DON’T BUY PASTA FROM THE SPLATTER MAN

 

DON’T BUY PASTA FROM THE SPLATTER MAN

 

 

– 1 –

 

I learned this the hard way at four A.M. on a windy winter night. The wind was shrieking at my windows, howling and moaning as if was trying to warn me of something.
I didn\’t pay any heed. I was too hungry to worry about what some spirit among the trees might have to tell me. I looked in the phone book. All the pizza places were closed at that hour –
except only one – \”SPLATTER PIZZA, WE DELIVER REAL QUICK\”.
It said, “Just enter your phone number, address and order, and you’ll never buy pasta
from anyone else.”
I was about to make the worst mistake of my life. I filled in the empty spaces of the order form shop on line. In almost no time there was a loud pounding at my door.

I was upstairs in the shower. Fernnie, my twin brother, he answered the door. There was
a lot of sounds like scrambling, scraping,tackling, run and a thump…I thought I heard a scream
as I was drying my hair with a towel. Then the door slammed.
I went downstairs. The delivery man was gone. There was the box of a
pizza, extra large on my kitchen table. On the box was written, “SPLATTER PIZZA !” in big red letters. The corner of the flat box seemed to be wet. It appeared to be dripping.

 

– 2 –

I was starving. I put my hand on the pizza box. It was  warm.

I went out on the porch and smoked some Jamaican herb.
I began hallucinating just a bit. That stuff is too strong for
me – I don’t need the flowering tops, the marijuana buds –
I’m more of a mushroom and chemicals guy. I like to keep
a clear head. Ho! Ho!
Well, some of the time…

Anyway, I was getting the munchies real bad.
I stumbled into the kitchen. I put my hand on the box.
The pizza box was still warm… Goody for me.
I tasted the wet spot on the corner of the box.
It didn’t taste like pepperoni.

The light was too bright. I had to focus. I turned one
light off. I opened the box. And what did I see? I saw my
own face staring back at me. What the fuck!? Is this some
kind of a joke?

It was my face, all right. But it looked twice as
wide as my face. And it was entirely flat – twice the size
of my head. The eyes stared up at me with no expression
in them. Dead pizza eyes. Some weird
sick attempt at painting my portrait I picked up a
piece. It was crispy and hot…

I noticed the oven door was open behind me.
The oven was hot. I turned it off and shut the door.
I had a bite of the strip of pizza. It didn’t taste
like pizza.
I had a horrible thought. ‘No that couldn’t be
true.’  I’ve been accused of having an over-active
imagination. I splashed cold water in my face,
then I went back out of doors and looked out
into the night. Still the wind howled and moaned
in the windows behind me.
I shut the door of the house. I went for a drive
by the lake. I had some thinking to do.

I got out of the car and walked out onto
a wharf into the lake. The lights in my rear view window
had blinded me.

I walked about 100 feet onto the wharf. I looked
across the lake. I heard footsteps behind me on the boards
of the dock. There was a large, athletic looking guy
walking up behind me.

I thought, “There is no way off
this dock without running into that guy behind me.”

I turned and started walking back. I saw the man
more closely. He was wearing an orange baseball cap…
On the cap were written the words, “SPLATTER PIZZA.”

I could see the guy more closely now. He had mad eyes
and a big crazy smile on his face. He was grinding his teeth.
In his right hand he held a samurai sword.

(C) 2015 by W.G. Milne

Reactions:   THIS IS PART TWO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Check Creepypastas for PART ONE

 

 

 

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