It’s time again for another installment of Omaha, Nebraska’s favorite family. Consider, if you will, that this seemingly benign dollhouse may also be a portal to another dimension. Tonight is Halloween and the portal will open wide, creating a pathway for the unknown, the unexpected, the things that are kinda expected but when it happens you are still like “Whoa! I thought I was expecting that but it was still sort of shocking when it happened!”
The Fooferturds have entered…The Seriously Messed Up Zone!
Our story begins on All Hallows Eve.
The moon creeps high into the sky, momentarily obscured by the thinning clouds. A dog barks in the distance, alert to danger that only he senses. Like when the dog goes crazy at the door and you look and there’s nobody there and you look at the dog and say “You are such a stupid dog! There is nothing out there! Do you need to go outside, stupid dog? Would you like to go on a stupid walk? Maybe you can go stupid pee by the stupid bush, you stupid dog.” Haha, ahhh. Man, is that dog stupid or what? Huh? Oh yeah…story. Focus, Jim…Focus.
Tom Fooferturd stirs in his fitful sleep, racked by nightmarish visions of historical First Ladies riding mythological beasts while battling with hordes of the bloodthirsty undead. No more cookies for him right before bed.
He awakens with a jolt. It slowly dawns on him that things are not quite right. He gently nudges his wife in an attempt to wake her. “Tom, I told you! I don’t find you attractive! In any way!” she groans. “Gee, Diane, while it is tempting, I would rather punch myself in the balls while watching Nancy Grace,” he says. “I’m sooo sick of your fetishes,” Diane replies.
They examine their surroundings. They are no longer in their bedroom, or even their house. A vast expanse of nothingness surrounds them. Well, except for the Starbucks.
Yeah, that is pretty weird.
“I know” Diane says, “I’ll send a message to our daughter! She’s always online. But first, I have to voice my displeasure over this new Facebook layout! I am sooo First World angry about this!”
“We are going to die here, aren’t we coat rack?” says Tom. “Yes,” replies the coat rack, “yes we are.”
Meanwhile, Grandma and Lemon Meringue won’t let a little thing like an inter-dimensional portal to hell ruin their Margarita Monday! Ole!
Diane takes a moment to compose herself while she listens to her self-help tapes. “Oh Anthony Robbins, help me be as strong as your big, white bonded teeth!”
“Diane! I found a way out!” “Let’s call this Dodge and we are getting the f…”
“For the love of God, Diane! Must you be a horror movie cliche? Way to stay on your feet for a whole THREE SECONDS!”
Tammy finally checked her Twitter. “I’m here, Mom!” “I’ll save…
That was unexpected. WTF, Timmy?
After their traumatic experience, Tom and Diane relax with drinks at an outdoor cafe. Gee, their server looks familiar! Ahhh! Demon Meringue!