Shaye Saint John – Strange Dolly

Welcome to Today’s FYB Post featuring SHAYE SAINT JOHN – STRANGE DOLLY by Shaye Saint John. Shaye Saint John is a Fictional Character and Art Project Who Appears in a Series of Surrealist, Creepy Short Films, and is Brain Child of Creator Eric Fournier. In the 90’s, Fournier was a Member of the Punk Bands The Blood Farmers and Skelegore when He began working on the First Miss Shaye St. John Video. In 2003, the Character started a Blog at LiveJournal, and a YouTube Channel Named Elastic Spastic Plastic Fantastic was created in August 2006. The YouTube Channel Uploaded all 56 of the Saint John Videos from 2006-2007, and the Official Shaye Saint John Channel Quit Uploading Content in December of 2007. Unfortunately the Creator of the Shaye Saint James Character Eric Fournier Died sometime back in 2010.

Relevant Note Pertaining to Shaye Saint John:

It had been quite a long fucking Long Time since We had Checked in with Shaye Saint John’s Youtube Channel and when We did Obviously Recently We Noticed Some Strange Shit. What We noticed was 90% of the Videos on the Channel have been Taken Down. As of Now all but 10 Videos (all from 6 years ago) remain Posted on the channel. We found this Rather Odd since one of the First things to Consider is the Content Creator Removed them, But in this Case the Content Creator is Died in 2010 so that’s Not It. So We decided We had to find Out more Information about What the fuck was Going on Since We are Huge fucking Shaye Saint John Fans.

The Bottomline here is SO FUCKING WHAT if the Shaye Saint John Creator Eric Fournier Died? We’re Not trying to be fucking Dicks about it, but Yeah We all end Up Worm Food or Ashes in an Urn so fucking What of It?! We fail to see ANY fucking Point/Reason for Youtube to Take Down Fournier’s Videos or for Youtube to  just Straight Up Delete the Entire fucking Channel! There was a Small fucking Library of Content with a Substantial Viewership, and Again so what if the Content Creator Died?! Why should that be a Reason for Youtube to Shit on and Delete Fournier’s Legacy?!!

Shaye Saint John – Strange Dolly Synopsis: The Video is Filmed like a Throwback to the Old School 1970’s B Horror Movies, Previews, and Advertisements which We just so Happen to have an Affinity for. The Video surrounds a Self Loathing Severely Burned Doll named KiKi that Shaye Saint John has Recently Purchased. Now for One Reason or Another KiKi is either Possessed, Cursed, or just Plain fucking Evil for Evil’s Sake but Who Knows. KiKi’s Blood Thirst will Only be Quenched once She has Slaughtered  EVERYONE while Repeating Her Morbid Motto “I Must Kill. My Name is KiKi. Call Me KiKi.”

IMPORTANT NOTE:

  • ©1999 Empty Socket Productions
  • ©1999 Shytown Productions

It is What it Is,

 Presented By Les Sober

SOCK SIX

Welcome to Today’s FYB Post featuring SOCK 6 by David Firth and is One of His Longer Videos with a Runtime of 16 Minutes 51 Seconds. For those Who are Unaware David Firth is an English Animator, Director, Writer, Musician, Actor, Voice Actor, Video Artist, Broadcaster, and Creator of the Now Legendary SALAD FINGERS. The Word NIGHTMARE is used most often to Describe Firth’s body of Work and Why We are such Diehard Fans of His work. Several of Firth’s works in Flash Animation, along with Multiple Music Videos and Works of Video Art, have garnered a Large (and Ever Growing) Followings Over the Years.

Now Our Favorite David Firth Animation(s) is His SALAD FINGERS Series that is Until We watched SOCK 6 which fucking Instantly became Our new Firth Favorite. SOCK 6 ramps up the fucking Creep Factor taking it to a whole New fucking Level even for Firth and We think that’s P{pretty fucking Awesome. SOCK 6 takes Place in a Stark Post Apocalyptic Wasteland that Remind Us of the Old Stock Footage of Nuclear Bomb Test Sites from the 1950s. In the 1950s the American Military for some Reason would Construct Mock Towns Populated by Mannequins, and then Nuke the Holy Hell out of Them. Why the fuck would They go through All that Trouble Staging a Bomb Site, but Who fucking Knows what the fuck They were Thinking. The Story follows a Scievy  Nameless Main Character (Who looks like Your Garden Variety Meth Addict) Starting in a Grimy Cafe/Diner with a Cook that’s a Mass of fucking Tentacles Named Allen. As far as We’re Concerned Allen is a Interdimensional Entity that’s a Cross Between the Kracken and Cthulhu and Accesses Our Dimension via a Portal that looks like a Food Service Window at a  fucking Medival Times Restaurant.

