Black Cats And Quiet Lunatics

Usually I post on a Saturday, but today being what it is, I decided I'd do an image blog on Friday the 13th and other odd superstitions. Enjoy!

From Billy Goats To Dread Dark Monsters

Breaking Of Decades Old Curse Inadvertently Unleashes Elder Being Monster Upon World

Chicago (Reuters) The Chicago Cubs won the World Series this year, successfully breaking a streak of no wins in Major League Baseball’s championship that dated back over a century. They also broke the traditional curse dating back to the end of the Second World War, in which a fan and his billy goat apparently hexed the team to never again win a World Series after being ejected out of a game at Wrigley Field. And they broke a more recent bad streak that dated back to 2003, and the infamous Steve Bartman incident that had fans for years toting voodoo dolls of the unlucky fan who inadvertently screwed up their chances in the National League Championship Series. Following the win, many of those same fans finally gave up those Bartman voodoo dolls and forgave him.

The fans were ecstatic by the victory, in a dramatic Game Seven against Cleveland that’s been touted by some as one of the best World Series games ever played. Chicago has been overjoyed ever since, with celebrations of their team, signs everywhere toasting the success of the Cubs. It’s even given hope to other fans of hard luck teams under proverbial curses. Fans of the Toronto Maple Leafs are gleefully expecting that after fifty years of failure in hockey playoffs, this might well be their year as well.

And yet breaking the curse might have had a horrible consequence.

No, not the election- though that’s bad enough.

It was first reported emerging off the South American coast on Wednesday, a monstrous presence rising up out of the Atlantic Ocean and laying waste to the Argentine coast, working its way north. Witnesses described the monster as a bizarre combination of dragon, octopus, and humanoid, with two legs, two arms, massive wings, and tentacles around its mouth. Its body was dark and scaly, and massive- hundreds of meters tall, seemingly beyond the capability of a body to sustain life, and yet it was alive, gigantic, and incredibly dangerous. The clawed creature continued to carve a path of destruction as it moved north, horrifying onlookers, shrugging off missile attacks by national military air forces.

“It’s called Cthulhu,” Professor Frederick Van Helsing told reporters at an emergency services dispatch center in Halifax, Nova Scotia. The professor, who describes himself as an expert in occult studies and metaphysical philosophy, lectures at Oxford, has a reputation for being eccentric but brilliant, and comes from a long line of academics with a particular interest in the supernatural. Curious, since he shares a surname with a character from Bram Stoker’s novel about that blood sucking vampire terrorizing London. “Yes, well, it turns out Stoker knew my great-great-great grandfather Abraham and decided to weave a vampire story around him as a vampire hunter. What Stoker didn’t know was that the whole family has a centuries long tradition of vampire hunting and putting down monsters. We still do it today, though these days we seem to be encountering way too many sparkly vampires. Lot less dangerous than the classic version, let me assure you.”

Cthulhu, as it turns out, is far more than the soul consuming beast in fictional H.P. Lovecraft stories. The creature, Van Helsing explained, has been imprisoned deep beneath the ocean for millennia, and is one of the Great Old Ones of ancient pantheons. He’s the subject of worship by cultists, and is said to drive onlookers insane. “The last time he came close to escaping was 1909,” Van Helsing added. “My great grandfather Curtis Van Helsing arranged with a coven of witches to reinforce the magical bindings with a hex. As it turns out Curtis was a baseball fan, and hated the Cubs, so he figured putting a curse on the Cubs that would simultaneously keep Cthulhu imprisoned was a win-win both ways. Except of course for Cubs fans, who had to put up with more than a century of failure, but you know, sometimes those are the breaks.”

At least until the Cubs broke the curse by actually defying the odds and winning the World Series. Doing that also shattered the bindings of Cthulhu. The creature stirred from its imprisonment, breaking free of the mystic spells binding it in the deep, and returned to the surface. Multiple reports of missing ships in the South Atlantic seem to have been the first indication that something was wrong. The beast worked his- or its- way up the coast, wrecking havoc across South American seaboards, seemingly unstoppable.

Millions fled from the coastlines as the creature passed through, all the while heading in a general northerly direction across the Caribbean. He reached shore in Florida, crossing the state from west to east and making a particular point of destroying the Disney World Resort. “We can confirm that the park is shut down due to an unforeseen difficulty,” Disney World spokesperson Chelsea Rae Stephens told reporters while the ruins of the theme park smouldered behind her. “But we’ll be right back up and running as soon as possible, just as fast as we can get Tinkerbell to rebuild the place. And by Tinkerbell, I mean the Tinkerbell Construction Company who do all our infrastructure repairs. The guys in the team hate the name, but hey, that’s what you get living in Orlando.”

Cthulhu continued up the coast, coming ashore periodically to devour souls and kick sand in the faces of onlookers. He paused near New York as if wondering if he should come on in and obliterate it- it’s practically expected in disaster films, after all- but for reasons of his own kept moving forward up the seaboard, unstoppable despite everything the Navy and Air Force threw at him.

