Ghost

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The Ghost Donkey of Gudgeonville

The Zombie Board of Canada sent me out to research reports of a haunted bridge in Gudgeonville Pennsylvania. There folks tell of a ghostly donkey braying each night. The night air filled with the chilling sounds of a poor donkey who met a cruel end at the Gudgeonville Bridge.

The story…
We camped out at the bridge hoping to photograph the ghost donkey. The crisp air smelled like autumn leaves. In the distance an owl hooted “hoo-hoo?”

Already Pickledog was fast asleep. The clouds had completely covered the moon, surrounding us in the black of night. Then suddenly my flashlight died. I flicked the switch repeatedly. Foolishly hoping the flashlight would suddenly come back to life, but something supernatural had drained the batteries. So we sat in darkness with only the sounds of the owl, and Pickledog’s snoring.

Time passed. I looked at my watch it was 12:59, plus forty-five seconds. As I looked up from my watch the clouds began to clear, and as the moonlight illuminated the forest once more, my heart lifted.

My heart sank right back down, like it was trying to hide behind my stomach. The moonlights return revealed the ghost donkey standing right between us! He glowed bright green, and floated two feet in the air. The gruesome green beasts blank stare sent chills down my spine. My hands shook as I reached for my camera, but in my panic I had forgotten that Pickledog had the camera bag, and he was still fast asleep on the other side of the ghost. How could he be sleeping through this?!

The ghost donkey opened his yellow teeth releasing the saddest, most terrifying “HEE-HAW!” HEE-HAW!” Pickledog awoke. Somehow he managed to snap a picture, blinding me with the flash in the process. I staggered blindly, my eyes buzzing with white lights as the ghost’s braying rang in my ears. My foot caught on something. I fell, and then everything went black.

Happy Halloween!

IF – My Paradise

My paradise is the secret Isle of Hidden Snacks. Thee map’s not quite finished but we shall tellz yer the tale..
Me first mate Pickledog, and I were caught in a storm on the Orange Sea. Our ship was way off course, the compass needle was spinning round and round. We though we wuz doomed to meet Davy Jones in the big orange drink. Huge tangerine waves (thirty feet high if they were an inch) crashed against our stout ship throwing us overboard. We grabbed hold of a giant orange wedge floating beside us, and held on to the giant citrus for dear life.

In the morning we awoke on strange sugary sand, we had unknowingly discovered the Isle of Hidden Snacks…

A detail of our secret map. We only show yee cause we’re pirate friendz.

At the centre of the island we built a tree house in the Dark Chocolate Forest. Beware me pirate friendz of thee Root Beer Ghost that lives in the Licorice Lake nearby. He is very friendly, but kind of gassy.