From the Cafe The Main Character travels with a pair of Ghoulish looking Twins in a Car ride that can Only be Described as Hellish. The Woods are filled with Smoke, People Burning, People Melting Under the Intense Heat, Dying, and Some are Being Tortured. Then Arguably the Most Demented Part of the Video Occurs as the Main Character Engages in Beastiality with a Talking Female Cow. After fucking the Cow the Main Character Forces the Cow to Play a Childish Game with Dire Consequences. That’s when the Police get involved, Arrest, and Imprison the Main Character in in what Looks like a Solitary Confinement Cell in a Stank Basement Dungeon. Then the Main Character asks a Strange Woman Survey Questions about Pissing, Shitting, Suicide, and Sex while She is on the Toilet.

And Well That’s All We have to Say So On to SOCK 6!

Description: This is Sock Six, a story about a man and his special Genetical and bovine adventures.

 

It is What it Is,

 Presented By Less Sober

Saturday Micro Horror Cinema: THE MIME and THE MIME 2!

Welcome to Saturday Micro Horror Cinema DOUBLE FEATURE featuring THE MIME and THE MIME 2 (That came out on this past Thursday December 9th 2021) Written , Directed, and Edited By Alex Magaña. If The Mime Films Feel a Little Familiar there is a Good fucking Reason for that. Magana also Wrote and Directed the SMILING WOMAN Series, and The Mime is the Far More Unsettling Evolution of Magana’s Classic Hero Versus Villain One on One Format. Luckily for Magana it’s a Format He is quite Good at so He has that going for Him.

THE MIME!!

Plot: One Late night at a Lonely Train Station, a Commuter is Stalked by a Sinister Mime…

THE MIME CAST: Ericka Bernabe as the Commuter and Isabella Moore as the Mime.

THE MIME 2!

Plot: On a late night at a Train Station, a Lone Commuter is Terrorized by a Ominous and Supernatural Mime…

THE MIME 2 CAST:
Commuter – Orion Smith
Mime – Isabella Moore

 

Thanks For Watching,

  Presented By Les Sober

The Absolute Insanity In Editing: The Original

I was talking with my Brother god knows how long ago and I was ranting about how my editing is insane. I’ve actually started editing a piece only to have the end result being a completely different piece all together. I told my brother that extreme editing being part of my writing process takes a good bit of time, and I’m aware people have virtually NO ATTENTION SPAN. My Brother suggested to address my concerns about it by posting an example say an original version, and the the final version in a compare and contrast scenario. Like so many of my Brother’s excellent ideas I fully agreed that would be a perfect solution. I then immediately did nothing about it I just put it to the side. In true fashion though I doubled back and FINALLY have decided to do it.

This is the ORIGINAL version which I wrote for a local writing competition for shits and giggles. There were some CONDITIONS to be dealt with. The rules stated while it could be a horror piece it COULD NOT exceed 1,000 words. Thats not all theres more such as no horror cliches. That meant NO Teens in the woods at a cabin or camp for example. Car/mechanical break downs, eerie/scary sounds, the group CAN NOT split up in anyway, AND the killer had to be human were almost all the rest of the limitations. I honestly don’t remember the rest as this was written a while of go.

Personally I think this piece is just that a piece of shit. The 1,000 limitation wasn’t so much the issue as while I respect and understand why  the people throwing the competition banned cliches. the PROBLEM with both of the aforementioned issues cliches are cliches sometimes for a reason. This is one of those times as all those horror cliches are key tools to build suspense and build tension. Without suspense and tension a horror story is at best a shitty thriller (Horror I love, Thrillers are complete shit ,but thats a different story so I digress for now)

I will only post EVERY OTHER Revision as to over burden the readers nor bore them. After I post this I will post the 2 REVISION. I’m current working on the 3 revision currently. Revision 3 will NOT be the Final Version not by a long shot, and I’m not fucking psychic so I have not idea what so ever how many more revisions there will be.

