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Banana Juice Fanzine Issue 02
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Banana Juice Fanzine
Issue # 1
October, 2002
http://www.shoecandy.com/~bananajuice/
(c) 2002
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Index / Issue # 2 / October 2002
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1.) Introduction
2.) We Need Help
3.) When I Die... -- A look at the ideal death, and ways to use a dead
corpse as a prank. (by CaseyB)
4.) Children Behave (that's what they say when we're together) -- At
heart warming column on growing up. (by Kid Ikarrus)
5.) The Den of Creativity... -- Why can't Casey have a room all to his
own? (by CaseyB)
6.) Fairies -- Read this eerie story of a girl, an evil farry, and
murder! (by B.G.Sims)
7.) the Kinky Horror Film Re-make -- We re-did the names of our favorite
horror films to make--The Kinky Horror Film Re-make! (by CaseyB)
8.) Rock On Ninjas! -- Why do Ninjas have to be so cool? (by Jacki V)
9.) Real Ghosts -- True stories from the Chicago-land area. (by CaseyB)
10.) Attack of the Zombie Moms -- The First installment of 'Attack of
the Zombie Moms!' (by CaseyB)
11.) Local Bands -- Band Links from around the Illinois Region!
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1.) Introduction
by CaseyB
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Greetings freaks and ghouls to the second issue of the Banana Juice
Fanzine. A special Halloween special for all you freakers out there,
but we did seem to fit in a heart warming column by my good friend Kid
Ikarrus.
To all those who knew, I'm sorry, but yeah... this is coming a day late.
Missed it by one god damn day... Okay!! We have more articles by Kid
Ikarrus, JackiV, and myself. Also, a rather freaky story by B.G. Sims.
In making this issue, I wanted to keep a Halloween theme. I think you
will be rather surprised. So, lay back, kick off, and I guess.....
BEWARE!!!!!!!
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2.) We Need Help!!!
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Banana Juice needs your help!
We have a severe lack of funding (being a teenager, and the most worthy
thing I own is a bin of pornos), we need your help to keep this thing
going.
Banana Juice would like to start a cd reviews section for all the
underground local music (Chicago area) that we can get. This cause a
problem with purchasing the cds--We can not afford them! So, I have
come up with two solutions--
1.) If you see me anywhere, you can hand me the album that you would
like to be reviewed. I am at a lot of shoes in the chicago area, so I
have included some pictures (<a
href="here</a>,<a">http://www.shoecandy.com/~bananajuice/i1/mugshot1.jpg">here</a>,<a
href="http://www.shoecandy.com/~bananajuice/i1/mugshot2.jpg"> and
here</a>). I will also try to wear a self made banana juice patch
somewhere on my apparel, so you can recognize me that way.
2.) If I have put a pay pal sign somewhere on this site, idea number
two is already in effect. The idea is that if you like this site, and
want to see it grow, you donate money to us. The first thing I would
buy is a P.O. box so you could send your stuff to us. Plus, the money
will also fund for us to go to shows, equipment, etc.
So, in other words, please help us! We are desperate!
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3.) When I die...
by CaseyB
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When I die.....
Lately I've been infatuated with the idea of death, in a completely non
suicidal way. It must be the Halloween spirit catching up with me.
This recent infatuation has left me thinking of what the ideal death is
for myself. To me, only pussys want to die of old age--I want mine to
be interesting. It is my hope to make my death the most remembered
and/or dramatic that it ruins the mental state of some innocent
by-stander. If I can achieve such feats, I believe that my soul will be
eternally at rest. If not--where the fuck is the fun in dying?
While pondering over the topic of the ideal death, the first thing that
came to mind for myself was decapitation. Did you know that the human
body can survive without the head for up to four minutes? During French
Revolutionary times, after a victim was executed by the guillotine, the
heads were placed and taken away in baskets. This was not some sick
'Hannibal Lecture' picnic, this was done to be more humane. The french
discovered, by looking into the pupils of the victims, that sometimes,
after the head was removed, an image of their body was left in their
pupils. This meant that after death, a persons head was still
functional, and in fact, could see that their body was disconnected from
themselves. I find this to be a great thing. Personally, if I was
dying from some chronic disease, I'd ask to be decapitated. Then, I
would like someone to throw my head from the roof of a really tall
building so I could know what it was like to fall off something. Or,
they could put my head in a big bowl of soup. How cool would that be to
scare someone with your decapitated, fully functional head in their
soup?
After thinking up this totally awesome way of dying, I thought to
myself--what if I die without knowing it? This could ruin the entire
death experience for myself. And, in fact, this could waste a perfectly
useful corpse. If indeed this does happen, I have found it necessary to
add some demands in my will for when I die. I don't want my body going
to waste, I want to put it to good use! I want to pull off some final
pranks after I die!
The easiest prank, and I believe I have mentioned this before, is to
hang the corpse in a Kindergarten room's closet. Then, when those poor
kids innocently go to hang their cute little coats up, they will quickly
be sent to their local therapists.
Another way to have my dead corpse used would be on a local bus or train
ride. When a passenger goes to ask a question, or a train conductor
asks for tickets, the body will simply fall to the ground, startling all
passengers on the transportation vehicle. I may even make the local
news with this one!
Other options of mine are to throw the body out of a moving vehicle on a
busy street, shoving it into a recycle bin on garbage day, sending it
down the river during the opening of a new dam, being thrown out of a
window during a political protest, halfway buried in an elementary
school park, and even thrown in the middle of a mainstream parade. The
truth is, I could go on for days trying to think of what to do with my
corpse after I die, and what the ideal death would be. But, just a hint
to all of my friends reading this--If I die, try to make my death well
remembered. I don't want to be remembered as what I eat.....
