Showing posts with label Halloween. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Halloween. Show all posts

White House Trick-Or-Treaters Get a Fright Night Flight with a Predator Drone

Washington, D.C. –

Gathered in the Rose Garden, which was temporally converted into a makeshift graveyard with styrofoam grave markers craved with the names of the terrorists taken out by the infamous predator drone, President Obama and the first lady hosted their annual Halloween party just for kids.

With the president dressed up as the Angel of Death and the first lady as a fairy godmother, the two greeted a throng of mummies, witches, monsters and skeletons at the door.

During the Halloween party a mummy walked up to the president and asked him, “Where’s your scythe, Mr. Death?”

Obama lifted up his skeleton facemask and crouched down to talk to the boy face-to-face.

“I’m glad you asked me that kid,” said Obama, reaching into his black cloak pulling out a remote control device. “Oh, here it is.”

“That’s your scythe?” questioned the mummy.

“Yeah, in a way,” said Obama as he fully extended the antenna. “But, um, its been updated.”

Soon a crowd of children gathered around the president as he begun to explain what each of the buttons, knobs, dials and toggles could do.

“But you never,” emphasized Obama. “And I mean never, push this red button unless you are absolutely sure your client is in your crosshairs.”

“What’s ‘client’ mean?” asked a witch.

“Yeah, and what are ‘crosshairs’?” asked a monster.

“Say kids, who wants to see a movie?” asked Obama, knowing it would be faster at answering the kids’ questions. All the kids lifted up their hands in the air.

“I’ll be right back, honey,” Obama yelled out to the first lady. “Come on kids. Follow me to the war room.”

As the children emerged from the war room masks removed, a frigid look was fixed on their faces.

“Well, kids,” said Obama as he led them back to the Halloween party. “What do think of my new scythe now?”

“Is one, one up there nnnow?” stuttered a child, as he pointed out to the night sky.

“Yup,” responded Obama, whipping out the remote control box and extending the antenna. “Wanna see?”

“No!” yelled out the kids as they clung to Death’s robe.

“Please Mr. Death,” pleaded another child. “Don’t call in a predator drone strike here.”

“Why not?” asked Obama from behind his skeleton mask.

“Because, we’re Americans?” answered another child.

“That never stopped me before. Why should it now?” replied Death as he began laughing like a mad man, while pushing buttons, turning knobs and flipping toggles seemingly randomly on the remote control box. Sending the children running for cover, screaming.

“I can hardly wait until I get my Rose Garden back,” said the first lady as she shut off the bathroom light in the bedroom suite on the second floor of the White House.

“I don’t know about that,” said Obama as he looked over at his Angel of Death costume he hung over a chair at the side of his bed, predator drone remote control box on top.

“What do you mean?” said the first lady, while getting into bed.

“I like the way it looks now,” replied Obama. “Did you see the looks on those kids’ faces? That look of panic.”

“It looked more like terror to me,” said the first lady.

“All their little faces peeking out from under the punch bowl table,” sighed Obama. “Looking up to the night sky for my predator drone. Let’s do that again for Thanksgiving. What do you say?”

Copyright © 2008-2011 by Robert W. Armijo. All rights reserved.

A Halloween Story: Madoffs’ Even Cheat Death

New York, New York –

A little before midnight, while the Madoffs’ slept in their opulent master bedroom in their New York City high-rise apartment overlooking Central Park (no doubt paid with their ill-gotten gains), Azrael, the angel of death, entered with a gentle gust of wind blown through a window left open.

With harvest scythe extended, Azrael prepared to swing it and collect the Madoffs’ souls.

When he paused a moment, noticing a handwritten jointly signed notarized note addressed to him, which was placed on the bed stand under an empty bottle of prescription medication.

The note read in its entirety:

Dear Angel of Death (A.K.A. Azrael):

If you are reading this note, you are too late. We have opted to take our own lives.

You may have noticed an empty bottle of pills. We’ve taken them all in anticipation of your arrival -- no doubt dispatched by one or more of our many former investors.

Yours truly,

Mr. and Mrs. Madoff

P.S. Gotcha!


With that Azrael looked over to the bed, where he found the Madoffs’ sitting up, high-fiving each other.

That sent Azrael into a rage.

“Now, now, Azrael,” said Mr. Madoff with his hands extended. “Don’t do anything I would do. Unlike me, you’re bound by covenant to follow the rules. Remember?”