With that said here is the original (in my opinion is childish and utter shit) of:

The Butchers of Backwater

As the pungent odor of the smelling salts filled Joel’s nostril he snapped awake as if he was hit by a lighting bolt. His vision was blurred and he strained his eyes to the point of pain squinting to make out where in fact he was. Joel’s head was pounding like there was a giant metronome was banging away in his head to no end. As his eyes adjusted to the dim candle light of the chandelier and various candelabra’s that sent shadows dancing on the walls with wild abandon.The wall paper was so old it had become yellowed and as brittle as parchment over the countless decades. Large pictures of grimly stoic what Joel assumed where family ancestors framed in dingy gaudy gold frames that lined all four walls of the dinning room. Some of the paintings subjects looked some what deformed but Joel dismissed this to the stone faced portraits of the past where no one dared smile. The black and white old time photographs had faded in various degrees from whitened smudged edges to almost fully faded to the point of being almost black in appearance, and the photos as well as the paintings were emotionless poker faces.There were two medical looking candelabras on the table placed at each end these in combination with the chandelier did little to combat the darkness which encapsulated the room

As Joel’s eyes came slowly into focus he could see he was in a rather large dinning room that was reminiscent of the kind of dinning room one would find in a Old Southern Planation farmhouse. Joel was restrained with thick chains that bound his feet together, secured Joel’s arms to the arms of the old oak chair he was situated in. The chains were also coiled around Joel’s torso like a metallic python. Joel was positioned at one end of the table opposite the designated head of the table. Joel strained against the chains to no avail as it became a reality that he wasn’t going anywhere, and was being held as some sort of hostage. There was a full place setting in front of Joel consisting of a antique china plate that was chipped around its perimeter. There were three forks, two spoons and a knife laid out as well that looked like they were old enough to be genuine silver. The cutlery showed it age as oxidation over years had left its trade mark patina giving the appearance that it was tarnished.
Joel became aware of someone talking behind him in a deep commanding voice, and with the distinct drawl like that of a “Southern Gentlemen” from an era long gone.
“Ah, I see our company has risen from his prolonged slumber. I was beginning to fear that you might never be returning to this world of the living, but look at you now. A true testament to a man’s will and his perseverance over that which is problematic.”
Joel still was still struggling with all his might to come fully back to his senses. Questions swarmed Joel’s battered brain like enraged Hornets adding to his continued confusion. Where the hell was he? Who’s house was this?” “How’d he even get here”,but most of all at this particular moment the primary question was “Who was this man and why did he restrain Joel with an excessive amount of chains?”
“Mr. Joel Fletcher you have the definite look of confusion as to where you are and to that which is going on.” the voice said with a slight tone of mockery.
Joel then heard the distinct sound of centuries old wooden floor sighing with long groans and loud creeping sound of someone walking across it. The foot steps were coming closer and closer from behind Joel. Joel tried to hide his increasing anxiety and fought to keep his voice from wavering.
“Who are you, what in the name of christ is going on here? What do you want?” Joel said as his speech increased in its rate of speed. Damnit Joel thought to himself I can’t show weakness, I must remain calm and focused as possible considering the current circumstances.
“Questions abound don’t they Mr. Fletcher and you shall have all the answers you desire shortly I assure you.” The voice said from directly behind Joel so that Joel could smell the stink of cigarette smoke.
Suddenly a very tall and lean elderly man strode out from behind Joel’s seat and quickly crossed the vast dining room in only a couple of strides stopping at the head of the table. The old man was dressed in a crisp brilliantly white suit complete with a bolo tie. For a split second Joel wonder if he had fallen victim to the demented relatives of Cornel Sanders from the KFC advertisements of his youth. The old man had a full beard that was as white as his suit and long shoulder length hair that for some odd reason was as black as the bottom of an abyss. The old man pulled his chair out and took a seat slowly lowering his long and thin body into the chair. The old man crossed his legs and placed rested his arms on the table on either side of a second place setting. The old man reached into his suit jacket and removed a cigarette case like the ones from the 1920’s. He opened the case, removed a cigarette tapping it lightly and deliberately on the exterior of the case. The old man took a few minutes that seemed like an eternity to Joel to locate his Zippo lighter that had some sort of military insignia on it. The old man lit his cigarette taking in the first couple of drags with gusto before exhaling. A cloud of lingering smoke hovered around his head like a demonic mist.
Once Joel’s eyes met the gentlemen stranger the man began speaking again.
“You must pardon our lack of light for dining. You see with my condition, I’m an albino you see, I’m afraid my disadvantaged eyes are rather sensitive to light, thusly we forgo the harsh light of electricity in favor of the softer less offensive light of candles.” said the Gentlemen stranger as he puffed away on his cigarette like it was going out of style.
“We? We who? I only see you and me sitting here.” asked Joel, his voice now quivering uncontrollably now.
“Well then as you are my humble quest allow me to explain. My family name is Leviticus and we have kept our bloodline pure for centuries even before my family made their way to America. My family was of great wealth and status until the civil war tore us asunder. War is hell Mr. Joel. War is hell indeed.” said Mr. Leviticus in a slow and steady tone before a brief pause. “After the war my family was banished if you will, into the backwaters of the Mississippi were they eked out a meager living hunting Alligators and selling their skins. Then came the unfortunate great depression and the rural people of this land left this place to find greener pastures in bigger towns or perhaps the city. My family being tougher than the gator skins they sold decided to stay put for we would not lose the rest of our family to the industrial world beyond the boarders of the bayou.” Mr. Leviticus said longingly with pride as he stared off into oblivion.
“Now alas my brother and I are all that remains of the once great Leviticus Family lineage.” continued Mr. Leviticus who at this point seemed to be talking to himself as he didn’t acknowledge Joel’s presence as he spoke.
“Now due to the family tradition of keeping the family bloodline clean and pure there were some issues of health with the later generations such as the deformity of both body and mind. My brother being the last offspring born into this family suffers egregiously from these afflictions you see Mr. Fletcher.”
Just then the massive silhouette of a man filled the immense doorway behind the seated Mr. Leviticus.
“Ah Yes dinner is served I do hope you enjoy pork Mr. Fletcher” declared Mr. Leviticus with great pleasure.
“Where is my brother?” Joel asked anxiously as they had been traveling together documenting the impact the oil spill had wreaked upon the Gulf of Mexico and those whose livelihood as fishermen had been destroyed.
“You see Mr. Joel when my brother and I happened upon you and your business partners as well as your aforementioned brother you were all being beaten mercilessly by a group of roving bikers outside a rather unattractive bar in Bella, the text town over from ours. I phoned the police post haste at which point the bikers fled. My brother and I collected y’all, brought you to our family home, mended your wounds and have been caring for y’all ever since.” answered Mr. Leviticus promptly.
Before Joel could get the next question out of his mouth the monstrous silhouette standing in the doorway made its way into the room carrying two dinner plates, one in each hand. The mountain of a man with gnarled and twisted limbs like that of a ancient oak coated in a thick layer of sweat placed a plate in front of Mr. Leviticus delicately. The grotesque giant was where grimy dirt encrusted over alls without a shirt. As Mr. Leviticus’s younger brother made his way over to where Joel was seated the floor boards strained to support the weight of his extremely large frame. The long greasy unkept hair obscured the titans face especially since Mr. Leviticus’s brother tended to walk with his head lowered as if in mourning. Mr. Leviticus’s brother made his way over to Joel where he unceremoniously dropped the plate in front of Joel. The plate crashed down upon the table with a loud clatter which sent some of the meat juice to splatter upon the table.
“ID!” yelled Mr. Leviticus outraged, “You know quite well this is a family heirloom and must be treated with the respect it deserves. Must you be such an uncouth savage brother? Your just lucky that what you lack in the mind you make up for in body. Now leave us and don’t let playing with the food to even enter your minuscule mind.”
Id who had frozen into a statue at the mention of his name cocked his head sideways with his back to his brother Mr. Leviticus as if he was struggling to control his own outrage as the case may be. His gargantuan muscles tightening at ever word that came out of his irritated brother’s mouth. It seemed that Mr. Leviticus’s brother Id was physically affected by his brother’s harsh reprimanding. When Mr. Leviticus was done chastising his younger brother Id promptly bent down and wiped the meat juice off the table with one of his hotdog sized fingers. Id the hastily exited the dining room utilizing the door behind where Joel was seated.
“Please excuse my brother’s lack of manners for he is not as civilized as and your aforementioned brother we and I did warn you his appearance is quite off-putting especially upon the in initial meeting.” said Mr. Leviticus apologetically before continuing “Dig in Mr. Fletcher you need to regain your strength.”
Joel and Mr. Leviticus ate in silence. Joel couldn’t help but notice the pork chops were fresh and succulent unlike any he had had before. The meat was so tender it melted in Joel’s mouth coating his young with the fantastic taste of the meat. The smell of the meat was intoxicating just on its own.
“Pardon me Mr. Leviticus but this pork is divine I’d hate my brother to miss such a grand meal.” Joel said in all honesty.
“Don’t worry Mr. Fletcher your brother is here in spirit and on the plate.” Mr. Leviticus said matter of factly with a slight sneer.
“What the hell are you talking about, what are you saying?” Joel asked in full blown panic his heart pounding as if it was attempting hammer its way through Joel’s ribcage.
“You see Mr. Fletcher when times are tough and food is scarce my family’s motto is “If there is no meat there is always man” and this motto has gotten us through many a lean time in our history. We are you see cannibals of conviction and convenance .” announced Mr. Leviticus with a growing grin of sadistic delight as Joel processed what he had just been told.
“Thats fucking insane, your insane!” screamed Joel at the top of his lungs, “This is bullshit!! Your a liar! Your fucking lying you sick son of a bitch!” Joel fought relentlessly at the chains that confined him to the chair trying desperately to free himself.
“Id can you summon Mr. Fletchers brother to the table please I would appreciate it so.” Mr. Leviticus said in a booming voice that dominated the room.
Joel was terrified, completely confused and disoriented. His pulse was racing like a jack rabbits on meth, sweet was rolling down his face like a mid summer rain shower. His eyes frantically searched the room finding nothing to hope for. Joel was trapped alone with two cannibal brothers one of which claimed that they killed and cooked his brother. Not only that but the mentally crippling thought that he may have in deed dined upon his brothers flesh drove Joel to the point of lunacy.
The slow solid steps echoed down the hallway as Id returned to the dinning room. Joel’s racing mind was flooding his head with horrible scenarios of torture and death. Joel was so wrought with panic it seemed that he could actually feel his hair growing. Finally Id’s imposing body once again filled the doorway behind Joel his shadow looming over him like a storm cloud waiting out the calm before the storm. Id crept up behind Joel stopping directly behind him. As Id lurked behind Joel could hear the labored breath of Id with the steady deep inhalations that ended more or less in a exacerbated sigh coming from directly above his head, but Joel was to terrified to even entertain the idea of looking up into the face of the monstrosity standing over him.
“Where is my brother you demented backwoods inbred hillbilly son of a bitch? Where is HE?!” demanded Joel in frustrated anger struggling so hard the chains that bound him rattled like a wind chimes in a hurricane.
“Id if you’d be so kind” said Mr. Leviticus in a monotone voice indicating his boredom with the matter.
Without warning the immense arm swung around in front of Joel and slammed something on the table before withdrawing itself back to its owner standing behind of Joel. It happened so fast that Joel was initially too startled to comprehend what was happening, and sat transfixed by fear like a deer in the headlights of an eighteen wheeler barreling down upon it. Then Joel saw what Id had deposited upon the table in front of him, his brothers severed head.
“JESUS CHRIST ZANDER!” exclaimed Joel in a fevered pitch as he gazed upon his brothers decapitated head.
“Don’t worry Mr. Fletcher you aren’t long for this world yourself so the time of grievance over eating your brother will be short I assure you” said Mr. Leviticus leering as he bent forward running his tongue over his yellow nicotine stained teeth.
“You see Mr. Fletcher whats on tomorrow night’s dinner menu is you, but until then how would you like some dessert?”