Pussy! (I Wish)
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4.) Children Behave (thats what they say when we're together)
by Kid Ikarrus
(etrican4@yahoo.com)
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The human thought process has always boggled my mind. Attention spans,
emotions, just anything psychological fascinates me. I'm never going to
peruse this interest, because I have a feeling the closer I get to
understanding, the less foreign and fascinating everything is. I wish I
was still a kid. I started thinking about it the other day when I was
baby-sitting. It kind of upset me, because I almost felt like my
childhood truly was a waste. I spent a great deal of my time at home, in
my room, playing video games. Even as a child I was against t.v, so I
spent all my time ironically in front of it playing video games. At
first it made me mad, thinking that I had no real memories of my own to
cherish of my childhood. But of course, I do, I am human after all. The
memories I do have in fact, I cherish more simply because there are so
very few real memories. I always smile back at the days when nothing
really mattered. Days where over 56 hours, enough time for school,
homework, video games, friends, and various other activities. Renting
movies and games was like a holiday each time. My parents would always
tease me about renting a game, because they wouldn't see me until it was
due to be returned. Which was entirely true. Although the ideals of
being adult, the more responsibility, more freedom, more of a lot of
things are great, it truly will never compete with the purely liberal
free caring outlook on life during childhood. I entertained myself for
days with toys and action figures. I can only wish life was easy. It
takes a lot more to entertain me now-a-days. I have a hard time watching
a whole movie now, and movies are my life. I haven't sat down at a video
game with the intent to beat it in ages, and practically every game I
rent don't get more than an hour of my time. When things are free, I
don't feel like I should get my money's worth out of it. I can't just
play basketball by myself, I can't just sit on the swings and think
about my life. I barely fit on the swings. I miss the thrill of
"Ultimate Ping Pong". I miss the feeling I used to get when I sharpened
a pencil to that almost impossible point of perfection. I miss the
feeling I got when I had that perfect pencil pressed against a snow
white blank paper. That first spot, stretched into a letter, into a
word, into a story. That first spot stretched into a line into a curve
into a picture. All these feelings are lost to me now. My stories always
end unfinished and too highly criticized. My pictures never work the way
I intend them and so my drawing abilities have suffered because of this
preconceived notion. The days in which sledding used to be the highlight
of the week are gone to me. The hills, now are so small, the thrill so
lacking. I don't ever just play in the snow, play in the park, play in
the sandbox, the house fort, the basement. Life's small pleasures have
changed. Sinking every finger into a giant ball of play dough is
replaced with a feeling of mutual affection for the other gender. Money,
lies, deceit, greed alcohol, coffee, drugs, sex, violence: candy,
movies, board games, spaghetti o's, sledding, noncompetitive checkers,
pajama day, stuffed animals, Gi Joe. Just look at where its all gone,
look where all the future children are to go. "If you're not a liberal
at 20, you have no heart. If you're not a conservative at 50, you have
no brain." I think growing old truly is the greatest of all evils. At a
young age, all you care about are those people, those things, those
emotions that make you feel so loved, so wonderful. You'd give any sum
of money to keep those things, to keep your rights and others from being
taken. When you're young money doesn't matter, what matters matters. If
that makes any sense. When you start growing older, everything begins to
focus on what society has taught you to focus on: you possessions, your
money. Life changes from that secure little "playground love"
environment to that lover of the mad mad mad mad mad mad mad dog-eat-dog
world we know of. Every man for himself, good luck getting anywhere
without stepping on someone else. Lord of the Flies pretty much
demonstrates my theory. A bunch of kids are trapped out on an island.
Their initial intent is good, but disagreements occur, so the kids split
up, and one group slowly becomes savages. Are children initially good?
Are we all born with a good heart? Is it the long long time of exposure
to our long corrupt society, our long darkened heart of a planet, that
truly scars the children, making them bitter old adults? Or is it simply
events throughout ones life, very stressful events that force one into
being evil and careless? Are people even meant to be good at all? Or are
we all eventually to evolve into the evil old person? But what ever
happened to the days when all you wanted was that big lollipop, but you
couldn't get it? You'd spoil your dinner. You grew out of it. Those
lollipops gross you out, because your drool ends up all over your hands.
That never mattered before, all that mattered was that sucker. I never
got that big sucker, and right now I'm coping with the disturbing fact
that has finally hit me. I've come to the painful realization that I'll
never get that sucker, there truly is no turning back. I'm never going
to be a kid again, no matter how much I act it. All you can really do in
life is hold on to this crazy roller coaster of change and flow with it,
because nothings ever going to be the same. Tomorrow unfortunately is
definitely not going to be like today, sorry! I think its hard for us to
realize that in our society today, everything is so fast paced one day
you're crawling the next day you're going to work. It eventually gets to
the point where your adult life has clicked into place (and become so
incredibly boring) so much that you just forgot what childhood was truly
like. So what better way to refresh those incredible feelings, that
wonderful sense of freedom, that feeling of being introduced to an alien
world that makes no logical sense at all. That feeling of constant
discovery, enthusiasm to learn, to accomplish, to love and be loved.
What better way to re experience those feelings than to raise some
yourself? After all, there's no way you can lose! Lots of sex, getting a
child, who you get to see grow up and do (hopefully) everything you
failed to do in your life. The sense of pride of a parent is always a
great deal stronger than the sense of accomplishment of the child. I
didn't care at all about graduating from grade school or (God help me)
getting confirmed. But my parents made a big deal out of them, just
because they were proud of me. So truly growing up is one of those
paradoxes in life you just can't explain. The true question I want to
leave you with: If you had the choice would you never grow up?
"Watch how you play!"
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5.) The Den of Creativity...
by CaseyB
(bananamanc@yahoo.com)
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For days I've been clearing out my basement to make it a den of my
creativity. A place where I can easily outlet myself to the world. My
place of serenity and freedom.
In order for my basement to achieve such feats, I had to personalize it
towards my style and personal demeanor. I loaded my basement with Cheese
Nips, put a small tv down there, brought my porno collection (and some
Kleenex), hung some greenery (no, not weed!), and brought my computer
down there.
It looked perfect, and I was quite impressed with myself (and my
slightly feminine design skills). It was my own little Utopia, a place
that would now on be referred to as 'Casey Land'. It was great! Though,
to all good things there must be an end.
While I was admiring the beauty of my accomplishments, my mom came down
to see what I was up to. For those of you who don't know my mom, she is
the modern day 'Jekyll and Hyde'. Her split personality ranges from the
most caring person you will ever meet, to her child hood days as the
evil sister from the Black Seed.
I nearly fainted when I heard her Tales from the Crypt voice scream at
me, "What do you think your doing?!?" I jumped up, looked at her, and
started stuttering more than a teenager trying to kick crack.
Now, as I am typing this, I am supposed to be cleaning up my 'mess' in
the basement. All I wanted was a place where I could write in peace!
Sometimes it is hard to feel freedom in such an oppressing world. Or,
maybe I am just being the baby that I am!
