4-1-17 Nixies

Heya, SEG-ers! It's Stephanie again. Uncle Mort said I can go anywhere this week so I’m going to Germany. Over in Germany they have these faeries that live in water called Nixies. As soon as my plane touched down in Frankfurt I raced for my hotel room, filled up the bathtub and waited. I waited a long time. I left out a trail of Swedish Fish from the parking lot to my room; I figured that would lure them in. They’re shaped like fish, right? So maybe they'll feel more at home? And who doesn’t love Swedish Fish? I wondered after a while in the tub if maybe they were shy, so I figured if I left the room for a while they might feel safer. So I went out for dinner. Dinner was okay. They call everything different names over here so I had to order by the pictures in the menu.

When I got back to the hotel room I heard scratching inside the bathroom door. It was closed, but I definitely would have left the door open for the Nixies. Maybe they were modest. I crept to the door because I didn’t want to startle them. I peeked in and saw the cutest, fattest, fluffiest Nixies ever. I didn’t know Nixies had tails, but you learn things in this profession. I threw open the door and greeted them to the world of menfolk. They made these little squeaking noises and ran to greet me. They jumped on me and their little claws sure were sharp. Nixies have strange greeting rituals. Kinda painful.

A man from the next room heard that the Nixies had arrived and so he ran in. I thought he was there to say hello, but he started batting at the Nixies with a fly swatter. Maybe it’s part of the Nixie greeting ritual? They all jumped on him. He ran from the room with them and down the hall. I go through all that work and he steals my quality Nixie time. Anyway, about an hour later, German police arrive and tell me that they ( the Nixies) were raccoons and that I should go to the emergency room and get checked for rabies, as if faeries carried gross diseases.

4-8-17 Baba Yaga

Heya SEG-ers! This week I’m heading to Eastern Europe. And NOT because I got blackout drunk in a bar in New Jersey and came to with someone else’s blood on me in the back of an organ harvesters van outside of Prague. I’m going because I’m looking for a grandmom. A legendary grandmom who lives in Russia named Baba Yaga. ‘Baba’ means ‘grandmom’ so you know this is going to be a great time, right?

Well, I know old people do weird things but this lady makes me miss my one racist grandmom whose house smelled like powder and mildew and had wall to wall carpeting in the kitchen and bathrooms. It was weird; she had furry toilet seat covers. Anyway, I get to Russia and I find out she lives way out in the forest. This is where I would normally just go home, but I felt bad about a grandmom living all by herself in the woods. So I said to myself, “Stephanie, today is the day you overcome your crippling fear of trees.” And off I went.

When I get to Baba Yaga’s house, it’s like spinning around on chicken legs and shrieking. I wouldn’t go near it because the fence around it had real skulls on it and that’s gross. I wouldn’t dissect the fetal pig in science class, so I’m certainly not going near somebody’s skull. Before long this tall bony lady is rowing herself across the grass in a barrel. I felt really bad. When old people go crazy it’s really hard to deal with. She said she was Baba Yaga and I asked her what’s the deal with her house. She told me she forgot the magic words and now she can’t get it stop. Then she said she was looking to sell and was I interested? I asked if she was taking the skulls and the chicken legs with her. She said she’d take the skulls, but the chicken legs were part of the house. No thanks Baba, I’m vegan. My grandmom is way better.

4-15-17 Djinni

Hi, SEG-ers, it’s Stephanie back with another page five ghoul and this week I’m going to the desert. First of all, no trees! Second, I’m here to have some wishes granted. How am I going to do that? I’m going to find a genie, that’s how. Did you know genie is also spelled ‘djinni’? Though I don’t see why anyone would want to. And I might be in the Middle East, but I’m pretty sure I’m far from anything that could explode. In fact, I don’t see much of anything at all. But this is where the man in the airport that wouldn’t stop snickering told me to go.

As far out as I am, it looks like there are other people out here looking for genies too. I found a set of footprints. I figure maybe they knew where they were going so I followed. At some point the person must’ve found a friend because then there were two sets of footprints and then three and so on. A lot of people are out here, so I must be on the right track.

Well, SEG’ers, I followed those footprints forever and didn’t see a single genie and it started to get dark. I was pretty bummed because I didn’t really know which way was back. I had figured I’d use one of my three wishes to get out of here. But just when things started to get super creepy a man came along. He was on fire but didn’t seem to mind. He asked me why I was in his scorpion nursery. When I told him I was looking for a genie he told me he was one. Success! I told him my three wishes and then he said he’d grant them for $40. That and my phone. I told him it wasn’t getting service out there but he had some kind of hack that let him play Hearthstone offline. Forty dollars was all I had, but I could just wish for money, right? Couldn’t he just wish himself money? Anyway, I gave it to him. He said the first wish he’d grant was to get me out his desert and then the other two when I got back to civilization. I closed my eyes like he told and when I opened them I was on a busy city street. That was a few days ago. And the wishes didn’t come true and he’s got my money and phone.

I thought this column could have been about more than just creepy things, but it turns out the world is just full of creepy things.

Everything has something it wants to pull on you, or get from you, or else it’s just crazy and doesn’t know what it wants or what it’s doing. So I’m going to do what my older sister Kaden did when dad bought her the wrong model Mercedes for her birthday and run away to India. Maybe that’s where the nice things are. After all, she hasn’t been heard from since.

4-22-17 India

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

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

Uncle 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 and 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 Uncle 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 downtown.

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.