Mr. Madoff then pointed to his custom-made Breguet Marie Antoinette watch.

“See?” said Mr. Madoff. “It’s a minute passed midnight. You can’t take our souls now. It’s too late. The witching hour is over.”

Nevertheless, the Angel of Death was so angry, he swung back his scythe and swung away at Mr. Madoff, cutting off a single hair from his head.

Reaching out with his skeleton hand, Azrael caught it in midair. Then carefully placing it in his tattered black pocket, he called it Absalom.

“I’ll be back,” shrieked the Grim Reaper, as he flew out the window from which he entered. Out over Central Park. Disappearing into the darkness of the night.

“Huh,” said Mr. Madoff to himself, as he got up to close the window he purposely left open.

Copyright © 2008-2011 by Robert W. Armijo. All rights reserved.

Photo Courtesy of:
wpclipart.com

Halloween Hospital X-Ray Finds Chupacabra Hiding Inside Pillowcase Instead of Candy


Los Cruxes, New Mexico --

Forget finding a razorblade inside an apple; try a chupacabra hiding inside your pillowcase of Halloween candy instead. Well, that is exactly happen to 13-year-old Little Johnny Myers in a small rural town 100 miles outside of Armijo, New Mexico, as the crow flies.

“Even though we’re living in a town that can’t afford electricity, running water or even a name, I always try to make Little Johnny feel like he’s not missing out on anything,” said Helen Myers, 29, and a single mother, who drives her son in the back of her pickup truck 20 miles to the nearest neighbors so he can ‘Trick-or-Treat’.

It is believed that sometime while Little Johnny was walking back to his mother’s old pickup truck, after getting his candy form the neighbor house, that the chupcabra snuck into his pillowcase to eat all his candy inside.

“I thought Little Johnny just had too much candy inside is all,” said Ms. Myers, as she witnessed her son dressed up as Max from ‘Where the Wild Things Are’ struggle to carry his pillowcase and throw it into the back. “After all, the Gomez family is our only stop and they do try to make it worth the trip.”

However, when Ms. Myers looked into her rearview mirror and saw her son still struggling with his pillowcase -- that by now was now wiggling and rolling in the flatbed -- she knew something was up.

“That’s when I told Little Johnny to hold on, we’re going to he hospital to get that sack of candy x-rayed,” said Ms. Myers.

While waiting in the emergency room lobby, Little Johnny had to run after his pillowcase. Having to tackle it even, to prevent it from escaping.

Later as a doctor, nurse and orderly struggled to pry the pillowcase of candy from Little Johnny’s arms to x-ray it, he put up such a fight they had to take the x-ray with Little Johnny still holding on to his sack of candy.

“Even after we showed Little Johnny the x-ray of the empty pillowcase because the Chupacabra inside ate up all his candy, he wouldn’t let go,” said the attending physician.

With the chupacabra sound asleep in his pillowcase Little Johnny walked out into the parking lot, while his mother took care of the medical bill.

By the time Ms. Myers got outside, Little Johnny had strung up his pillowcase to a nearby tree and was swinging away at it with a stick.

“Stop that Little Johnny!” cried out Ms. Myers. But it was too late.


Soon Little Johnny had all his Halloween candy back in his custody again, even if he had to pick it up off the ground.



Copyright © 2008-9 by Robert W. Armijo

Halloween White House Still Handing Out Eye Candy To Nation

Washington, D.C. --

Standing at the front entrance of the White House with the first lady faithfully at his side handing out Halloween candy, Barack Obama, dressed as himself, was criticized not only by Republicans this time around, but by an ever-growing chorus of Democrats and Independent voices too, as an imposter; merely disguising as the president of change he promised he would be and has yet to fulfill.

Meanwhile, not missing a beat to forward their causes, lobbyists bribed little kids dressed as ghouls, ghosts and goblins waiting in line to see the president, stealing their store bought and homemade costumes and chance to get White House candy away from them.

“You know when I promised the American people transparency, I meant it,” proudly said Barack Obama, as he posed for a photo op dropping candy into overfilled extended pillowcases, while leaving others empty yet to be filled.

“Trick or Treat?’ Mr. President,” said the lobbyists, still disguised as kids dressed as ghouls, ghosts and goblins.


“Oh, kids come on in,” said Obama, inviting the lobbyists inside the White House. “Help yourself to anything you want.”


Copyright © 2008-9 by Robert W. Armijo