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6.) Fairies
by B.G. Sims
(divineblood@hotmail.com
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Luisa sat down on the muddy ground. She took out a cigarette from her
black leather handbag, lit it and let the nicotine flow through her.
Its 3 am, the creatures of the night are wide awake by now. The woods
she is in are deserted, as expected, which is perfect for her visitors.
Luisa's skinny figure casts a small shadow, as the lantern behind her is
nearly out. She put out her cigarette, now she is ready for the
summoning of her guests. She stood up and slid off her tight black
jeans, pulling down her underwear with them. She undid the buttons on
her shirt, revealing her breasts, and she laid down on the floor, legs
apart, letting nature embrace her naked soul. The time is right, the
conditions have been met.. nows the time... "Angels fly and demons
fight, let the dark fairies into my life, and feed on my eternal light".
Her body rushed with lust, a pure orgasmic feeling had overwhelmed her,
making her rythe and scream at the top of her voice. The feeling
subsided, and she was left smiling, gazing at the pure black night sky.
"Grendal.." she said, rather out of breath, "are you here?". She sat up
a bit, and felt a warm hand on her arm. "Of course Im here my princess"
said the man holding her arm. He pulled her up onto her feet, and all
of a sudden, she was dressed in a long, gothic black dress. Grendal is
about 6 feet in height, his long black hair waving around in the cool
breeze. His eyes are a pure black.. like an abyss of misery, sadness
and pain. Grendal moved closer to her, "And for what pleasures have I
been summoned for on this merciful night my dear?" . Still smiling,
Luisa kissed him, then saying "i have a job for you..." she hesitated,
not sure if its a good idea to tell him... "Paul Laurence, the teacher
at my school, well.." tears began to fall down her face, "he raped me,
abused me, and.. and... i need him to die". Grendal embraced Luisa,
"I'll give him what he deserves don't you cry over it".
Luisa's alarm went off at 7. Too early in her opinion, but school is at
8:45. She walked sleepily into her kitchen, and saw a surprised look on
her mothers face. "Im glad your awake honey... i just read in the
paper..." her mother took a deep breath, still hardly being able to come
to terms with whats happened... "Mr. Laurence has been murdered" .
Luisa sat there with a look of amazement on her face, although inside,
all she felt is happiness, that he got what was coming to him. But
happiness has its price after all. The school is still open, although
there will be a memorial service in the school hall to remember him.
Him... Mr. Laurence. Luisa closed her eyes and began to recall the
events.
End of school, the bell rang and the kids were dismissed. Mr. Laurence
had names on the board of who had to stay behind. Luisa was one of the
three names. She was officially in detention. A normal occurrence for
her, as she was loud mouthed and not interested in her exams at all.
Mr. Laurence handed out the detention assignments and waiting for 30
minutes while the 3 students completed them. Of course, Luisa was not
even prepared to do this, and she sat chewing bubble gum while the other
kids worked. 30 minutes was up. "Ok, your dismissed. Luisa, stay for
a moment". The kids left, and Luisa, still chewing the bubble gum,
looked at Mr. Laurence with cold eyes. She hated him. He was always
talking down her, always calling her a pathetic cow and he even
humiliated her in front of the whole class when he got the chance too.
He slowly walked up to her, and she just stared at him, knowing he was
going to say his usual speech about discipline and rules. But this
time, he was different. "Luisa... you wont do the mock exams at the
rate your going. No exams and no future. You will die without a real
way to live your life". She spat out her gum, onto his shirt. He
peeled it off and stuck it firmly onto her desk. "What are you going to
do... sir?". He smiled, with a grin she had seen before. It was
twisted, with hints of a sadistic nature that she had witnessed before.
But then, he turned to her, and moved in close to her face. "I can help
you, Luisa. But you have to help me. Do you want a life? A future? A's
in your exams perhaps?" he said then moving to the side of her head,
and whispering in her ear, "I can make that all happen, if you just...".
He stopped and moved away from her. He was licking his lips, and the
same grin was still smacked across his face. Luisa stood up, and walked
over to him. "What the fuck do you want you creep?". Mr. Laurence's
expression changed and his face went rigid with anger. he grasped her
by both shoulders and shook her, saying while he did it "Give me what I
want Luisa!! I'll give you A's on everything" . His left hand began to
slip down her arm, onto her hips, and then moved across to the middle of
her skirt. "I'll give you what you want" said Luisa with a smile, and
she kicked him in the groin, and tried to escape from his grasp. he was
strong, and pulled her back from his chest was against he back. He
walked over to the doors, still holding onto her, and turning the key in
the lock. She looked round and noticed the windows were smoked, so
no-one could see out... or into the classroom. He placed one arm
tightly around her his fingers slipped down the front of her skirt and
into her underwear. He moaned and he felt the flesh inside. She
struggled but he only held tighter, and he pushed her onto a desk and
pulled down her underwear. A dreadful feeling shot through her, as he
violated her essential being. And the rest is history.
He's dead, Luisa thought to herself as she walked through the hallway of
the school. She went into the bathroom and looked at herself in the
mirror. How glad she felt, that Grendal had answered to her wishes as
he had before. He wiped away her suffering and fear of people. He
turned darkness into light, and filled her with a pure sense of
happiness. She must see him again. Hug him and let his strong arms
caress her being. She washed her hands and left. She paced quickly
down the hallway and past the class she was supposed to be in. After a
few minutes of walking, she got to the back exit of the school, and
walked out. She climbed through the whole in the wire surrounding the
school and she ran as fast as she could, towards the woods.
As she got there, she noticed there were far less people than she
expected. Not that it mattered, as where she is going, is a place that
no-one has ever found before. They call the woods the "Forest on the
cliff". The cliff's edge was high, yet had tree's roots hanging out off
the edge, as if the tree itself would fall and crash to the rocks below.
Luisa walked along the cliff edge, looking out for the small hole in
the ground, that marked where she needed to go. She found it, and began
to climb down the edge of the cliff. But this, this was no ordinary
cliff. On one side, there is sea and sharp rocks below. On the other...
there is a safer way down, that leads to cave at the bottom. Luisa had
been here many times before. No-one knew of it, as they all considered
it was too dangerous to attempt to climb down. Luisa only discovered it
one day when she was walking her dog, and slipped off the edge and
scrambled down. On that particular side, the cliff is not as steep and
sharp as it seems. Luisa reached the bottom and ran through the cave.
