Page Five Ghouls

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The Grassman Goeth

Byline: Gary Llewellyn

Dateline: June 24, 2017

I have to admit, when I heard about this week’s monster, I got pretty jazzed, but then it turned out to be some bigfoot-type shit living in Ohio. The government supposedly rounded up all the bigfoot and sent them to Mars to activate the pyramid and terraform the planet. They say it’s breathable up there now. All those pictures NASA feeds us from the Curiosity. That’s Arizona, man.

Goddamit, I’m out of smokes. How many did I smoke? I gotta get Stephanie hooked on smoking so she has cigs I can bum. So there’s some stragglers and this one made it to Ohio and stopped for some reason. Another poor bastard ended up in Pennsylvania. Why didn’t they go north? What the hell’s in Pennsylvania? But then, if he kept going and crossed the river he’d run into a devil. Nobody needs that. I speak from experience. Continue reading

Page Five Ghouls

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Vodyannoyed

Byline:  Gary Llewellyn

Dateline: June 17th, 2017

Hello again, gluttons for punishment. This week the Page Five Ghoul’s nonsensical itinerary has take us to Ukraine, but not the parts the Russians are currently trashing. Specifically a podunk hole in the ground called Nova Borov, about three hours into the wooded countryside outside of Kiev.

While the town’s name might be fun to say, they have themselves a bit of an unfun problem. A local, water dwelling creature known as a Vodyanoy, or in Ukrainian, Vodianyk. The thing looks a lot like my uncle Wallace, a fat, dumpy old man with a frog face. That’s right Wally, I’m talking shit about you in print. You still owe me $300 for breaking my glass dragon bong. Continue reading

Page Five Ghouls

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Tarasque and You Shall Recieve

Byline: Gary Llewellyn

Dateline: June 10, 2017

Hello, dear readers, and welcome to another Page Five Ghoul or Ghouls or whatever Mort is calling it now. After the setback in Scotland and week of hard travel we find ourselves in France. Why France? Because I needed to get my ass of that goddamn island and anywhere was damn sight better. So what kind of monsters does one look for in France? Well, we’re here to keep tabs on a legendary beast known as the Tarasque. A name that should be familiar to the strictly indoor, basement-dwelling among you if your DM happens to be a complete dick.

The model for this bane of role players everywhere is rooted in a beast that stalked the French countryside. Legend has it the beast was tamed by Saint Martha and brought back to the city of Nerluc, where the inhabitants lost their shit and killed the thing, at which point Saint Martha got all preachy with the Jesus stuff, everybody converted for some reason and renamed the town Tarascon. Really what happened was the tamed Tarasque was then employed to give rides to children at a petting zoo and the town renamed Tarascon to boost tourism, because a town with a tamed Tarasque in a petting zoo sounds pretty badass, but that story doesn’t make for a good legend. So, now we’re in the city of Tarascon to make sure this thing is still docile, mopey and entertaining children. If the Fae Folk ever got this thing on the payroll it would be like acquiring a nuke. Continue reading

Page Five Ghouls

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Under Loch and Quay

Byline: Gary Llewellyn

Dateline: June 3, 2017

This week, readers, we take you to Scotland, where we go in search of the fabled Loch Ness Monster. Not by choice, mind you. Nessie is such a hack subject. I normally have much better things to do than chase after some old-timey gynecologist’s toy submarine, but I’m scheduled for execution by drowning by the fairy king. Somewhere Freddie Mercury is smiling, or at least bemused. I was given a pill that is supposed to allow me to breathe underwater, but it just feels like I popped a fistful of yellowjackets. Me and Stephanie were led to a platform over a glass tank of water that would open up, drop us in, and close back up, locking us inside. Then we’d be flushed out into the loch where we were to be eaten by a drunkard’s legend.

“Any final words?” we were asked by the king.

“Oh Mother Mercury, look what they’ve done to me. I cannot run, I cannot hide,” I sang. I have a damn good voice, if I do say so myself.

“You think you’re funny?”

“Yeah.” Continue reading

Page Five Ghouls

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Daoine Sith Me Rabbit

 

Byline: Gary Llewellyn

Dateline: 5/20/17

Of course you can’t run from a Cu Sith. I was just trying to be supportive. They’re extra-dimensional beings. If you turn your back on one you’ll just see it sitting right in front of you. Just so nobody thinks I’m a complete monster, I doused myself in the pheromones as well. Stephanie had thrown the tracker away, so there weren’t many other options for getting into a Daoine Sith mound. I don’t remember much of the trip. I came to with a splitting headache and some angry-looking fairies hovering over me pointing spears in my face. It was definitely not the worst situation I’ve woken up in. And certainly not the first time I woke up with a pissed off monster waving a weapon in my face. I figured, by this point, they probably figured out Steph wasn’t pregnant and I wasn’t even a female of my species. Fairies are clever. What was a surprise is that I woke up at all.

Continue reading

Page Five Ghoul

I’m Sure There’s Something Horrible I can Find Out There

Alright, SEG readers. It’s Stephanie, here we go.

Mort said I can have my weird Mama Reesy Yogi Bear retreat, whatever that means, in India if file one more stupid Page Five Ghoul before I go.

So, here it is. I get to India and right away I meet a bunch of people who look like the kids from high school who smoked a lot of pot and listened to the Dave Matthew’s Band and they ask me if I want to go to Goa with them. Had no idea what that meant, but I figured, whatever, at least they speak English and my mom would hate these people, so I went. After a really crowded train ride- I mean really crowded,  there were people hanging off of everywhere, it was so hot and stupid in there. Anyway, we get there and they’re all like asking me if I want to party or whatever, and I’m live “What evs.” Maybe I’ll take some selfies and text them to my mom. Like, ‘hey mom, gonna tell me to go to nursing school, now?’ The party is okay. I mean the music is cool, but all the people are doing that dance where they’re waving their hands in their own faces, but not much else. So, this dude hands me a green pill and I’m like “Whatever,” and I take it and it tastes like an Aspirin, so- gross. But, O.M.G like an hour later I’m doing that stupid dance too and the music actually sounds good.

I think I blacked out because the next thing I know it’s like lunchtime and now we’re in this camp all wearing these ugly gray robes. And some grandpa is telling us if we work hard we can get extra rice or something. I’m thinking: ‘I came here because that stuff literally sucks.’ So then I’m like, ‘Done with this place,’ and get up to leave. The old guy starts telling me I can go if I want, but the demons are having a meeting in the woods. I’m like, ‘whatever, maybe I’ll tell Mort all about it.’
I get into the woods. I know it’s got trees and stuff in it, but at this point I literally don’t even care. Literally, right in front of me are these demons. They’re all drinking in the woods like the kids from school who wear denim literally all the time. And they’re listening to this song my aunt who’s like 53, unmarried and still wears cocktail dresses, always put on when she got drunk and swayed in front of a jukebox, at one in the morning, in this old man bar down town. Something like, ‘Sister Christian, oh the time has come.’ Anyway, there’s a regular guy in like cargo shorts and a golf shirt hanging out with them like it’s no big. Then I remember the picture Uncle Mort showed me before I left on my first assignment. It was Gary Llewellyn. The guy who wrote this article before me. I think maybe it’s time to go home.