Sam Becker

Zoe Becker

Rietje Becker

Richard Becker

Nancy Becker

Emily Becker

Sasha Pevtsov

Jack Becker

Maddie HH

Sampson Seraphim

The Lazarus Motel had remained in the family for three generations. While its looks had faded, it was impeccably clean and often full. Sarah Lazarus, the newest full-time manager, had only just turned off the blue NO VACANCY sign when a beat up minivan drove in from the snow.

She did a double take. The minivan looked eerily familiar. The broken left hubcap. The right headlight that was dimmer than the rest. The fuzzy purple dice that hung off the mirror. It was unmistakable. But what was it doing at her hotel, at this hour?

Her cousin had always had questionable taste, but Doreen was the worst of of his never-ending collection of ladyfriends. Her minivan could only mean one thing-her cousin had returned. And was likely looking to talk to her about what happened the night he left town.

He tore out of town under a cloud leaving a twisted trail of clues of the evening’s indiscretions in her van — the tangle of jumper cables, the suspicious carpet stain in the payload, crumbled Ring-Ding wrappings, the deep claw marks. This man was doubtless cursed with demons.

And clearly, one of those demons materialized - how that mama bear found her way into the minivan was anyone’s guess. The previous occupant’s shenanigans culminated with a frantic free for all! Thank God no one got hurt.

And who would have guessed that a thousand pound grizzly bear would be so proficient at parallel parking a minivan ?

He was very happy to be down to a thousand pounds. He has been doing paleo and working out, to drop his weight from two thousand pounds. He is proud of his achievements, without that dedication he would have never been able to fit into the minivan.

But fit in the minivan he did. Cristobal the domesticated hippo was firmly strapped in beside his surrogate mother Connie and on their way to Six Flags for his third birthday when the memory of his real mother flashed before his eyes

She was a fat, lumpy vision of a hippo, with the biggest heart in the savannah. One minute she was wallowing in a mud flat; the next she was flat on her back, tranquilized by a team of animal control officers who considered her habit of snacking on wildlife photographers a crime!

She woke up in a twin bed in a familiar yet depressing room. The walls were beige and the art was nondescript. Her hippo body felt different, and she looked down to find hairy human legs. She rolled over in bed to read the stationery sitting beside her: “The Lazarus Motel.”

A Hippo Happening

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Sean King

Ask any kid in town and they’ll tell you McDougall Mansion is the spookiest house in the neighborhood. They’ll also tell you that all its original inhabitants perished mere weeks after moving in, having drowned, allegedly, in a boating accident on the pond bordering the property.

Each year, on All Hallows Eve, neighbors would report screams and mysterious activity. Often times one would see shadows where they do not belong, or watery foot prints on the wooden floors. All this was news to the Smiths, the latest home buyers.

But one Sunday morning little Katie Smith stepped out of bed and her little bare feet tip-tapped on the creaky wooden floor. She was careful to not wake her parents. She went to wake up her brother, but instead of finding him in bed, she discovered a surly raccoon in his place.

A squeaky voice emerged from the bassinet. “Don’t be afraid, Katie. It’s me, Louis.” Katie jumped back with alarm. A talking raccoon? What happened to her baby brother? This creepy old house was to blame, she was sure of it.

To Katie’s surprise, the creepy old house was NOT to blame. The voices were literally in her head, for she hadn’t slept in 48 hours. She was busy researching her old Highland Park High School classmates on LinkedIn, letting out a scoff of superiority at every bartender she saw.

Katie’s graphic design career gave her the freedom to attend a bar without working there but her current client angst has kept her up for two days now - that and the nonstop activity of her McDougall Mansion co-inhabitants

Katie has been up for 2 days because every time she closed her eyes she would see the McDougall Mansion apparition. She was a scientific woman, however the haunted mansion occupied her mind. Was it a demon? Ghost? Spirit? Aliens? There was only one way to find out...