She ran as fast as she could, following previous markings she had made,
as to where she needed to go. As she reached the end, there was a
light. She stepped outside of the cave, and she was now in a place
no-body had visited ever before. The grass grew wild and the tree's
were long dead, but the plant life was beautiful, and the view of a
river in the distance was stunning. Louisa did as she had done before.
The naturalistic fairy summoning ritual she had once read in a thick
black book in the library. After saying the chant and going deep into a
state of wonder and calm, Grendal appeared. She got up off the ground,
hugged and kissed him as she had done any times before, and then she
thanked him. "My princess" he said with a soft, sweet voice "I would do
anything to stay by your side. The goodness in your heart gleams like a
candle in the dark. Philip Laurence is gone now, I promise you. No-one
will ever harm you again" . Luisa smiled and said in a saucy manner
"Now... is there anything I can do for you?". She licked her lips, and
a sparkle in her eyes made Grendal smile. "Luisa... come with me, into
my world. We could stay with each other, without risk of anybody
finding us here together". Luisa embraced him and said "No-body knows
about this place". "But they will Luisa, in time. Once one person
discovers something, its only a matter of time. They're looking for
you, Luisa. Your school, they are questioning pupils already". Grendal
smiled and continued to hold her in his arms. Luisa sighed, and said
"Then let us be together without them" .
Nightfall came, and as instructed by Grendal, she returned, in her best
clothes and underwear. She brought a bag with her, full of her things,
to take with her. In the bag, was make-up, a few spare clothes and the
book that first brought them together. As per usual, she did the
ritual, and summoned Grendal. He had a gleam in his eyes as she had
never seen before. They embraced and he said softly "Your life will
change from now on... you are mine now, for all eternity". Luisa smiled
and kissed him on the cheek. "Let us begin, said Grendal in a louder
voice. He stepped back from her and lifted up his arms, making strange
movements, as if to form symbols in the air. He began to say a chant...
something she had read in the book before. It was not documented as to
what it did, but Luisa didn't care as she just stared in amazement at
Grendals good looks and swift movements. A white sphere of light began
to form in front of him. It grew bigger, until it was big enough to
overwhelm them both. Grendal held out his arm to Luisa, and he pulled
her close to him, as they walked straight into it. She felt a wonderful
bliss of emotions as they traveled through, into his world. Within a
second they were on the other side, and in a huge white room, with a
swimming pool, filled with people chatting happily to each other.
Grendal lead Luisa into another room. It was small, was a bed and some
chairs, and a note left on the pillow. "I have to go for a few minutes"
said Grendal, "You stay here, and I will be back to claim my love to
you, sweet princess". He left the room, and closed the door. Luisa lay
down on the bed, and removed the note from its envelope, and began to
read. 'Luisa, you are here with me to stay for all eternity. Enjoy it
while it lasts'. As she read this, the room began to change. The
gleaming white walls began to melt, and a dark color, nearly black began
to show from under them. She anxiously looked round the whole room, and
as she did so it shrank. Closing in on her and eating up everything in
its path. She closed her eyes and opened them again, trying to believe
it was her imagination. But all of a sudden, the room got even darker,
and there was no light at all. She could feel the walls closing in on
her, caging her like a helpless animal. She reached out with her arm
and hit a wall. It had stopped moving, but she trapped in the box that
she used to believe was beautiful, but not fallen from grace into
darkness. The ceiling was only one inch above her head, and she didn't
even have room to stand up, only sit up with her knee's close to her
face. She began to cry, and scream out for Grendal, but no-body came.
She closed her eyes again, wishing, hoping and preying for it to all
end, and to go back to the beauty it was. She unleashed a scream of
absolute terror, than seemed to be flattened by the walls of the box.
She franticly banged against the walls, hyperventilating, trying to
conserve what little air she had left in the box. After 10 minutes of
screams and anger, there was silence. A silence that no man could ever
describe, that no human could ever withstand. Luisa could not breathe
any longer, and she gasped for air several times. Her eyelids grew
heavy, and she knew death was waiting for her. She decided to welcome
it with open arms.. anything to release herself from this prison of
walls and darkness. Her eyes closed.
"10 green bottled sitting on the wall... if I push them, they will
fall... If i miss them, mine they be, its my time now, just you... and
me". Luisa awoke from her deathlike sleep. What was previously the
box, was now a room once more. The black walls stained with grime and
blood. A single window let a tainted stream of light into the room, but
only illuminating the things in its path. The rest of the room remained
dark and disturbing. "The black birds that got baked into the pie" said
the voice she woke up too, "they committed themselves to the agony of
being eaten alive. The cancer that flowed through them, gave them the
desire to kill, but the pie, gave them what they always wanted...
death". Luisa recognized the voice, but could not place who's it was.
She strained her eyes to try and see where she was. She was laying
down, on what looked and felt like a bed. It was moist and grungey,
much like the walls of the room. She tried to get up, but couldn't. Her
back ached and when she attempted to push her self up with her hands,
she found herself to be tied up. Legs tied to what looked like
bedposts, and arms tied above her head. Beyond the stream of light, she
could make out a figure. Tall, but sluggish. Moving back and forth,
but never entering the light. She tried to scream, but as if by a mere
thought, her mouth was gagged. She struggled, trying to free herself,
but there was no hope at all. The figure moved about more, talking to
himself as if there were many people in the room with them. He slowly
moved forward and into the light. Luisa tried to scream with horror,
when she saw the heavily burned face, the ravaged shirt stained with
blood, and the hands that once held her down against her will.
"Remember me?", said Mr. Laurence's disfigured body. "You know... you
never did do that homework assignment I gave you". Now extremely
frightened and manic, she twisted and turned her body, trying
desperately to free herself from the bonds that held her in place. Mr.
Laurence walked over to her, running his hand from her ankles and up
into her skirt. The brutal feeling of violation spread over her once
more, and she had tears in her eyes. She could not even see him, just
feel his vile hand abuse her body like it were a doll. The bed bowed
and creaked and he climbed upon her, penetrating her, destroying her
being. He undid the gag around her mouth, listening to her scream in
emotional agony, and cry helpless tears of fear and utter loathing.
