Jon Phillips is a motion graphics artist, writer, and director.

Spooktober Stories

oooOOOooooOOoooOooo etc.

October 6, 2019.

SPOOKTOBER STORY #4:

On the morning of April 08, 2020, Lisa Graham tripped over her shoelaces, but was relatively graceful in her fall, landing on her right forearm and scraping up her wrist only a little. "Yowch!" she exclaimed, but it hadn't really hurt. No real damage, not even a torn sleeve. She was embarrassed, collecting things back into her purse before looking up, which she only did to locate the source of the screams that began to fill the morning air.

Lisa's individual tumble was graceful, but not everyone was so lucky. The "Great Trip," as it came to be called, caused serious and lasting injury to 1/5 of the human race, and counting industrial, vehicular, and other accidents, over three hundred million people worldwide died on the day of the Great Trip.

"It was as if some malevolent force had pressed 'pause', tracked down every human being on Earth, no matter how remote, tied all our shoelaces together, then unpaused and just watched the resultant chaos," summarizes Dr. John Illnich, a historian and collector of Great Trip stories. "Those who were barefoot or wearing only socks at the time found themselves suddenly wearing shoes appropriated from who knows where. Those wearing laceless shoes had them replaced with laced ones."

Not even those without feet were spared. Dr. Illnich's own mother, confined to a wheelchair after her left foot was amputated from diabetes complications, had a sized prosthesis, later determined to be missing from a research laboratory almost 2,000 miles away, attached to her stump, dressed with a pair of Nike Zoom Freak 1s, and tied together in a Yosemite bowline knot. Thankfully, as she was sitting in her wheelchair at the time, she didn't trip, as so many others did that fateful day.

After Lisa Graham untied her laces, stood, and retreated from danger, she phoned her family, which is when she learned the grisly truth: her husband Angel and two daughters, Maria and Penelope were dead, having tripped down a flight of stairs, fallen out of a tree, and been crushed by the car of a retired policeman swerving out of the way of a fallen dog walker and her dogs (also wearing compromised shoes), respectively.

Since that incredible tragedy, Lisa has dedicated her life to finding out the cause of the Great Trip, and making sure it doesn't happen again.

What will she do, if she finds the event was caused by a single "trickster," as Dr. Illnich proposes?

"I've got shoes of all sizes," she tells our reporter. "And industrial strength laces. And a working knowledge of all the most dangerous, steepest, deadliest staircases in every major city on Earth. If I ever find this son of a [expletive], it's [expletive] payback time."

October 3, 2019.

SPOOKTOBER STORY #3:

The year is 2004, and someone puts on Bowling For Soup, intentionally. "If you liked 'Girl All The Bad Guys Want,' you're going to *love* '1985,'" they tell you. This is great. You're loving this. Nobody stops you from listening to Bowling For Soup, because it's 2004. Pretty soon you will go to the movie theater and watch Meet The Fockers, like 44 million other Americans this year. That's not even counting DVD and VHS sales. It's the 7th highest grossing film in 2004. The 6th is The Day After Tomorrow, starring Jake Gyllenhaal and Dennis Quaid. On February 4, 2004, Mark Zuckerberg will invent Facebook. The tenth most popular album in 2004 will be "Now That's What I Call Music! 16."

October 2, 2019.

SPOOKTOBER STORY #2:

 

My sister, the stupid idiot and general all around dum-dum, got herself trapped in a time loop a couple of hours ago by messing around with a haunted clock or something. Every time I see her she is a lot older than the last time I saw her, which doesn’t seem to be how a time loop should work, but I don’t know what to tell you. I’m not a time-loop-ologist. Anyway she looks older than our mom now, who is 65, so she must have been trapped in this time loop for at least like 50 years. Ugh!

 

“Hey dum-dum,” I tell her. She mouths the words I am about to say along with me, which I used to find pretty disconcerting for the first hour or two, but now it is funny and I try to see what I can make her say. “My name is Patricia” (that’s my sister’s name) “and I’m the world’s biggest idiot, and I loooove being stuck in this time loop.”

