime butler was shattered inside. He had a million things to say but there was not enough time to say it; Archibald wasn’t ready to tear down the façade of professionalism that held his world together.

“Will…,” the butler began to ask as his voice cracked. “Will you be informing Darla of this news?”

“In time, Archibald,” William replied. “Right now, there’s too much to be done. I must get back to work.”

Mr. Shitz and the butler returned to Shitz Estate. William immediately departed to his study while Archibald remained outside on the brick-paved driveway. The butler sat down behind the wheel of the Rolls-Royce and began to cry.

That’s when he noticed me. I was trimming the hedges along the driveway.

“Who are you?” Archibald asked me as he wiped away tears.

“I’m the new gardener, sir,” I responded. “I started yesterday. Is everything alright?”

“Yes yes,” the butler said, “I have terrible allergies this time of year.”

“I see,” I said, “I’m Jim Grey. You must be Archibald Duke, Mr. Schitz’s longtime butler.”

“Yes I am,” he replied.

“I’ve heard a lot about you,” I told him. “Mr. Shitz thinks very highly of you. In fact, I’d say that he regards you as his closest friend. You’re probably the only person, besides me of course, that truly understands him.”

A bewildered look fell over Archibald’s face. “How would you know anything about Mr. Shitz?” he asked.

I smiled. “I’ll just say that he and I have been inseparable for a very, very long time.”

TO BE CONTINUED…