"Grendal!!" she screamed, but Mr. Laurence did not seem the least bit
disturbed. "YOU PROMISED ME THINGS WOULD CHANGE GRENDAL!! YOU PROMISED
ME!!!". And as her last bit of breath was wasted, the room shifted
again, going back to the white abyss it was. Grendal stood, smiling, in
the corner of the room. "But it did change" he muttered, "I never said
you would like it. I just said you will be mine forever... which you
WILL BE!!". Luisa, now on the floor, clutching at the cuts on her
wrists, caused by the bonds, pulled herself up. She ran over the door,
and pulled it with all the strength she could muster. It was shut
firmly. "No way in, no way out, my princess". "I am not your
princess!!! I never was your princess!!!" she cried. Grendal, still
smiling, walked towards her and patted her on the head, as if to mock
her suffering. He laughed out loud and the sound echoed and twisted
round the room as it shifted back into its dark and gloomy state. Luisa
noticed her bag next to her, and she grabbed it and held it close to
her, like a security blanket a small child has. "Remember being 6 years
old Luisa?". She hesitated, and then nodded. "Remember your daddy's
birthday?". The word daddy shot through her like a drill into her
spine. "You evil ba-", Grendal cut her short by saying "Evil? me...
never... I was always on your side. When the children at school made
fun of you, I pushed them out of the second floor window, when your
boyfriend cheated on you, I gave him AIDs". He stopped, then, making
his voice lower, he said "When your daddy played with your body I was
the one, who murdered him". Luisa began to cry and scream as loud as
she could. The twisted emotions inside her were contorting her face and
making her whole body spasm in hatred. She curled up into a ball on the
floor and wept. Each tear a remembrance of her father, her early
childhood, her life. Grendal again patted her on the head, but this
time she lashed out at him, clawing at his chest and eyes like a wild
animal. He grabbed her by the neck and slapped her hard across the
face, with the back of his hand, and let her drop to the cold hard
floor. "Mr. Laurence is dead because of you, your father is dead,
because of you, and your in this world, to repay your debt to
existence!!!", then Grendal calmed down a bit, and helped her onto her
feet. She walked away from him, calling him a liar under her breath.
She picked her bag up off the floor, and the book fell out of it.
"What's that?" Grendal said anxiously. He went to grab it, but Luisa
clawed at his face. She quickly grabbed the book, and opened it. She
went back to the page with the chant Grendal said to summon his world.
She read it out loud and Grendal screamed in rage, running towards her,
as the sphere of light spread around her. "When the dark fairies want
a fight, you must always bid them goodnight". She slammed the book
closed, and in an instant, she was flung onto the floor of the forest.
Naked and scratched, she lay there, just taking in the fresh air and the
feeling of freedom she longed for back in his world. Her bag was with
her, by her side. It was torn and stained with the same grime as the
evil box she was in. She rummaged through it and took out her lighter.
Se held up the book to its flame, and watched as it burned. Black smoke
filled the surrounding area... and Luisa knew that the false hero was
gone forever.
End.
-------------------------------------------------------------------
7.) The Kinky Horror Film Re-make
by CaseyB
------------------------------------------------------------------
Today I came across the horror film 'Vampyros Lesbos' by Jesus Franco.
To be honest, I was disappointed, but the movie did deliver a good
amount of juggers and cleavage. Although, I did expect a little more(if
you know what I mean).
Even though this movie wasn't everything I expected, I must commend the
director on the title. I mean, what better way to stimulate male
hormones than with the word 'lesbos' in the movie title. I guess
Hollywood does this for so many other horror movies too. Take for
instance movies like 'Hollywood Chainsaw Hookers' and 'Idle Hands'. It
just makes for good advertisement: Catchy words for horny eyes.
So, with this in mind, I have created a list of film names to stimulate
the mind, and create new enthusiasm into purchasing already made horror
films. I guess I will call this list--
The Kinky Horror Films Re-make
1.) 'Astro Dykes' This is very self explanatory. What is better than a
couple of Space Dykes getting it on?
(Changed From Astro Zombies)
2.) 'Jason XXX: Vertical Smiles'. I guess if it was an asian flick we
could also call it horizontal smiles.
(Changed From Jason X)
3.) 'Ginger Snatch'. Who wouldn't want to buy a film named that?
(Changed From Ginger Snap)
4.) 'I Watched What You Did Last Night'. Freaky yet stimulating...
(Changed from I Know What You Did Last Summer)
5.) 'The Slightly Invisible Man'. For all you horny chicks out there.
(Changed From the Invisible Man)
6.) 'It! The Terror From Beyond The Dressing Room'. Mmmm..... Naked
Zombie chicks. They might be slightly decayed, but I'm still horney.
(Changed From 'It! The Terror From Beyond')
7.) 'Jack the Rapper'. Oh no!! It's Jack the Rapper!
(Changed From 'Jack the Ripper')
8.) 'Kiss me, Screw Me, Kill Me'. Just some added incentive.
(Changed From 'Kiss Me, Kill Me')
9.) 'What Lies Beneath: The Bedroom Version'. For everyone that likes to
have the top during intercourse.
(changed from 'What Lies Beneath')
10.) 'Texas Chainsaw Massacre 4: Leatherface - the Fetish'. It's one of
those crazy leather fetishes!!! Alright!!!
(Changed From 'Texas Chainsaw Massacre 4: Leatherface')
Well, that is my list for new and improved names to make horror films
seem more interesting. Hopefully Hollywood will catch on and use some of
these for the remastered editions of the films. I'm sure they will
boost sales!
-------------------------------------------------------------------
8.) Rock On Ninjas!
by JackiV
------------------------------------------------------------------
2002-09-24 - 10:04 p.m.
Sorry I haven't written in a while. I've been too busy thinking about
NINJAS! NINJAS ROXOR! Let me explain why ninja's roxor:
Ninjas are just like regular people but then again, they are totally
different from you and me. They get to wear a halloween costume all year
round! Some people may mistake them for arabian people but they can chop
their heads off if they do. They fight all the time. They chop people's
heads off at the drop of a spoon or the open of a window. They totally
flip out on everyone and everything. They have babes hanging all over
them. They wail on their guitars when they are bored... and DAMN! can
they wail! Dude, they even kick their own MOMS in the face! That's how
bad ass they are! If anyone has REAL ULTIMATE POWER.... it's a ninja!
Ninja's are so brave. They sometimes commit seppuko... in ninja language
it means there is nothing to kill so they kill themselves. That has to
have a lota guts... to actually kill yourself!
