Round 2 is now upon us as we begin our trip down scream mask candle lane. This trip is much like candy land only there is less candy and more melting shit that looks like soft-serve ice cream. I hate soft-serve ice cream, unless it is served upon the bosom of a chesty young lady. Actually I love soft-serve ice cream, or not. I love bosoms, big big bosoms.

I must also mention that I bought the last remaining zombie and skull candles at Wal-mart that fateful day the Bleeding Brains candle article was born. I had to dig through the entire stack of scream candles to get my hands on the good ones. I can only ponder the fate of those 10,000 scream candles I threw into the middle of the isle to let children and shopping carts trample their waxy goodness. I guess no one was impressed by the scream candles either since you could have built a life-size "Big Ben" out of the orphaned bastards sitting lonely on the shelves.

There you have it, my amazing scream mask Bleeding Brains candle. He sits there unlit in all his glory taunting us with his somber blank eyes and ghastly expression. Directly behind him you can see our fine china pumpkin that was given to us by the Duchess of Netherlands. Why she would give us a priceless crystal pumpkin is beyond me.

Now that I sit here looking at my scream candle I notice that he isn't really scary looking, but looks more like he is really depressed. Maybe he knows I am about to light his wick and he only has hours left to live. Maybe he is saddened by the fact that he had to star in 3 films with Courtney Cox. Maybe he is upset because he knows I will have to have a quadruple bypass by the time I am 28. Either way, we are setting his ass on fire.

If you mouth the word, "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" in slow motion you kind of feel sorry for the little guy, but I like to mouth the word, "FAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAATTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT!!" instead and take pleasure in setting his head on fire. I wish I had a mechanical arm like Bionic Commando.

It looks like someone has been into my special stash of Halloween candy that I had prepared for all the girls and boys. Serves him right. It took me 5 hours to get all of those razor blades and safety pins into that bag full of Tootsie-Rolls. Bleed you son-of-a-bitch, Bleed!!

Well, that is either soft-serve ice cream coming out of his right eye or he somehow managed to conceal an aborted fetus in his waxen skull all the way from china. Though this concoction of melting dairy treat and cow intestine does look interesting I am not sure I am completely sold on it as being "scary". I would probably call it more obtuse than downright frightening.

Instead of ending up really scary the scream candle basically looks like a KISS fan that has been drenched in Gene Simmons bucket of ass sweat he likes to carry around on tour. Not only that but the fan has taken his time to part his hair and drown in a pool of frothy chocolate pudding.

In retrospect I would suggest not purchasing the scream candle at all. The candle was so shitty I could even break 800 words on this article and I am completely bored and tired. I now understand why I saw George Papadopoulos roaming around the Halloween section looking for a new orphan to bring home with an entire cart full of scream candles. At the time it didn't click, but now it completely makes sense. Does it make sense to you? If not you are a damned moron.

BONUS CRAP!!

Since the scream candle was so shitty I give you the other zombie candle I whipped into a molten wax frenzy:

Come back tomorrow and see the amazing skull candle that understands Hebrew and can dance like Michael Flatly.

 

-LaVarious
10-26-04