Unstoppable, that is, until he met his match.

The creature crossed into Canadian waters off the southwest Nova Scotia coast, and headed straight for shore. The Canadian government, having had seen the futility of previous military attacks by other national forces on the creature, instead were able to bring a single man into the area in advance. As it turns out, the only person on earth capable of teaching Cthulhu some manners.

It was the legendary Mountie, Inspector Lars Ulrich.

Ulrich was dropped on a beach near Yarmouth when it became apparent the monster was headed in that direction. Witnesses saw him staring resolutely out over the waters. This was, after all, the same man who’d saved the world on multiple occasions from dark cabals, mad scientists, and megalomaniacs. This was the gruff Mountie who had made Godzilla cry and run away. This was the fierce bane of existence for many an entertainment reporter.

Cthulhu emerged from the sea to the sight of the lone Mountie on the beach. The Mountie stared back. There was a long moment of silence as the two simply stared each other down. And then Cthulhu broke the silence by speaking, in a loud, booming voice, in a garbled language native to the Great Old Ones. Linguists were later able to translate the creature’s words into a sentence, though one word stood out as, well, relative English. The translation came out to “hey, aren’t you the guy who plays the drums for Metallica?”

The last word of the sentence seemed to irritate the Inspector, who called out, “I am not that Lars Ulrich.”

Cthulhu appeared to be puzzled, and linguists later translated his reply from video feeds from the area as he asked, “Are you sure?”

Ulrich charged in and struck the beast, launching a vicious attack that went on and on and on. Cthulhu, despite being hundreds of times bigger, couldn’t even get in one blow as the Mountie unleashed a storm of punches and kicks, bringing the Dread Cthulhu crashing down into the sea. The creature lost consciousness promptly thereafter, bloodied, battered, and broken by a seriously annoyed Mountie.

In the aftermath, Van Helsing and his associates were brought in. A coven of witches first cast a teleportation spell sending Cthulhu back to his prison quarters deep beneath the sea, and the mystic spells were reinforced to keep him locked away. For good measure, a curse was placed on another sports team to ensure that the creature would not be able to escape. “We put a hex on the Maple Leafs,” Van Helsing admitted. “It’s not as if they’ll ever be able to win a Stanley Cup again, right?”

The last word belongs to Roy Stieb, the self described “Greatest Leafs Fan Ever”, a Toronto resident who’s been waiting all his forty eight years for a Leafs Cup win. “I was born too late for the last one, but that doesn’t matter,” Stieb said. “Cubs win the World Series, that’s a great sign for us. We’re gonna win the Stanley Cup this year, no doubt at all. And the year after that, and the year after that, and the year after that. Who cares about some curse? Who cares if that big nasty guy breaks out when our boys win the Cup? I don’t care. My buddy Joe doesn’t care. Do you care? Come on, we’ll invite Cthulhu to come up and join the big Stanley Cup victory parade when our boys win big time. Leafs forever, baby! Wooooooo!!!!!!!!!”

In the professional opinion of this reporter... Leafs fans are nuts.

A Day In The Life Of A Cubs Fan

It's been awhile since I've done one of these, so here we are. Fans of a certain baseball team in the Mid-West might want to kill me for this.

10:05 AM. At home gettin’ ready. Big day ahead. Big day! Our boys are playin’ those rotten Cardinals tonight, and for once, we’re not at the bottom of the standings. Sure, we’re quite a few games back, and the season isn’t gettin’ any shorter, but hey, if we win every single game from here on out, we’re a sure thing to win the World Series. This year, baby! The World Series is comin’ back to Chicago! Yeah!

10:21 AM. Puttin’ on my Cubs jersey. Joe and Harry are comin’ over before the game and we’re goin’ out to Wrigley. Might stop in at the bar beforehand and have a round or three. Then more after the game. I mean, hey, if there’s one thing Chicago fans can do, we can hold our liquor. Unlike those fans in New York or Boston or St. Louis. Am I right or am I right? Of course I’m right!

10:51 AM. Puttin’ in a lunch order over the phone. Chicago boys gotta have their energy before a big game. Then time to settle in, look over the Tribune, see what the columnists gotta say about the game today. Yeah, baby, we’re gonna win. Nothin’ can stop those Cubs now! Even if they’re playing the top team in baseball.

11:01 AM. ****in’ columnist, suggestin’ those Cards might be trouble for our boys. You know what that is? That’s ****in’ treason! Treason, I tell you!

11:48 AM. Lunch shows up before the boys do. Deep dish Chicago style pizza! Just the way it’s supposed to be. There’s a whole ****in’ ritual to this whole thing, am I right or am I right? Of course I’m right! The delivery guy looks at me like there’s somethin’ wrong with me. Maybe the stupid ****er is a White Sox fan. Hey! Cubs forever, buddy!

