LogFAQs > #969106770

Day 4: It's Halloween, so I suppose it's a good time to talk about fear. Yeah, I'm afraid Parappa won't return - that's a given let's move past it. I want to talk about real fears. Some real cut to the bone shit. Although one of my fears is that I'm afraid to open up about my fears, so this could prove very difficult, but I'll do my best.

It was a few Halloweens ago when I went to a party dressed as a doctor, since I already owned several pairs of scrubs. I just think they're comfortable and I like to wear them as jammies. This was pre-COVID when it was still funny to impersonate medical professionals, but I was a little scared someone would have a medical emergency in front of me.

The night was going fine until a pickup truck with a bed full of pumpkins parked out front. Three people dressed as elephants poured out of the cabin, but one of them was a slutty elephant because we live in hell and that was probably the only female option available. The slutty elephant sets up a monitor on the side of the bed while the others throw pumpkins onto the lawn.

Nobody had any idea who these people were.

The monitor starts playing a video of elephants at a local zoo squashing pumpkins with their feet, as the three human elephants start doing the same to the pumpkins strewn about the lawn. A sigh of relief washed over those who gathered outside. It seemed like a lot of effort for an admittedly subpar bit and we still didn't know these people, but what was happening made sense now.

At least it did until a fourth animal emerged from the truck. A person in a hippopotamus costume. The video on the monitor changed to a hippo and someone said, "Oh is the hippo gonna stomp on some now?" The costumed hippo stopped in the center of the lawn and tilted its head back. Each elephant had grabbed a fresh pumpkin and pointed to the monitor. On the screen, a real hippo opened its mouth, a zookeeper tossed a large pumpkin inside, and the hippo devoured it to the applause of the zoogoers.

"No, fuck no. No way," someone said. All attention turned back to the costumed hippo on the lawn, who had unhinged its jaw far wider than any human should be capable of while everyone was distracted. An elephant placed a pumpkin inside, the hippo's jaws clamped shut to the sound that resembled a fleshy gunshot. Pumpkin viscera sprayed over everyone as screams filled the air. The hippo opened its maw a second time and the slutty pumpkin reloaded. Its mouth snapped shut again, louder than the first time. Lights started turning on in every house on the street. A woman fainted into the nearby garden. "WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU?!" several shouted out in disbelief. "'Please just go!" I yelled in desperation.

After the third gourd was obliterated, I sat in the grass and sobbed into my hands. I had never felt so utterly despondent and I wasn't the only one. Many others were doing the same. Even those who came to the party with their partner instead chose to mourn alone. The hippo human hybrid has destroyed all the love in our lives and our will to seek comfort in each other. The owner of the house emerged with a loaded gun and demanded the hippo and elephants leave. They packed up their equipment and went on their way without a word.

The party was dead. When I called an Uber to take me home, someone noted I hadn't started drinking yet. "I may be sober, but I am in no state to drive," I replied.
"Somebody call an ambulance!" a man called out.
"I'm pretty shook up, but I don't need to go to the hospital," I said. But it wasn't for me. The girl who fainted into the garden had hit her heard on a rock.
"Is anyone a doctor?" the man called out.
Looking down at my scrubs, I slinked back around the corner of the house and hid until my Uber arrived.

Okay, I'm sorry. I said real fears. It's just hard for me to open up. Even on an anonymous dying message board. I'm afraid of fireworks? Really any loud, booming noises. It's not super deep, but it's something. It makes 4th of July with my family difficult because they always like to watch fireworks on the beach. This past summer my aunt asked me why I get so freaked out, but as you may have picked up on, I'm afraid to talk openly about my fears.

So I lied and said it stems from my years of military service and watching my fellow soldiers get blown to bits. Fortunately, it's still kosher to impersonate military personnel. Unfortunately, there are couple marines in my family that actually happened to and I was yelled at for being insensitive. After every firework went off, I instinctively yelped like a frightened child, still clinging to my offensive wartime PTSD bit. But what could I do? Admit the real reason I was afraid of loud noises was because I watched a person dressed as a hippopotamus blow out every car window on the street with it's thundering orifice of rampant annihilation?

At that moment three elephants (two normal, one slutty) and a hippopotamus strode onto the beach holding three watermelons. When the beach was painted red, my family understood.

Shit. Fuck, I'm sorry. I'm sorry! The real shit. It's coming, I swear it's coming. My actual human fears. I just need to warm up to it. I'm afraid of wild animals. That's a real fear I have.

If you're thinking, "this is a clear ramp up to another elephant/hippo bit," you're right. Good catch. I'm afraid of comedy that doesn't come in threes. To overcome that, I could do this bit four times but I don't think I have the character space for that. I'd have to split this up into two posts and I said I'd post once a day. That'd fuck this whole thing up on Day 4.

I'm not really all that deep. I wish I had more interesting fears, but I don't. I'm not afraid that I don't have dope fears, that usually indicates some kind of trauma that I'm thankful isn't mine. I have a friend who is afraid of ladybugs. God, I bet I could riff about that for a while if that were me. I don't know. I'm afraid I'm not good enough, but everyone is sometimes. I used to be afraid people I loved didn't actually want to be around me, but I got over that. Everybody's got people that love 'em. I guess I'm afraid of dying, because I don't want to leave those people. I used to be afraid of dying a lot more. A quote from Outer Wilds really helped me. "The past is past now, but that's... y'know that's okay. It's never really gone completely. The future is always built on the past, even if we won't get to see it." We all die, and that's just the way it's supposed to be. I guess the fear I still have stems from my fear of the unknown. What comes after? What if I'm just trapped in a conscious mind, unable to move? I just sit in inky blackness for the rest of eternity with nothing but my own thoughts to keep me company?

Maybe that's not what happens. Maybe it's just over. I don't know. Not knowing is what drives me crazy. Maybe I take my final breath, close my eyes for the final time, and my heart monitor goes silent. Then when I open my eyes, I'm somewhere else. Not in a hospital bed or wherever I spent my final days, but in an endless void. Just me, three elephants, and a hippopotamus. And oh boy that fucker is hungry. There's an endless sea of large gourds and