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Rhonda McFab,

in her home, had a lab –

with long silver tables

and jars nicely labeled,

entombing the oddest of odd.

From octopi ink to liquefied stink -

and the corpse of a man she named Todd.

Throughout the past year,

behind glass he would peer,

at the woman he’d soon call his wife.

“This time it will last!”

Her lips kissed the glass.

Then softly, she spoke the word, “Life.”

A table for two was set up to dine.

Rhonda gazed in at Todd,

“Tonight, you are mine.”

As the lights became dim,

she planned a life out with him -

proving destiny was hers to control.

With a flick of the switch,

Todd started to twitch!

He was hers now, to have and to hold.

Confusion and pain

was sparked in the brain,

that died a cold day last November.

Although declared dead,

to the food he was led.

His past, he struggled to remember.

“Wh...Who are you?” he spoke.

Rhonda laughed at this joke!

“Husband to be, don’t be silly! It’s me!

We’re to marry tomorrow, at noon.”

Rhonda toasted, “To fate!”

as Todd scarfed down his plate.

Then slurped his soup down with a spoon.

Disgusted by slurping (pet peeve number one),

Rhonda reached over and pulled out a gun!

“If I knew that you slurped,

I’d have kept you quite dead!

You are not the man I am destined to wed!”

Todd was then placed

near Bob, Zach and Joel.

Each of them snug

in their very own hole.

For the graveyard (from Rhonda),

was not very far and by morning,

her Reese peered out from the jar.

But when he awoke,

all that sparked was “just friends”.

So, his life (as well)

had two different ends.

She removed Reese’s photo

from wedding book cover -

and then posed by the jar

of her newest corpse lover.

But - Bob, Zach, Joel, Todd and Reese -

this dead group of boys would not lie in peace.

Their faces were sunken.

They looked mighty drab.

These vengeful rotten exes

had come for Miss Fab.

Joel picked up the hand

that belonged to dead Todd,

but it kept falling off

with each turn of door knob.

After thirty-first try,

Zach caught it mid-air.

He slapped Joel and Todd

and shouted, “Get us in there!”

Meanwhile, in basement,

where Rhonda’s lab hid -

it was just about time

to make her next husband live.

While waiting, she ironed

her wedding gown ruffles.

Her daydreams closed off

both ears from their scuffles.

She had loved all her exes,

but maybe more-so,

was the love for her first,

who was now a torso.

With huge beaming smiles

they were at Rhonda’s rear.

Then, she heard Reese’s voice -

“We’re home Rhonda, dear.”

Under house deep below,

she had nowhere to go -

and certain to fall victim in chase.

Beside her new man,

in his jar was her plan.

(Perceiving no other safe place.)

Todd’s own hand he did hold,

as the switch, it then pulled.

He gazed in at Rhonda and winked.

Turned now on her,

the tables sure were,

and what was her new beau to think?

He was sixth and named Clive.

Rhonda heard, “I’m alive!”

Then, the others, they started to sing.

Although half of him maimed,

Bob was fully ordained

and he threw them Todd's hand with the rings.

When it was all done,

Rhonda longed for her gun,

as the groom puckered up towards his bride.

The last meal he had ate,

was a garlic filled plate.

On a clove, he had choked and then died.

It was clear when they kissed,

this “smell” detail she missed.

If known, he’d never ‘scaped death.

As it’s three times (I suppose),

the strength of her nose -

and Clive had the worst rotten breath.

A few hours (give or take) -

in the jar she would fake,

that her true love had really been found.

Though she knew without doubt,

that once they got out,

he too, she’d return to the ground.

But until in the dirt,

with him, she would flirt.

And so, she flashed him some skin.

Aroused in a way

he’d not known ‘fore today.

Drooling, he quickly dug in.

The five other fellas

were getting quite jealous

as they watched him devour the dame.

And what he fed upon last,

was what held her whole past -

a delicious and science-filled brain.




Gary McGrew is a storyteller. His fictional tales can be found in books, poetry and short films. All of which, lean towards the horror/fantasy genres. His work is not meant to make a point and should never be taken too seriously. The stories he shares are intended to entertain and take you away from the stresses of everyday life. Sometimes campy and almost always fun with just enough creepiness to keep your attention without running away screaming. Gary lives in Seattle, Washington in a haunted house built in 1903. One day he will share his experiences while living there in his first non-fiction book and/or film as well.

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