The Crawling Abattoir

A Cookie W/Arsenic in It-Jay Bonansinga

D W F

Nightfighter

Bug Mess

The Worst Clown in the World

The Reincarnation of the Dolly Llama

Emptiness, Shaped Like a Man

Kevin Bacon Killed My Girlfriend

Maniac Worm

My Love Is a Dead, Dead Rose

Road Rage

Autoreaper

The Willies

Stuck On You

Martin Mundt is nowhere to be found. He was on his way to his Suzuki-method theremin lesson when he disappeared, ominously on a Thursday the 12th, his personal unlucky day. Two weeks later, stories began to appear: "Maniac Worm" written in the medium of expiring life, thousands of drying earthworms pinned to sheets of cardboard to make squirming vermiform letters; "The Worst Clown in the World" contained in a bucketful of multicolored confetti, a single word written in teeny-tiny letters on each individual piece of confet; "Nightfighter" written in microscopic script on the insides of a pair of red-eyed contact lenses, which were then sutured directly onto the eyes of an eccentric English author, who now performs raving soliloquies of dragons "Kevin Bacon Killled My Girlfriend" tattooed onto the shaved unconscious heads of the contestants in a Pamela Anderson Celebrity Lookalike Pageant. & two stories published in Twilight Tales anthologies.

Each story ended with three horrifying words, three Mephistophelean words written in fake magician's blood (Mundt is, after all, not crazy), three hideous horrific, leprous, nauseating words: MORE TO COME.

Think of those words the next time you walk thru the portals of your house of worship, or as you watch the sunrise some beautiful summer morning & imagine that all is right with the world, & that it really is a very fine thing to be alive. MORE TO COME. Then shudder & think to yourself, "Why can't this Mundt guy just drink beer & watch ESPN like a normal person?" & remember, MORE TO COME.