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Reviews for "reaper.doc"

HOLY SH....

I CRAPPED MY PANTS
very nice man
didnt really catch the meaning in the start
10/10
5/5

Sidorio responds:

This morning I stepped out of the shower and this bathroom was fine: white walls, white tiles, sink and counter with toothpaste crusted all over. Three out of the four light bulbs over the mirror were still good - 100 watt, clear bulb, blinding bright in the small white room. Like always I was late, so I skipped shaving. He liked it when I didn't shave, anyway. I was thinking about doing mutton chops. He'd get a kick out of that.

I passed the mirror and noticed I was grinning. I didn't even know I was grinning.

I'm in the bathroom tonight before bed and there's something wrong with the lights. All three are on again but they glow kind of brown and don't really light up the rest of the room. I should get more bulbs from the kitchen. I should, but I'm busy. The date was shit and he shut his apartment door on me.

You'd think that would wipe off the stupid grin from this morning. But I came back in the bathroom and, in the mirror, my face was still doing it. If I touch my face it doesn't feel like a grin, but there it is in the mirror.

In the brown light it's hard to make out but - have you ever actually counted how many teeth show when you smile? I lean in close. One, two, three, four - I didn't know my mouth was so wide - nine, ten, eleven - I can't do mutton chops after all. The corners of my lips are out to my ears. It still doesn't feel like a grin. But I keep counting, for curiosity.

Thirty-six - thirty-seven - thirty-eight...then a skeleton popped out of my mouth.

some people dont get it

your supposed to pretend your there and pretend that you can feel whats happening and that creates the creepy sensation of actually being there got it?
btw great flash.

Sidorio responds:

There was a couple from Texas who was planning a weekend trip across the Mexican border for a shopping spree. At the last minute, their baby-sitter canceled, so they had to bring along their two year old son with them. They had been across the border for an hour when the boy got free and ran around the corner. The mother tried to find him, but he was missing. The mother found a police officer who told her to go to the gate and wait. Not really understanding the instructions, she did as she was told.

About 45 minutes later, a Mexican man approached the border, carrying the boy. The mother ran to him, grateful that he had been found. When the man realized it was the boy's mother, he dropped him and ran. The police were waiting for him. The boy was dead, and in the 45 minutes he was missing, he had been cut open, all of his organs removed, and popped full of skeletons. The man was going to carry him across the border as if he were asleep.

Relax everyone

It's just your skeleton.

Sidorio responds:

As a kid, I loved making flip books. They were all I did in art class, whenever I had it. I worked really hard on one particular flip book. It was around 50 pages long, I guess. It had a simple stick figure walking into the page, waving at me, and then walking off. I would look at it at least a dozen times the day that I made it. Then it got boring. You know how kids are, not entertained by one thing for very long. I tossed it under my bed and never gave it a second thought.

A few months later, I was cleaning up my room and swept the stack of paper out from under my bed. I couldn't quite remember what it was. I flipped through it once and got a sweet taste of nostalgia. I flipped through it once more and noticed the pages hadn't aged or gained dirty at all. I flipped through a third time. The little stick man walked onto the page, waved at me, but didn't walk off.

Instead, a second stick man joined him. It waltzed up, having either an item in its hand or a severely disfigured arm; its not like anyone could tell the difference. The second stick man walked next to the first stick figure, stood there for a moment, then whacked the poor fellow upside the head. The stick figure fell, and the second stick man swung his stick at the other man. Again. And again. And again.

What I assume was its blood ran from the stick figure's rather jagged body. It looked like nothing more than smeared pencil stains. The killer stick man proceeded to bend down, and tear apart the first stick man's body, limb by thin limb. Once he was done, he bent each one into characters and letters. He set them upon the page to form a single word. He grabbed the base of his own round head and tore it off. Then he tore off his legs, and then one of his arms. His zig-zagged body parts formed themselves into a second word. What I read made me burn the flip book.

"A skeleton popped out."

-----

I didn't expect something serious from you, but this is actually pretty good.

Sidorio responds:

A mason, Benjamin Franklin's links to occult secret societies have long been known. In the clip below, the History Channel talks about his involvement in the Hellfire Club, a secret society that conducted black masses and orgies. These bizarre, occult practices are still going on today in secret societies like the Bohemian club. In 1998, workmen restoring Franklin's London home dug up the remains of six children and four adults hidden below the home. The London Times reported on February 11, 1998:

"Initial estimates are that the skeletons are about 200 years old and were buried at the time Franklin was living in the house, which was his home from 1757 to 1762, and from 1764 to 1775. Most of the skeletons show signs of having been dissected, sawed or cut. One skull has been drilled with several holes. Paul Knapman, the Westminster Coroner, said yesterday: "I cannot totally discount the possibility of a crime. There is still a possibility that these skeletons popped in without Franklin's knowledge."

OH GOD!

NOT A FACELESS LAWYER!!! FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU-