this post, originally entitled "evil dead christmas," first showed its ghastly face in december of 2011. it's one of my favorites, and if you're new to these parts i thought you might enjoy this shameless regurgitation. merry scary, ya'll.
our holidays started december first, when we visited our much missed hollow legged amigos in their new abode. full of unstoppable christmas cheer, we decided to try a seasonal lights hayride. we brought The Child. at the very beginning, one excited patron stood up to take a picture. SIT DOWN NOW, the head farmhand blared. Hot Mama and i muttered merry friggin christmas to each other, and we were off.
the first stop was santa's workshop, where elves who obviously pulled double duty for halloween hayrides stuck sharp objects into mysterious boxes.
this one needed no weapon. just rocked gleefully up and down, hands poised for choking.
they parked us in santa's lair for a good five minutes. i think their goal was to scare us into submission. it worked: even though head farmhand disappeared some time during the workshop layover, no one dared to get up again.
the ride continued.
that unoccupied swing by the obviously haunted mansion swung slowly back and forth of its own volition. listen, ruggy breathed, you can hear it creaking. indeed you could, loud and clear over the christmas tunes blaring on the cart we were all prisoners on.
killer clown racing across the steaming fields.
WHAT THE HELL IS IN THAT GIANT GINGERBREAD HOUSE.
nothing says christmas like the holiday classic "proud to be an american". complete with lighted flag. the withered hands appeared somewhere around the last verse.
on the left: unsuspecting fools. on the right: freedom.
we left scarred for life. The Child left asleep.