Immediately Katie hit the interwebs to suss out Fact vs Fiction. A series of QAnon forums seemed to put it all into focus. It would seem the apparition was nothing more than a deep state surveillance bot meant to suppress freedom of thought. Or was it?

It was. Comforted, Katie snapped her laptop shut and climbed into bed. Her eyes fluttered as she fell into a deep slumber. Outside, in the depths of the night, the raccoons were watching and waiting. They were hungry.

And while Katie dreamt of Dove bars and rainbow unicorns, the dozen intermittently-fasting carnivorous nocturnals conspired to break their morning fast in an unseemly, yes grisly, way. But as day breaks, she backs her SUV out the driveway and reduces them to furry pancakes.

Raccoon Lagoon

The crew set down their bikes and slowly inched toward the fence, each kid wanting to be furthest behind. Once close enough, what they saw was exactly what they were expecting. Tied to the fence was a doll, the size of a toddler, with a grimacing pumpkin in place of its head.

The crew recoiled in shock and horror at this hideous Halloween-themed nightmare with its bulbous pumpkin head and all—then things worsened as they glanced to its ill-formed extremities. I’ll spare you the details but let’s just say at least three of them needed fresh underwear.

On the way to the car, where they keep their spare underpants, they couldn’t help but feel as though the creature’s eyes were still upon them. Daring them to look back. Marvin instinctively turned around and screamed. His body tensed and grew hairier than it had ever been.

At first, Marvin's hair follicles simply proliferated to parts of his body that had previously been bare. But once uniform coverage took place, the color changed from brown to vibrant polychrome. At once, the predator, with fear in their eye, retreated meekly into the shadows.

The predator, a once proud and brave, was now having a receding of his hairline and now he truly was bald eagle. He was mesmerized and felt vulnerable when he saw the beautiful locks on Marvins body. Does he shampoo? Condition? Both? So many questions ran through his head...

Meanwhile, Marvin was paying no attention whatsoever to the forlorn, balding figure admiring his plumage from afar. He was too busy worrying about his own insecurities, foremost among which was his bizarre fixation on his inability to lay an egg. Oh, how he wanted to lay an egg!

Marvin, unlike his famous father Horton, couldn't lay an egg but Esmerelda, the aforementioned forlorn, balding figure, was to become his savior. Together, the two lovesick Emu's were about to lay, not one egg, but twelve!

12 emu chicks. Infinite possibilities. What would this new life look like for them?

Before they could embark on this new journey, they looked back to survey what remained of their old life: a chicken carcass, a shoe, some half eaten tuna salad — just as one would expect from reading this story. As they were about to turn away, a glimmer caught their eye.

A silvery fish removed itself from a nearby stream and was scooting its way toward the pair. “You wouldn’t leave without a dip first, no?” So, the couple, seeing no alternative, followed this curious fish back to its home, and joined him in the watery depths.

Shorn of Plenty

Brad Koehn

Nathan Bilancio

Tabitha silenced her alarm for the 10th time, flopped out of bed, and shuffled to the bathroom. She squinted, rubbed the sleep from her eyes, and turned on the faucet. Splashing water on her face she gazed into the mirror. She stopped cold in shock. Her reflection wasn’t there.

Instead she found herself staring at the face of a bison. Strong, proud and very very hairy. So this is my future, she thought. Tabitha thought back on the fortune she was told years ago. She heard a knock on the bathroom door.

Tabitha reached out to touch the majestic creature only to have her hand collide abruptly with the mirror. What was real anymore? She turned around and opened the door behind her with a crazed look in her eyes. “Did you see it?” she asked the shadowy figure. “Yes,” it replied.

She stepped through the dark passage to join her shadowy-figured friend. They joined hands and walked solemnly toward the front door. She’d forgotten her night vision goggles in the car and they’d need them for their next excursion.