Now if you still don't think Ninjas rock then you must have something
wrong in the head. You should go commmit seppuko because you are so
stupid or a ninja should chop off your head or totally flip outon you or
something. It is THAT bad! I LOVE NINJAS AND YOU SHOULD TOO! ROBERT
HAMBERGER ROX!
-------------------------------------------------------------------
9.) Real Ghosts
by CaseyB
(bananamanc@yahoo.com)
------------------------------------------------------------------
The Chicago-land area has a long American history--even the city itself
had burned down at one time. The area around Chicago is a long lasting
one, dating back to the days of French exploration, and even Native
American history. Much of the area has been left unbothered, creating a
feeling of a virgin land, most of which might never be developed on (due
to the wonderful people that have made most of this area the largest
forest preserve in the world, and have maintained it to this day).
Yet, with history comes lore, and of course, ghost lore...
Many claim that Chicago and its area is one of the most haunted places
in the world. With claims to fame of having the most haunted cemeteries
in the world (Bachelors Grove Cemetery), and one of the most haunted
streets (Archer Avenue), Chicago and it's area has held a much renowned
history in the fields of paranormal and ghost lore.
------------------------------------
Bachelors Grove Cemetery
------------------------------------
One of the most haunted sites in the world, and one of Chicago-land's
claim to fame, is the legendary Bachelors Grove Cemetery. Located down
a mile long dirt road, just off of the Midlothian Turnpike, is a place
where many people say that you can spot an apparatus on every visit.
The cemetery is surrounded by the Rubio Woods forest preserve.
The cemetery was established in 1864. In the past, Bachelors Grove was
a lovely site. Families would go to the cemetery and spend days at it's
lake and have picnics. The cemetery was then abandoned in 1965,
although a handful of burials were performed in the '80s. Bachelors
Grove was claimed to be a mobster dumping ground (into the query lake
nearby), and later on in it's existence, a satanic worshipping ground.
Since then, there have been over 100 reported ghost sitings at the
Cemetery. One famous story from the cemetery is about a white house in
the distance.
Many have seen a white house in the distance. It is a very distinct,
gothic looking house, with a fence and playground out front. People who
have seen it have walked up to it, as it has gotten smaller and
disappeared. Other people have claimed to have come right up to it and
have it disappear before their eyes. Though, according to Suburban
folklore, anyone who enters the house is never seen again.
---------------------
the Candy Man
---------------------
We've all seen (or at least most of us), the cinematic masterpiece
'Candy Man' in all of it's horrific glory. But, how many of you knew
that it is true ghost lore from the Chicago-land area?
Candyman lived on the area that is now the Cabrini Green complex in
Chicago. The son of a slave in the 1890s, Candyman was gifted with
artistic talent. A prominent townsman recognized his talents and hired
him to make a painting of his daughter.
Well, shit happened, the two got it on, and Candyman ended up getting
her pregnant. This enraged the father, who had Candyman's hand cut off,
and his body smeared with honey until he was stung to death.
Somehow he lived in a world between life and death, where he appears as
a tall, cloaked stalker with a bloody hook. If you say his name
(candyman), in a mirror, he will come for you. Or if you don't fear
him, he will kill.
I don't plan on messing with either (frankly, the story scares the shit
out of me).
-------------------------------------------
Mary Worh (a.k.a. Bloody Mary)
-------------------------------------------
Bet you didn't know that this one started in the Chicago-land area!
And, yes, another story that freaks the living shit out of me.
As many know, the story of Bloody Mary goes: If you say her name in a
mirror three times, she will appear and scratch your face. But,
recently, this story has been traced down to Lake Michigan, an area that
stretching northward out of Chicago, next to lake Michigan.
It was learned from a 90 year old lady, in 1960, who had watched Mary
burn on the stake when she was younger. According to tradition back
then, the bodies after executed would be buried in nearby St. Patrick's
cemetery, which today is the most vandalized cemetery in Lake County.
Still, this is denounced, for many believe that in that day and age, a
witch would not be buried in a christian ritual.
But, a more believed theory is that the Worth house was bought by some
Farmers years later. The farmer knew of the history (and of a girl who
had committed suicide in there), and yet was not bewildered by the
events. As he cleared the front lawn of his new home, there stood a
square shaped boulder. The farmer moved it, and used it as a stair by
his front door--The rest is history.
When this happened, the house took off on it's own. The wife would find
herself locked in the barn, plates would crash to the floor, and the
farmer had to ask himself the question: Did I accidentally move the
actual marker of Mary Worth's grave?
Later, the house burned down in 1986, supposedly of arson. Another
contractor tried to build a house, but the deal went bankrupt, and what
was build burnt down. Later on, another contractor succeeded in
building a cluster of homes, but the one closest to the site of Mary
Worth burnt down twice.
--------------------------
Resurrection Mary
--------------------------
Possibly one of the most famous of Chicago-land ghost lore is that of
Resurrection Mary. As the story goes:
A young man was driving down Archer Avenue when he came across a young
woman hitch hiking near Resurrection Cemetery. The man picked up the
woman, and they quickly get to talking. Both decided to go dancing at
the nearby Willowbrook Ballroom, and had a wonderful night. The man
drives the woman home, and leaves her, but quickly realizes that she
forgot her sweater in his car. The man returns to the house, to find
out from the mother that the girl has been dead for over twenty years.
Though, this story is probably not true, certain things are.
Resurrection Mary really does exist, and died in a car crash coming home
from the Willowbrook Ballroom on Halloween. On Halloween night,
Resurrection Mary lures on single men, asking them for rides, having
them drop her off at the cemetery, the disappearing as she reaches the
entrance.
Though, she has not been spotted since the 1980s.
*
As you can see, the Chicago-land are has many interesting ghost lore,
and stories. If you are a Chicagoan, beware--If not, have a nice
night's nap!
To Be Continued in Issue # 3......
-------------------------------------------------------------------
10.) Attack of the Zombie Moms (intro and part 1)
by CaseyB
(bananamanc@yahoo.com)
------------------------------------------------------------------
***********
***********
***INTRO***
***********
***********
The name is Wes Corpse, and at one point in my life I was just another
ordinary seventeen year old teenager, an only child, living in the
wonderful city of Bigtown. I had a normal job at the Shop n' Save, a
beautiful girlfriend, and my very own car. I had my collection of comic
books, a grand selection of punk rock classics, a room to call my own,
and had little to complain about.
Then, one day, everything changed.
I had noticed that my parents were acting quite funny. Both of them
would move in unison and speak in a bizarre monotone form of speech.
Even more frightening was their seemingly 'stoned' gaze.
Every day at midnight, both of my parents would claim to be going to
Taco Bell for dinner. Now, if you've ever been to a Taco Bell, and
eaten any of their cockroach infested delicacies, you would know
something was up. So, I stooped down to the lowest level of my
life--That of a stalker.
The next day, when my parents were going on their annual Taco Bell
munchies run (or so I thought), I quickly got in my beautiful 1980 Ford,
and followed them to where they were going.
In the beginning, they seemed to live up to everything they had said.
We were quickly approaching the local Taco Bell, and I was already
starting to dial-up our local substance abuse counselor. Then, I made
the big mistake of deciding to go for some Rat Feces Nachos at Taco
Bell.
I drove up to the drive thru, and waited for the drive thru attendant to
take my order. I waited, I waited, and I waited some more. I even got
out of the car, kicked the speakers, and tried mooning the camera next
to the menu--Still no response!
Something was wrong--and If I was smart, I would have realized that the
store was closed. But, that was not the case, and I drove up to the
empty drive thru window. I knocked on the glass, but no response.
I then proceeded to open the drive thru window, and peer in. Still,
there was no sign of anyone in the vicinity of the store. So, I jumped
in through the window, with the thought of "Free Nachos" on my mind.
There is when I saw the disturbing...
There stood my parents with the most loathed person imaginable--Mrs.
Finkertinkle.
Mrs. Finkertinkle is one of those scary fuck christian fanatics that you
don't want to mess with. The kind of people that shot Abraham Lincoln's
assassinator John Booth--The calvary man who heard a call from god to
shoot Mr. Booth, who was also a man who had castrated himself in the
name of god. Yes, Mrs. Finkertinkle was a dumb fuck like that.
As I stared at the scene in terrified awe (fearing my recently destroyed
social status in society), something very surprising happened. Mrs.
Finkertinkle took out a large jar of what seemed to be some sort of slug
or extremely large worms. There she spoke:
"Yes, Mr. and Mrs. Corpse... you have done my bidding well. You have
successfully diseased the city's water supply with my potion to put
those punk rock diseased kids back where they belong. Yes, once all the
parents drink from the water--They will be under my control! Then those
damn punk rockers will have to obey their parents. Obey or die!"
What the fuck! This had to have been the funniest thing I had ever
heard. What was wrong with this crazy fuck? But, once again, I was
shocked by her actions.
There, Mrs. Finkertinkle opened up the glass jar of her mystery bugs,
and held one in her hands.
"Yes, my beautiful pets ," she said. " They provide me with much joy.
Thank you Mr. and Mrs. Corpse, but your services are no longer needed."
She placed the bugs on my parents, and to my horror they started to eat
through their skin. Yet, throughout the seemingly painful and torturing
event, my parents did not move a muscle. They just stood there,
oblivious, as the fiendish bugs chewed threw their skin.
I stood there, holding my tears in, as my former parents were consumed
to little more than a few piles of flesh on the floor. Why did this
have to happen? How insane was this christian, antichrist, fuck?
All of a sudden, in my disgust, I accidentally kicked over a mop. It
must have startled Mrs. Finkertinkle, because she jumped and looked at
me with a sudden sadistic gaze. There I did what any other soul in my
position would do....
Run!!!!!!!!!!
*********************
*********************
**the Dish Disaster**
*********************
*********************
As I arrived at my house, quite distraught, I came across a shadowy
figure crouching in the light of the nearby street post. I was very
tense about seeing who it was (cautious for it not to be a monster), but
was quite happy to realize that it was my good friend Sarah Wanker.
I always thought that Sarah was a beautiful girl. In fact, and not to
sound egotistical, we looked very much alike, and often were confused as
siblings. Both of us were the only children in our family, had bright
green eyes, a faint complexion, rigid nose, dark brown hair, dressed in
Black jeans, a blue jean jacket with patches of our favorite bands, and
brown, worn down combat boots. I think the only noticeable difference
is that she wore here hair in a mow hawk while mine was often done in a
dead lock. Other than that, it was honestly hard to tell us apart.
I instructed Sarah to get into the car, drove off (for I didn't want to
go home to an empty house), then proceeded to ask her what was wrong.
There she told me the story of her parents going crazy and acting very
strange (much in the same fashion as mine had).
"All I did was say that I was not going to do the dishes," claimed Sarah
in tears. "After that, my dad picked up a butcher knife and threw it
towards me, missing my head by mere inches. My mom then went to
retrieve the shotgun and started unloading barrels at me. I just ran
for my life!"
I quickly turned the car and raced towards my house.
"What's wrong with them!" screamed Sarah.
I told her the story of how my parents were turned to zombies to do the
evil bidding of the diabolical Mrs. Finkertinkle, and then how they were
reduced to ground beef before my eyes.
"Your parents are already dead," I explained to her. "Now we must put
their bodies to rest."
We arrived at my house, and I led poor Sarah to our shed in back. Here
we opened it, and took out the necessary tools to get the job done: An
ax, chain saw, shotgun, and a box of shells.
"No!!" cried Sarah, "You can't do this!.... they're.... my parents!!."
"They're no longer your parents, their minds are gone.... this is the
only way," I reassured her. "If there was another route, we'd take it.
But, there is none! They must be killed for the safety of everyone."
Sarah stared down at her shoes, dreading the idea that I was right.
But, what else could be done? I felt awful, but we had to, we had to
remove the disease... the disease that Mrs. Finkertinkle had put before
us.
Me and Sarah proceeded to walk to my car, and load it with our new
cargo. We both got in slowly, and set off to do what we both knew
needed to be done.
The ride was an eerie one at that. A tunnel of trees loomed over the
road that led to Sarah's house and the air smelled of early morning dew.
We both shook compulsively, for fear of what we were to do, and for
fear of our lives.
We arrived at Sarah's house, close to 3 A.M. Sarah's front door was
kicked out, and the windows were smashed. It looked like an abandoned
warehouse, or the scene of a crime.
I walked towards the back of my car and opened the trunk. I put a pouch
on my back, placed the shot gun in it, put a box of shells in my pocket,
and took the ax with my hand. I then removed the chain saw, and handed
it to Sarah.