 

She mouths the words along with me and it makes me laugh, although it’s kind of sad that she no longer tries to interact with the world in any other way. At least she isn’t asking me to kill her any more. What a dum-dum ha ha. I’m going to miss her

October 1, 2019.

SPOOKTOBER STORY #1:


“He’s been doing this for five years. He just told me.”

“Five years!?”

“I know, it’s really sad, I don’t even like him and I’m really sad for him. Five years of Spooktober Stories, Jesus Christ. It’s pathetic.”

“Pathetic. What is he hoping to accomplish?”

“Oh my god, he just texted again.”

“Should I look? I don’t want to look.”

“It’s a link.”

“To what?”

“Oh no.”

“What? What is it? Show me.”

“You don’t want to know.”

“I want to know!”

“It’s a link… to all the Spooktober Stories. On his personal website. He archived them.”

“Oh my god. Oh my god.”

“They’re not even searchable. It’s just a list of dates.”

“This is a nightmare. I want to wake up.”

“You can’t wake up. This is all there is. An endless nightmare. Direction has no meaning. There is no up, there is no uʍop, there is only…


https://www.32radians.com/spooktober-stories-archive


…ʎluo sᴉ ǝɹǝɥʇ 'down ou sᴉ ǝɹǝɥʇ 'dn ou sᴉ ǝɹǝɥ┴ ˙ƃuᴉuɐǝɯ ou sɐɥ uoᴉʇɔǝɹᴉp ˙ǝɹɐɯʇɥƃᴉu ssǝlpuǝ u∀ ˙sᴉ ǝɹǝɥʇ llɐ sᴉ sᴉɥ┴ ˙dn ǝʞɐʍ ʇ’uɐɔ no⅄“

”˙dn ǝʞɐʍ oʇ ʇuɐʍ I ˙ǝɹɐɯʇɥƃᴉu ɐ sᴉ sᴉɥ┴“

”˙sǝʇɐp ɟo ʇsᴉl ɐ ʇsnɾ s’ʇI ˙ǝlqɐɥɔɹɐǝs uǝʌǝ ʇou ǝɹ’ʎǝɥ┴“

”˙poƃ ʎɯ ɥO ˙poƃ ʎɯ ɥO“

”˙ɯǝɥʇ pǝʌᴉɥɔɹɐ ǝH ˙ǝʇᴉsqǝʍ lɐuosɹǝd sᴉɥ uO ˙sǝᴉɹoʇS ɹǝqoʇʞoodS ǝɥʇ llɐ oʇ …ʞuᴉl ɐ s’ʇI“

”¡ʍouʞ oʇ ʇuɐʍ I“

”˙ʍouʞ oʇ ʇuɐʍ ʇ’uop no⅄“

”˙ǝɯ ʍoɥS ¿ʇᴉ sᴉ ʇɐɥM ¿ʇɐɥM“

”˙ou ɥO“

”¿ʇɐɥʍ o┴“

”˙ʞuᴉl ɐ s’ʇI“

”˙ʞool oʇ ʇuɐʍ ʇ’uop I ¿ʞool I plnoɥS“

”˙uᴉɐƃɐ pǝʇxǝʇ ʇsnɾ ǝɥ 'poƃ ʎɯ ɥO“

”¿ɥsᴉldɯoɔɔɐ oʇ ƃuᴉdoɥ ǝɥ sᴉ ʇɐɥM ˙ɔᴉʇǝɥʇɐԀ“

”˙ɔᴉʇǝɥʇɐd s’ʇI ˙ʇsᴉɹɥƆ snsǝſ 'sǝᴉɹoʇS ɹǝqoʇʞoodS ɟo sɹɐǝʎ ǝʌᴉℲ ˙ɯᴉɥ ɹoɟ pɐs ʎllɐǝɹ ɯ’I puɐ ɯᴉɥ ǝʞᴉl uǝʌǝ ʇ’uop I 'pɐs ʎllɐǝɹ s’ʇᴉ 'ʍouʞ I“

”¿¡sɹɐǝʎ ǝʌᴉℲ“

”˙ǝɯ ploʇ ʇsnɾ ǝH ˙sɹɐǝʎ ǝʌᴉɟ ɹoɟ sᴉɥʇ ƃuᴉop uǝǝq s’ǝH“


:Ɩ# ⅄ɹO┴S ɹƎqO┴ʞOOԀS


October 23, 2018.