But she didn’t need the goggles. Her vision was excellent. She could see the small fairies in the distance, dancing and spinning in the air, giggling in their typical high pitched sounds.

She had found them. After everything she had been told, years of searching, and traveling far and wide. She could finally ask the fairies the ultimate question to life, the universe... everything. She couldn't wait to hear the answer which would surely be illuminating.

What am I?

Olivia Parsley

The forest was fragrant in that woody, musky way that reminded him of his childhood. It had been years since he last visited the cabin. He rustled through his pocket to find the keys. August 1999. The summer he earned his least favorite nickname.

He briskly walked to the cabin. Passing through some old and noticeably crooked trees, he began to reminisce about that dreadful summer. That specific year was definitely something to remember. “Jaded Jack” they had named him.

By the time he arrived at the cabin it was dusk and its windows glowed with orange light. Jack slowly opened the creaky screen door and stepped over the doormat with a menacing skull and crossbones. Far in the distance a wolf howled.

He was hit with the musty stench of neglect as he entered the dark.

But what else was an abandoned sea shack supposed to smell like? The salty, putrid smell of washed up crustaceans overwhelmed him. But they also reminded him of home.

And so he pulled up a chair to the dinner table, and dug in. He ate all the crabs and lobster and fish on the table, bones and shells and all.

Unexpectedly lavish

Mildred rolled over in bed just enough to read the digital alarm clock sitting on her nightstand. When she saw how late it was she slowly rolled to her other side and began putting on a fluffy pair of slippers adorned with goat heads. The bed groaned under her significant weight.

With her feet well-slippered, Mildred shuffled her large figure into the bathroom, where she began her morning routine. She pulled out her face paints, and got to work.

She applied her emerald eye shadow with a heavy hand. It was the look she preferred. ‘Battle paint’ she thought, as she got up and walked to the closet. Mildred was not a slight woman, finding the right outfit each day gave her agita. Not today, she thought, with a smile.

In one swift movement, she picked up the furry costume and heaved it over her body. She glanced back to the mirror, proud of what she had become and almost too excited to look. Finally Mildred felt free. Free to leave her human body and assume that of her true self: ALF.

It was a hot and muggy June afternoon, perhaps not the best timing to be riding a bike wearing an ALF costume, but that was no matter. She had a job interview to make, and this was not one she was going to screw up.

ALF costume was a terrible choice in hot and muggy Mississippi heat. She had drops of sweat dripping from her brow and upper lip. She could taste it, but she could also taste the job. It was victorious triumph that she was after... if only her boss was ok with sweaty employees.

Being the Extraterrestrial Mascot of the Mississippi Melmacs was a dream come true! The much maligned sweat came with the territory. She was ready to show everyone her true talents. Ready or not - it was her chance to take center stage.

There was just one little problem: the costume didn't fit. The tentacles engulfed her limbs; the antennae flopped comically into her eyes. Every time she tried to launch into the signature Melmac Shuffle, she found herself careening head over heels -- antennae over tentacles.

But all was not lost. Her baby sister Kelsey was in the audience, enrapt by the mysterious movements of her big sister, following along with her own smaller limbs in the darkness of the auditorium and its plush, oversized seats. In time, she would become a dancer herself.

Fast forward 10 years—in that very same theater—Kelsey stands astride the proscenium, awaiting her entry cue. She rearranges her fur boa, adjusts her skimpy bodice and begins swaying to the music’s rhythm. Now, the scantily clad chorus line parts for Kelsey’s maiden performance.

Dressed to Impress

Jared woke to the gentle sound of soft thuds on his roof. He stumbled out of bed, roused his cat Jinkies, and went to look out from his kitchen to see where the noise could be coming from. Before he could open his window a pineapple came shooting towards him.

A shocked Jared followed the line of trajectory to his driveway. An unruly Jinkies squinted at the perpetrators. Unbeknownst to Jared, Jinkies had begun a violent vendetta with the Amazon Prime delivery men. Clearly, they'd taken things to the next level. The cat was prepared.

But little did jinkies know that the delivery man, mortally allergic to felines of all stripes, had barbiturate-laden Fancy Feast at the ready. Removing the tin container from his pocket and placing it before the heretofore frenzied feline, a calm descended over Jinkies’ manner.

As the spiked food took effect, Jinxies experienced hallucinations. Being a cat it mostly involved prancing through fields of catnip and a lengthy milk bath. When he awoke the delivery man was gone and left behind a gift box. It had a tag that said “open me at midnight.”

He should have known that opening the package at midnight would be opening up a whole can of worms. Literally. The can of worms was rusty and appeared decades old, and yet the worms were alive and well, and squirmed their way out of the can, up the staircase to the bedroom.

In the bedrooms bathroom an old man decided to take a bath, he had a long day. As he was dozing off, he felt something wiggle around his toes. He didn’t realize what it was, but he was lonely and he welcomes the contact, whether it’s human or an annelida.

Clearly dozing in the tub can create a real tragedy, so the old man was very thankful that his grandson’s Sea serpent was still floating towards the drain - another minute of slumber could have cost him his life

With seconds to spare, he plucked Cecil from his spiraling path down the house sewer. The traumatized sea animal looked up gratefully at the old man and the message was clear: “don’t ever again force me to play with your abusive ill-tempered grandchildren”

Pineapple of My Eye

Ben Syverson

Everyone piled into the car and took out their personal items. Seat buckles clicked. Snacks crinkled. A destination was set: Door County. An epic trip began unceremoniously.

The smell of cherries signaled their arrival. Door County has a way of making each trip feel like your first. The children piled out of the car.

But it looked like in child was missing. Where once had been a gaggle of babies was now only a trio with no trace of Icarus but melted fudge in the cup holder.

The fudge oozed out of the cup holder, small feathers on top like sprinkles on a sundae. Icarus was nowhere to be seen. The air was filled with an eery smoky scent. It was clear who was to blame. Madame Le Blazé.

She was the kind of woman who inspired fear — among hardened criminals sentenced to life. And this Madam knew her way around the kitchen. Her culinary skills were renown for bringing a man to their knees, writhing in pain.

But little did they know that she was hiding a dark secret. After cooking her elaborate dinners, she would take the leftovers up to her bathroom and fill the tub with all sorts of half eaten foods and meats, and bathe for hours, inhaling their intense aromas

Once done with her food pleasure bath, she put on her best outfit- dress, floppy hat, and cowboy boots to go out into town. However, the elaborate dinner was poisoned! She started having explosive diarrhea...and she pondered who would do this to her.

Her husband? Her children? Her co-workers? Needless to say - none of these options gave her any pleasure. Next step? Conceal the mischief done to her body and emerge the victor - adding a pink boa and a sparkling diamond tiara to that same favorite outfit!

A Baby and Some Bath Water

In the end the reports were wrong; the storm had been devastating. There wasn’t a wall standing of Green Lake Elementary. The children were safe but exposed. 

After assessing the damage, it was collectively decided that the best thing would be to move on. With nothing but the clothes they arrived at school wearing that morning, the children moved towards the woods. 

The hot dog eating contest was a bad idea. And as we all know there are no bathrooms in forests. So the children braced themselves and entered the woods. 

You can tell a lot about a person by how they follow expiration dates. When they bend the rules, when they break them. All it takes is one bad experience to re-calibrate. After tonight there wasn’t a soul at Green Lake who wouldn’t carefully read the packaging of a Hebrew National
weiner.

And yet what are hot dogs if not the perfect expression of breaking the rules? All the wrong animals parts from all the wrong places, and yet it works. Perhaps one expired link couldn't hurt after all.

And she gobbled it up in one sitting with just a coat of ketchup. But little did she know Aunt Betsy was right around the corner, waiting for the perfect moment to take her revenge

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