11:56 AM. Joe and Harry turn up. About time, boys! I was gonna get started on this pizza myself!

12:15 PM. Me and Joe and Harry eat and talk about the league standings and the games left to play. Hey, come on boys, we’re in August, our boys have been playin’ good lately, and unlike those Reds and Brewers, we’re just a few games outta first, not over twenty! This is our year, boys! What Cubs fans have been waitin’ generations for! The World Series is comin’ home to Chicago! Yeah!

1:36 PM. Cab comes to pick us up to head down to Wrigley. I mean, hey, we gotta be responsible, and odds are what with all the drinkin’ we’re gonna do, we can’t be trusted to drive, am I right or am I right? Of course I’m right. And of course all the drinkin’ we’re gonna do is gonna be in celebration of a big victory over those rotten Cardinals.

2:16 PM. Down around Wrigley Field. Lots of time before the game, boys. Hey, why don’t we go get a beer? Maybe pick up some ladies. Any woman in her right mind would want guys like us. I mean, we’re all winners, right boys? Just like the Cubs.

3:05 PM. Hey, boys, see her? That babe over there with the come hither look? Yeah, that’s the one for me. Wish me luck, boys. Of course, I don’t really need luck. I’m a Cubs fan.

3:06 PM. Just got shot down by that babe. Says she doesn’t date Cubs fans. Thinks we’re all losers. Hey! We’re doin’ better than those White Sox this year! Or are you some kinda Cardinals fan? Because that’s a betrayal of the great city of Chicago, lady!

3:07 PM. Return to the boys. Hey, what can I say? She’s a White Sox fan, must be, can’t stand true greatness or somethin’. Never mind that, boys. We’ll be laughin’ it all off tonight after the game when our boys win and we get lucky with three ladies who love the Cubs. I mean, this is our year! Those Back To The Future movies said the Cubs win the 2015 World Series, so if it happens in a movie, it's gotta be real!

5:35 PM. Okay, boys, listen, it's near time to get movin’. The game’s gonna start sometime soon, and we’re a bit tipsy. Lou! Some coffee for the road, somethin’ to sober us up before the game.

6:03 PM. Steppin’ into hallowed ground. Back into the stands at Wrigley Field. This is where baseball fans come to die... I mean, dream! Dream! Not die!

7:03 PM. National anthem bein’ sung. Thousands of Chicago fans sing along. Chicago fans singin'... this must be what heaven is like.

7:06 PM. Thousands of Cubs fans take out their Steve Bartman voodoo dolls and whack them over the tops of the chairs in front of us. It’s not like we can take knives into the ballpark anymore and stab the stand-in Bartman, right?

7:10 PM. First inning just about to start. Okay! Let’s play ball! Go Cubs! Kill those rotten Cardinals!

7:21 PM. Boys? Somebody tell me how we can already be six home runs down and the first innin’ ain’t even over yet.

9:36 PM. Humiliatin’. This is just ****in’ humiliatin’. How the **** could we be losin’ twenty four to zero in the eighth? Look at that ****in’ bastard Martinez. He’s lookin’ at pitchin’ a perfect game, boys! A perfect ****in’ game! Hey, it’s not over til it’s over, right? Maybe our boys can still score twenty five runs in the ninth, right?

9:51 PM. We’re done. Done! Those ****in’ Cardinals not only beat us with a perfect game for their ****in’ pitcher, they broke a record for a lopsided win. ****in’ thirty four to zero. This is humiliatin’ boys! Humiliatin’!

10:03 PM. Filin’ outta Wrigley with thousands of other downcast fans. Foul moods, grumbling, lots of grown men cryin’. This is a travesty. A travesty, boys! I don’t know about you, but I gotta get myself totally wasted.

10:21 PM. Back into the bar with Joe and Harry. Lou! Beer here!

11:48 PM. Havin’ another round. I’ve lost track of how many we’ve had. Harry and Joe and me, we’re grousin’ over the ****in’ game, wonderin’ how the ****in’ hell this coulda happened. You know what I think, boys? I think there’s a conspiracy. A big ****in’ conspiracy to keep the Cubs from ever winnin’ the ****in’ World Series again. And it’s been goin’ on for a century, boys. Well you know what? That’s not ****in’ acceptable.  I say we go down to Cooperstown and burn the Baseball Hall of Fame to the ground in protest.

2:45 AM. Stumblin’ in the front door. Managed to get outta the cab without throwin’ up in the ****in’ backseat. Of course, I threw up on the neighbour’s ****in’ front lawn instead. Man, am I gonna have a bad ****in’ hangover tomorrow. Oh well, the only cure for that is the hair of the ****in’ dog that ****in’ bit you.

Maybe when I’m awake I won’t remember how ****in’ bad our boys lost tonight. At least until I see the mornin’ ****in’ sports page headline, that is.