SPOOKTOBER STORY #22:

you can no longer remember which screens are touchscreens and which are eyeball-only screens. you spend the first five seconds of any interaction cautiously looking like an idiot

Spooktober StoriesJon Phillips
October 22, 2018.

SPOOKTOBER STORY #21:

Her heavily articulated exoskeleton (twice sclerotized dichitin 62%, carbon steel 18%, ceramic 15%, mantis egg resin 3%, misc metals 2%) scrapes against itself, her joints straining to configure themselves in a manner that allows her to rest comfortably in the cold steel coffin of the ship's hold.

Some of the pneumatic bladders that function as her musculature were punctured by roaming Shredkids when she was in the market, making some positions impossible to achieve without pinching her remaining internal organs between skeletal plates. She groans and flexes bladders B8-D15(3) to turn herself over, leaking a thin orange fluid onto the floor.

At least she was finally able to sell her heart. Hearts are worth double. Enough to make it off planet. Half-alive and half-conscious. Maybe dying. But not there.

Spooktober StoriesJon Phillips
October 21, 2018.

SPOOKTOBER STORY #20:

my (jon phillips) favorite cereal is raisin bran. i like it especially when it is mushy and gross. it makes finding the raisins with my mouth more fun

Spooktober StoriesJon Phillips
October 18, 2018.

[The original post for October 18th is lost, as I recognized that in it I dealt with sensitive subjects somewhat carelessly, and it could have potentially been triggering for some readers. No amount of spookiness is worth ruining someone’s day. I took it down.]

SPOOKTOBER STORY #18.1:

the original 18th spooktober story was a. not that funny and b. potentially triggering, so it's gone now.

here's an ambulatory janglebones instead.

giphy.gif
Spooktober StoriesJon Phillips
October 17, 2018.

SPOOKTOBER STORY #17:
ya wake up yer a spoon
"ah shite" ye think "a dannae wan tae be a spoon, am ah woman whots has human emotions and human thoughts like"

but yer a spoon and that's just how et es now and all

Spooktober StoriesJon Phillips
October 16, 2018.

SPOOKTOBER STORY #16:

Jerry the ghost is pretty pissed off. "Fuck and balls," curses Jerry.

Jerry used to haunt the local mansion where he had been viciously murdered, hanging around there frightening people so that they would solve his grisly demise. Only then would his soul be at rest.

Well, they solved his murder, but it turns out being 'at rest' fuckin blows! You just don't get to haunt the house any more, since you're no longer bound there, and you have to go haunt the coffin you're buried in instead. Forever.

It's cramped, there's nothing to look at but the inside of your own ugly-ass mouldering head, and you can hear the hundreds of other ghosts trapped haunting their own coffins in the graveyard around you, unable to escape, shrieking, driven insane by an eternity of solitude.

"Give it a rest, you assholes!" shouts Jerry, but they can't hear him. Being dead can eat a whole fart, thinks Jerry.

Spooktober StoriesJon Phillips
October 14, 2018.

NICETOBER STORY #14:

I am pleased to announce that my "Nicetober" experiment has been a complete success. This previous week of making only nice posts on Facebook.com has fundamentally altered the fabric of our society (for the better), and now things are good. All those things that were bad? They're good now. All the existential dread? Now it's existential BREAD, because: cash money, baby!

Having recharted the course of human existence from disaster to a shining utopia of brotherhood and compassion, I now feel comfortable enough to return to telling my spinetingling Spooktober Stories. Prepare to get your socks shivered off, starting tomorrow!

October 12, 2018.

NICETOBER STORY #12:

The moon and the Earth have been hanging out so long that they have nothing left to say, but it's a pretty comfortable silence. Sometimes when there's a tsunami or nuclear bomb explosion or something the moon will say "damn man, that sucks," which the Earth appreciates.