Aunt Visit
by Jeff Chapman

I'd forgotten about my aunt's visit, so my room was a mess. My aunt stared at the mess and pointed out things she particularly disapproved of, like the rotting poultry hanging on wires from my ceiling, which I always thought was both original and kinda cool, and of course she started complaining about the hardened black blood all over the walls and the ceiling.

She rumaged through my old rags, ignoring my protests, and found the corpse of my eleven year old sister. She didn't even have to piece it all together to realize who it was, and then she got all upset and went on and on about how I should've told my mom when she had been looking for my sister with the police for the past couple of years. She didn't believe me that it had slipped my mind.

Before I could stop her, mainly because I was still wearing my headphones, she opened up the closet door and found all those corpses left over from my weekend down south, and the plates and cutlery and so on. A few pictures of me and my friends eating a little human flesh was all it took to get her started about how we were all a bunch of cannibals and on and on and on...

Somehow while she was rumaging around in my closet she found the secret gate and managed to push it open. I took off my headphones and turned off my tape and wandered over to the closet before she went into the temple, but I was too late, and I got there just in time to see her getting all worked up about the blood and lava pits and the huge columns of black granite and the inverted pentagrams everywhere and the occasional naked virgins strapped to the walls screaming. I told her not to worry about it, that it was just nothing, but in her typically adult way she turned around and started labelling me a satanist. I started saying she had no proof that I am even involved with that stuff in my closet and how she's jumping to conclusions and next thing you know she'll think I'm gay because I don't have a girlfriend, and she went "oh so what about that mask" really arrogant and all, so I took off the large black devil mask with two foot-long goat horns painted with blood sticking out of the top and just yelled "fine if it bothers you so much I'll take it off". Then she told me not to use that tone so I shut up.

I went over to my bed and pushed a few mangled bodies out of the way so I could lie down and I just put on my headphones and turned up the volume to full while she finished her lecturing and slammed the door behind her, like she always does. I don't really show it so much now that I'm a teenager, but I love my aunt.

c. 1998, Jeff Chapman.
From YIP (A Magazine of Humourous Nonsense). (Republished with permission.)
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