"Use this if you are in trouble, I'll be back"
"But.... I should go with you..." shrilled Sarah.
"This is going to be dirty work, babe--I'll be back in a bit."
There I walked, trying to show no sign of weakness as my knees felt like
they were ready to collapse. I walked through the damaged door, ready
to meet my fate.
The room looked like the scene of a poorly done robbery. Papers were
scattered, tables were tipped over, lamps were cracked, and it smelled
of rotting flesh and dust.
In front of me was a thrown open closet door. I slowly walked up to it,
and looked in... nothing. All of a sudden, there was a hand on my back.
I turned around to see a molding faced, groaning zombie drooling over
me.
"Hello Beautiful," I exclaimed as I pulled out the shotgun from my back,
and sent the zombie flying backwards, half of it's head splattering on
the walls nearby.
There I grinned at my perfect shot, the zombies brains falling out of
it's head. But, to my surprise, the zombie started to pick it's self
up. There, it turned around, and spotted Sarah as it ran out after her.
Sarah began to scream, as I unloaded my last shells after the
zombie--all of them hitting, but none of them killing. I just stood
there, fearing the worst--
Sarah Ripped the chain saw on. She swung at the zombie, sending it's
head somewhere in the branches of a nearby tree.
"How about next time you keep these son of a bitches in the house,"
sarah said, sounding absolutely thrilled.
"I blew off the assholes head, and it still got away from me. What are
you going to do?!"
Sarah smirked at me, then I turned around and entered the shambled house
once more.
"One more, one more," I repeated to myself nervously. I turned the
corner, pointed my newly loaded gun at the wall, and saw nothing. I
kicked over some old newspapers, only to reveal rats--But what would I
find under there any ways, a miniature zombie?
I slowly walked up the nearby stair case, cautiously looking in every
shadow. Every opening in the walls I turned towards, but saw nothing.
I walked down the darkened hall nervously, finally coming to an opening
in the ceiling where steps were already brought down.
I slowly walked up the stairs, cautious of making any noise, for fear of
startling any creature that might soon be in my presence.
For the most part, the attic was pretty empty. If it were not for a few
scattered boxes, the room would be nothing more than a few cobwebs, and
a gothic looking window.
It seemed as if there was nothing to be worried about, yet as I began to
walk down the stairs, a drop of water fell upon my nose. I pointed the
gun up as I looked, and was startled as a Zombie Mom jumped at me. The
zombie slashed me with her nails, leaving a bloody wound on my face.
"Sup, bitch?" I exclaimed, as I released a barrage of shells at the
zombie, one connecting around her chin. This sent her stepping
backwards, but not counting her out--For she was now flying through the
air at me in full force.
The zombie mom connected with a striking blow to my face. I responded
with a knee to the stomach, as I brought forth my ax, grabbed her arm
and cut it off. I quickly whipped my shotgun back up, sending a shell
through her head, and making her fall to the floor.
I laughed, but the laughs quickly turned to woes as the recently
decapitated hand began to become animated and walk up to grasp onto my
balls. I yelped in pain as the decapitated hand held on with a gripping
force. I tried hitting it against the wall, then I tried humping at a
door, banging the hand into the door.
Nothing seemed to work! Alas, I picked up a metal ruler, and rubbed it
against the hand, until it split open and let go. I quickly retrieved
my shotgun (which I had dropped, along with the ax, during the entire
fiasco), and blew the hand into pieces.
Alas! All was well. No more zombie hand. And no more..... Wait! The
zombie!!
As this thought filled my mind, the zombie had already rapped it's hands
around my neck, obviously trying to strangle me. I took the back of the
shot gun, ramming it against the zombie's forehead. There, I kicked up
the ax, caught it with one hand, and took off the zombies head in a
finishing blow.
I proceeded to take the ax and chop the zombie into a million pieces. I
didn't want another incident with loose hands or something along those
lines.
I walked out of the house, and stood for a while in the door way. Sarah
looked at me, with my now blood stained rags on, and began to sob. I
walked up to her and held her in my arms.
"They are gone, their really gone!" Sarah cried.
"Yes, but my parents are dead too."
"What shall we do now?"
"I don't know, but I don't feel like staying her. Let's hit the road,
babe."
And that was it, we got into the car, and drove off. Drove off as no
one else, other than Wes Corpse and Sarah Wanker. Riding with the
first victory of the attack of the zombie moms behind us.
TO BE CONTINUED....
-------------------------------------------------------------------
11.) Local Bands
(Illinois)
------------------------------------------------------------------
__________
Article 57:
__________
* Pop Punk from Joilet! *
http://www.article57.com
http://www.mp3.com/article57
______________
the Gunga Dins:
______________
* Hardcore Pop Punk out of Springfield *
"Young, poppy, and honest"
-- Maximum Rock'n Roll
http://www.thegungadins.com
http://artists.mp3s.com/artists/248/the_gunga_dins.html
____________
Last In Line:
____________
* Pop Punk From Midlothian *
http://www.lastinline.local708.cc/
http://artists.mp3s.com/artists/380/last_in_line3.html
______________________________
Niagara Fell
(Formerely the Toxic Crusaders):
______________________________
* Hardcore Punk From Geneva *
http://www.niagarafell.com/
http://www.mp3.com/toxiccrusaders/
_______________________
the Replacement Complex:
_______________________
* Music From Homer *
http://www.trc-music.com/
************************************************
************************************************
** More music in next issue. CD reviews too! **
************************************************
************************************************
____________________________
Check out the Banana Juice website at:
http://www.shoecandy.com/~bananajuice/
----------------------------
Send any comments, suggestions, articles to:
bananamanc@yahoo.com
*keep in mind, all articles can be published
unless said otherwise in e-mail*
----------------------------
Next Issue / September 2002
"Angry Youth, Unite!"
___________________________________________________________________
___________________________________________________________________
V \
\ \_
\,'.`-.
|\ `. `.
( \ `. `-. _,.-:\
\ \ `. `-._ __..--' ,-';/
\ `. `-. `-..___..---' _.--' ,'/
`. `. `-._ __..--' ,' /
`. `-_ ``--..'' _.-' ,'
`-_ `-.___ __,--' ,'
`-.__ `----""" __.-'
`--..____..--'
Banana Juice Fanzine
Issue # 2
October, 2002
http://www.shoecandy.com/~bananajuice/
(c) 2002
___________________________________________________________________
___________________________________________________________________
