The Antediluvian World

 

The Adventures of Lou Breen

 

So there it is. The Adventures of Lou Breen!

Halloween Memory #11 - The Fall

 

Three Steps to Perdition 

(A porch-side tragedy in the minor key)

Story: "The Fall" (told in diverse ways)

 

In the category of "fun with AI" I made the following accounts of an actual event that I witnessed on Halloween day. Here is the prompt which is great in my opinion:

"Write a cheekily wry, sardonically serious one page story in the style of ________, about a 57 year old matronly lady who took a serious, leg sprawling fall down a 3 step porch entry way (slipped on a plastic mat) while calling out and showing a Michael Myers animatronic in her window. It was all intended as a cute little moment. Marred by a pratfall (which did not hurt her in the least - but should have put her in the ICU). She is a short heavy set woman with round black hair. She is so very very nice and sweet. The last person on Earth you would want to see tumbling ass-over-elbow down some crummy stone steps. Anyway, please conjure up this story for me please."

Here is the results.

The Unfortunate Incident at the Threshold

What follows is a modest account of a most immodest mechanical fall, in which the laws of Nature briefly relinquished their duties.

There are certain occurrences which, though outwardly trivial, possess within them the faint and troubling odor of the primordial. Such was the incident at the residence of a certain lady of fifty-seven years, whose name I shall withhold, partly out of respect for her considerable sweetness of disposition, and partly because the universe, having already made sport of her, need not be furnished with her forwarding address.

She was, by all accounts, a very nice woman. Indeed, she was so very nice that one might suspect her of having been fashioned by some benevolent deity who, in a moment of uncharacteristic indulgence, had elected to put a little extra kindness into the world. Short and heavy-set, with a rounded arrangement of black hair, she possessed that gentle, genial quality which renders a person beloved by neighbors and makes even the most hardened misanthrope feel vaguely ashamed of himself.

It was Halloween season.

In her window appeared the face of a Michael Myers animatronic, a grotesque mechanical contrivance whose expression suggested that he had just received an unfavorable ruling from the Department of Motor Vehicles. The lady, delighted by this seasonal acquisition, had determined to share its charms with the exterior world. And so she stood at the porch entryway, calling out cheerfully and waving in the directing of my son and myself  while pointing toward the ghastly figure in the window.

It was to be a cute little moment of positivity resonance. Life had another agenda.

The porch led to three stone steps, which in turn led to the sidewalk below.

And upon these steps lay one or two plastic mats.

I have devoted some thought to the plastic mats. There are objects which mankind has long regarded as harmless: the teacup, the doily, the garden gnome. Yet I maintain that the plastic mat belongs to a class of artifacts whose outward domesticity conceals a profoundly unsettling indifference to human suffering. It lay there, flat and innocuous, with the serene malevolence of a dark entity awaiting the proper conjunction of circumstances.

The lady trod upon it.

What followed cannot properly be described as a fall, per se, for the word is altogether too restrained. Nor was it a stumble, which implies a certain dignity of recovery. No. It was a wholesale repudiation of the vertical principle.

In a sudden and appalling disintegration of dignity, she went head over heels, back-side-ways, legs sprawling in directions which even Pythagoras might have found objectionable, down the three stone steps and into the rude sidewalk below, where gravity received her with all the hospitality of a medieval executioner. To glimpse a woman, for one split second, horizontal, a full four feet above the ground, was jarring. 

The legs appeared to splay convulsively directions entirely separate from each other.

As the plastic mat flew away, the Michael Myers animatronic continued to gaze implacably through the window. Cold. Indifferent.

There are moments when the mind, confronted with an event too hideous for ordinary comprehension, attempts to impose upon it some comforting narrative. I, for one, could not help imagining that the mechanical killer had witnessed the affair with an expression of professional admiration.

It should be quickly stated that the lady was entirely unhurt.

Not a broken bone. Not a sprain. No blood. Not even, so far as could be determined, the slightest affront to her constitution.

This, in itself, was perhaps the most disturbing aspect of the business. A tumble of such magnificent and anatomically ambitious proportions ought to have, by every reasonable medical expectation, resulted in hospitalization, observation, and at the very least a solemn conversation with an orthopedic surgeon in a room smelling of antiseptic and regret.

Instead, she was perfectly fine. No ill effect apparent, whatsoever.

The universe had issued a warning, then apparently evacuated the premises.

And there she was, this dear and kindly woman, risen from the pavement with the untroubled composure of one who had merely dropped a spoon. One might have expected tears, indignation, or a denunciation of the infernal conveyance beneath her feet. But no. She remained, in essence, herself: sweet, genial, and altogether too decent to entertain a proper grudge against an inanimate object.

We all were content for the moment to pretend that the entire unpleasantness had not actually occurred at all. Yet forcing itself forward into my mind was the image of a middle aged lady falling in such a way as to make even the most athletic professional wrestler blush with envy.

And Michael Myers, who had been displayed to provide a harmless whimsical Halloween thrill, continued his silent vigil from behind the glass.

I sometimes wonder whether, in the small hours, the Myers animatronic remembers the fall.

Whether it knows that for one brief and terrible instant, a nice lady of fifty-seven winters came nearer to catastrophe than any of us ought to go, merely to demonstrate a Halloween decoration.

But these are questions best left unconsidered.

For there are things in this world more ancient than reason, more implacable than fate, and infinitely less trustworthy than a plastic mat on a stone porch.

And three steps, it would seem, are quite enough.

The Universe Speaks

 

Dave Jerkenfokker

 

Halloween Memory #10 - Michael Myers! Celebrity!

 

One time Blaine, Izzy and I went to this highly decorated house on Halloween, that always goes all-out every year, with decorations and stuff. It's on the corner of Vance Jackson and Freiling, in San Antonio. Anyway, we swing by there pretty much every year. So, me and Izzy took my son there on this particular Halloween evening.

I was dressed as Michael Myers, and milling about in full costume while Blaine and Izzy got candy and looked at all the displays. 

One fun thing is that whenever I dress as Michael Myers, I make a good impression. I'm a pretty big guy. People will often take their picture with me. Last year at Olmos Park several people took their picture with me as I walked around. It's so fun. 

On this particular evening (maybe 2 years ago) while we were at that corner house, a very attractive college-aged girl approached me with her friend. She was acting like she was meeting a real celebrity. She said "Oh my gosh, Michael Myers! Oh, I LOVE Michael Myers!" and she asked if she could get a picture with me. She got next to me and put her arm around me and hugged me, while her friend took a couple photos. She was acting nervous and giddy with excitement. I swear she was even shivering. That was pretty cool. Glad I made her night.

Izzy and Blaine saw this and I was hoping they would be proud that their old Dad was like a sort of celebrity. Haha! Izzy seemed pretty impressed, to be honest.

Fun times, fun times.

Also last year, I drove through the drive-through at Bill Miller's dressed up in full Michael Myers regalia. It was awesome. They acted like it was another Tuesday. I was laughing inside the mask. Fun!

Update: This year (10/31/26) Izzy and me went to Olmos Park again dressed as Michael Myers. There were lots and lots of people there. It was super mega crowded. I was so much fun. People would get photos with me. Once again, children, men, gorgeous young ladies. They all love Michael Myers. I could hear people talking about me ("Oh look out, there's Michael Myers."), and once again I was a celebrity! So, yay! So much fun! 

Here is a photo from last night of me as Michael Myers!

 

 

Here is Me, Izzy (as senora spider), and Blaine (as Jason) 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Actual Coveralls