TV Guide Horror

[valis2]

Thomas Kinkade and John Deere. Together, they're inspiration for the heart-warming John Deere Creek Village Collection exclusively from Hawthorne. Each sculpture is meticulously hand-cast and hand-painted to enhance every wondrous detail and bring nostalgic charm to all your Christmases.

Begin with "Deer Creek Bed & Breakfast" and FREE die-cast John Deere Tractor.

These heirloom-quality sculptures are yours for just three easy payments of $19.98, with the first installment due before shipment. Subsequent sculptures--at the same attractive price--will be sent to Charter Subscribers about every other month. You can cancel at any time by simply notifying us. Your second issue will be the illuminated "John Deere Barn" and FREE die-cast John Deere "Tractor Hayride." This classic, hand-crafted Dutch-style barn proudly wears the Johnd Deere trademark that was emblazoned on barns across America in 1885. Strong demand is expected, so please don't wait. Send no money now. Just mail the postage-paid card today!

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Thomas Kinkade. John Deere. Together they have joined forces to bring you a vision of America's Tomorrow.

Yes, we realize that it looks a lot like America's Yesterday. But that's when we were happy, so now we are going to force all Americans to buy tractors and live in barns.

We don't care if you don't like to make snowmen.

We don't care if you don't like hayrides.

We don't care if you get peeved when we throw you, naked and shivering, into the silo, so that you can reconsider your position here in our village.

You will wear sensible shoes. And long, fur-trimmed dresses. We must not glimpse your ankles.

You will rise early each morning to polish the tractor, and you will spend each evening baking pies, and you will retire to bed only after ascertaining that the village is sufficiently saturated with light. Retrieve your children from the toboggan run. You'll know that they're there, because that's the only entertainment they have, unless they're younger, in which case you'll find them making wholesome snowmen.

Your husband will be sent into the Forest to bring back trees. That is his only task. We don't care if he returns, pale-faced and shaking, blood spatter on his clothes, babbling about secret rites; he's just not used to our ways, either. He'll learn the Forest, or the Forest will learn him. You will understand this eventually.

Our sigil will be proudly displayed on your building, and burned into your tender flesh, underneath your clothing, where strangers will never see. It will smart at first, but it will remind you of who you are, and, more importantly, where you are.

The Morgans? They moved away. Yes. They did not go into the Forest. Oh, no, we wouldn't harm a hair on their heads. They left their children because they knew that the little darlings would be safe here. And raised the right way.

You can't sleep? There's too much light? Oh, don't you worry, dearie. Soon enough you'll be comforted by it. Soon enough you'll grow so light, yourself, that it will bleed out of your pores. Soon enough you'll fear the dark.

Comments

[melusinahp.livejournal.com]

LOL!

[valis2.livejournal.com]

*grins* We have pies...

[ellid.livejournal.com]

Warm, home-baked apple pie, made by our meek and downcast wives. They need to occupy their hands when they're not making scrap quilts, submitting to their husbands, or incubating another arrow for the quiverfully of children they produce on a yearly basis.

[valis2.livejournal.com]

Dare we ask what kind of pies?