The chainsaw spews oily saliva. And it’s hungry. What are you going to do? Let the jagged teeth eat you alive?
When you’re reading a horror story, or perhaps watching a scary movie, someone will most likely bite the BIG one. It sort of goes without saying—death is the gooey butter that covers the popcorn, without it, well, horror would just be plain ol’ popcorn, and no one likes plain popcorn.
Some people die…
…and some people don’t.
Horny campers learn the hard way: machetes are pretty sharp! Smart campers are too cool for death school, so they deliver a righteous backhand across the face of evil.
Certain individuals might be susceptible to committing violence, but despite genetics or social conditioning, stressful situations flip the killer switch inside us. A fat black bear doesn’t have to think twice, right? You tried to pet the adorable cub, so now you gotta die.
The fat black bear only wanted to eat blueberries…until instinct flipped the switch somewhere inside its brain…well…now the fat black bear ate your face. Yummy.
The feral desire to protect their newborn exists inside every mother.
Chainsaws are messy eaters. Everybody knows that. The bladed maw chews with its mouth open, while the engine whines and cries, as the polluted smoke executes our fragile senses. Some people don’t need anymore motivation to get their ass in gear, and other’s become paralyzed by the cold grasp of fear. Why?
Some people are simply not motivated by hungry chainsaws, but that doesn’t mean a different stimuli wouldn’t motivate them to wield a chainsaw of their own.
Everyone dies in their own special way, and some of us would prefer not to be consumed by a chainsaw. Stubborn people rise above the blood, while shirtless meatheads become the victim of a chainsaw’s bad intentions. Johnny had the skill to shimmy past a line of blockheads on the football field, but he couldn’t tackle the scary dude swinging the chainsaw.
The switch inside Johnny short-circuited, and the rest is
history blood and guts.
Volatile situations transform pretty butterflies into rabid wombats. Beliefs and ideals are two fingers that fiddle the switch inside your puffy brain, and when it’s turned on…even a wuss could sucker punch the Grim Reaper’s crotch. The instinctual motivation to stay alive flips the switch—if a psycho points a dirty butcher knife toward your gullet—you’ll probably think of a way to escape, right?
Of course, you stubborn bastard!
You were just taking a shower…minding your own business…until a rude knife eclipsed the shower curtain. So, you took that bottle of Citrus Dream shampoo, which was on sale for $1.99, and then squeezed soapy chemicals into the pervert’s eyeballs. He slipped, slid and cracked his cranium on the toilet. No big deal if you took a little too long to call the police, right? Paramedics couldn’t revive the knife-wielding intruder, but that’s certainly not your fault. Nope. Not at all.
Lesson learned: don’t point a dirty butcher knife at someone while they’re taking a shower (and don’t get citrus shampoo in your eyeballs).
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