The Curator of Schlock
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The Curator of Schlock #511: Heat
The dulcet tones of “Seventeen” by Winger punched the air as the jukebox slid to the left revealing a secret passage to the downtown Orlando sewer system. Edwige was the first to hop inside followed by the Revenging Manta and his brother the accountant. The Revenging Manta produced an LED lantern to light our way. Continue reading
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The Curator of Schlock #510: The Children
We had to get out of the Museum of Schlock without the Goose Lord and his gang spotting us otherwise Waldo was going to die. Unbeknownst to everyone but myself was a secret passage leading from the basement to the sewers. By selecting a certain song from a jukebox player in the corner, our escape Continue reading
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The Curator of Schlock #509: The Sacrifice Game
I dragged Waldo through the bloated fentanyl processing station of the Goose Lord’s gang, making my way over the elevator. My companions Edwige the kangaroo, the Revenging Manta, and his brother, Albert Simmons, followed close behind. While taking on the Goose Lord and his gang had been our main priority, we could not just let Continue reading
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The Curator of Schlock #508: Last Seen Alive
Waldo, my steadfast comrade in arms against the Goose Lord and his gang, was bleeding to death and I was in a panic. Edwige, my kangaroo companion from my misadventures in North America, slapped my face with her tail, knocking me to my senses. I lifted Waldo up over my shoulder and declared, “We’re getting Continue reading
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The Curator of Schlock #507: A Walk Among the Tombstones
As the Revenging Manta was reconciling with his brother, Albert Simmons, the accountant for the Goose Lord gang, I heard a howl coming from the far side of the room. Edwige, my kangaroo companion from my misadventures in North America, was in a panic over the slumped over body of Waldo. I had forgotten that Continue reading
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The Curator of Schlock #506: Hell House LLC II: The Abaddon Hotel
I wanted the Revenging Manta, the ninja vigilante of downtown Orlando, to cut this sniveling accountant named Albert Simmons down to size. Not figuratively cut down to size. Literally. I don’t do the whole murder thing, but I wanted justice after this man’s involvement in the sale of my Beanie Baby collection. But the Revenging Continue reading
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The Curator of Schlock #505: In a Violent Nature
“Sold!” I screamed, my fingers digging into the shoulders of Albert Simmons, the accountant for the Goose Lord gang. “I can’t replace those Beanie Babies. My whole life’s work ruined!” I grabbed Albert by the back of his neck and pushed him head first through the door. The Revenging Manta was cleaning his blade on Continue reading
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The Curator of Schlock #505: The Amityville Horror
I had a trout Beanie Baby named Rainbow. The prize jewell of my collection is now gone with the rest. All sold on eBay by the Goose Lord and his gang. I’m sorry. I can’t process the loss right now. Maybe I’ll work up the strength next time. — To be continued. Happy Halloween, everybody! Continue reading
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The Curator of Schlock #504: House
“Who are you?” I asked the pencil-necked geek hiding in what was formerly my Beanie Baby archive. “I’m Albert Simmons,” he said as he dabbed his sweaty forehead with a handkerchief. “I’m the accountant for the Gooselord and his gang.” “Where are my Beanie Babies?” I asked with clenched fists. “Did these hoodlums throw them Continue reading
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The Curator of Schlock #503: Shivers
I opened the door to my Beanie Baby storehouse. I reached out for the string that when yanked would give me 60 soft-glowing watts. The illuminated room revealed no Beanie Babies. Half a lifetime of investment down the drain. I was supposed to retire on those! I screamed and with that, a pencil-necked geek came Continue reading
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