Miss Smedley screamed and fainted. When she came to, she left the class and refused to return to teach until a priest was hired to exorcise the classroom.

For written across Kenny’s blood-red rose was a message, writ in a substance that could only be blood.

It read, ‘‘Nota bad likeness. Signed, your dark deity, Satan.’’

It was dark in Chris’s basement bedroom. Chris was snoring loudly and dreaming of something unprintable. It was plain that he was enjoying the dream, fora funny grin was plastered across his face.

So he was understandably annoyed when a scratching noise woke him up.

It was three A.M. by the clock on the nightstand, and turning on the light caused Chris to blink a lot. He was about to go back to sleep when the scratching noise came again. :

It was coming from the window.

Chris peered out into the darkness beyond the window. Nothing was there. Z

Suddenly it came, leaping out of the darkness and into the small patch of light streaming from Chris’s window. It was a large rabbit, jet-black in colour. Chris looked at it in wonder, admir- ing its glossy coat.

Without warning, the rabbit charged, knocking the weak hinges ofthe window loose. Chris was unable to take his eyes from the horrific bunny. Most rabbits have pink or brown eyes, but this bunny’s eyes were as black and dead as coal. They fixed on Chris like he was the last piece cf lettuce in town.

It opened its movth. Its teeth were brown and rotted, and its breath like the stench of a dead rat. Drooling, it hissed four

words.

“*Giivve meee the pictuurre...’’

Terrified vy the sight of the lapin from hell, Chris pulled the =

picture from his pocket and held it out. Faster than the eye could

see, the rabbit snatched the paper in its teeth and vanished. It’

left no tracks, no spoor, no sign that this late night confrontation had happened. ;

Nothing but a small burnt dent in the wooden frame of the window where its saliva had dripped.

So Satan taught Kenny and Chris a lesson after all. He taught them that he was a force not suitable for mockery, trivia, or casual discussion.

And Chris and Kenny learned it so well that they went on to make a fortune writing cheap horror movies. _

THEEND.

Dave Stieb

by Chris

A strong Stieb slider

Scowling, daring the hitter

to catch up with his good stuff Talking to himself on the mound

Ifa glare could kill for god’s sake if you’re a teammate of Stieb don’t make an error

Hating it when the batter Steps out off the plate Stieb wants to control

the pace, dare you not ruin his rhythm

Known for near no hitters Known for tantrums Known for his 7 all star games

Thru the eighties winning more games than anyone but Jack Morris :

the World Series cries

For the 1 -2 punch

of Stieb and Morris

It is not to be

and is a crime before us.