Children’s Books of the Damned part 2

I’ve decided to post some new “Children’s Books of the Damned.” That’s what people always end up calling them. Or they call them “What the hell” or “You’re an evil evil man.” Despite that, I feel they are perfectly sweet little stories and children everywhere will learn wonderful life lessons from these tales.











The first book is called Cloud, the happy unicorn who was eviscerated and turned inside out. It’s a bit tragic, but I feel that a good way to introduce children to the concept of death is through a happy prancing unicorn that gets mauled by several angry ogres.












Baby’s First Bender is a cautionary tale about the dangers of allowing infants to imbibe in alcohol. Read this to your little cherub and they’ll think twice about crawling over to the liquor cabinet or outdoor beer cooler.











Persistent Vegetative State – A choose your path book was my attempt at creating those interactive adventures I used to read as a kid. But I didn’t really want to bother with all the complicated paths involved in such a story, so I created a plot that would have a minimal amount of actual choices.











I Saw Mommy Killing Santa Claus is my attempt to create a murder mystery for young readers. There is a severe lack of murder mysteries for the under ten age group.











No, you can’t be a tiger when you grow up… you little moron is based on a story my mother used to tell me and my sister when we were kids. It’s a sad tale of face paint and the hard realities of a four year old’s future non-tiger career choices.


See? My children’s books aren’t that bad. They’re enchanting tales that will give children lots of of dreams for years to come.





Donny Dead – A Cautionary Tale for Children Everywhere #2

A while back I created a children’s book called Donny Dead – A Cautionary Tale for Children Everywhere. I believe in its message of shark avoidance and guillotine safety so much that I’ve expanded on it and turned it into a YouTube video.

Do your children run out into the street, while waving scissors and eating random pills they found in the medicine cabinet? Maybe this film will knock some sense into them, or at least make them terrified of elephants.

Children’s Books of the Damned

I decided to try to write some children’s books, but it didn’t turn out so well. Someone actually called them “Children’s books of the damned.” I don’t know why, though. They’re perfectly reasonable stories. Here’s a few of them for you to decide.


This first one was my try at an epic fantasy war story for the under one crowd. I wanted to inspire youngsters to know that just because they couldn’t walk yet, didn’t mean they couldn’t be a part of protecting their home from invading orks. Even children can be heroes.


This one was my attempt to talk to kids about death. I think it turned out quite well, actually.


Superman capes really do make you fly. I saw it in a comic once. They’ve never worked for me, but that’s probably because I haven’t tried hard enough.


This is a fun story about a cat who travels to magical worlds after a fun ride in the dryer. Kids love dryers and they love cats, so I put the two together.


This a cautionary tale to make sure kids don’t overuse the toilet and strain themselves. I guarantee that you’ll only have to read them Toothy once and they’ll never make unnecessary trips to the bathroom again.


Kids will learn to cook with Stabby’s playful antics. They may even decide to cook on their own and give you a break!


This one is a little different from the others. It’s a story my mother used to tell me. I’ve faithfully reproduced her words so other children can enjoy her sweet tale.


So, what do you think? Are these really “books of the damned” or do I have something here?



Eat All Your Veggies – Or Else

Here’s a tale I wrote, to encourage kids to listen to their parents and eat their dinner.

Eat All Your Veggies – Or Else

One day, in the blinding snow, I saw a girl, who dressed like a ho. She smelled like a rose and looked quite the dish, but she claimed to be a genie and offered me a wish. I wished for a burger, I wished for some fries, but all I got were a stinking pack of lies. The burger was salmon and the fries were carrot sticks. I’d been had by a health genie’s tricks.

Her face became a grandma’s and her clothes grew ten sizes too big, while her hair curled up into a bluish-white wig. She smiled and stepped forward, holding a tray, while I stepped far… far far away. The tray was filled with broccoli both wilted and like new, all the bits of broccoli I ever refused to chew.

“Eat your veggies and you can go out and play,” I heard the woman say. “Growing boys need good food, to help with their day.”

I shook my head and closed my mouth, but it was all for naught. I had forgotten just how hard old ladies fought. She forced me to the ground and made me eat my fill, of veggies and salmon and a vitamin pill.

After I could eat no more, she made me eat again, until I begged for mercy for this health nightmare to end.

In the blink of an eye, she and her food were gone, leaving me a wreck, just another clean plate pawn. So, if you ever balk at your parent’s food commands, remember this children, health genies roam the land.

Donny Dead – A Cautionary Tale for Children Everywhere

I’ve decided to write and illustrate a small children’s book about the dangers kids might face in the world. It’s called:

Donny Dead – A Cautionary Tale for Children Everywhere


This is Donny Dead.

This is Donny Dead bleeding into the ocean while being surrounded by sharks.

This is Donny Dead playing with a guillotine.

This is Donny Dead sticking his head in a blender.

This is Donny Dead being eaten alive by fire ants.

The End.

The Undead Duckling – A Tale For The Depraved Kid at Heart

Here’s another tale for the depraved kid at heart.

The Undead Duckling

Andy wasn’t like other ducklings. All his brothers and sisters had fuzzy brown feathers and cute little peeping voices. The only sound Andy could make was a growling moan and his feathers drooped over bits of dried muscle and flesh, that seemed to rot away with each passing day.

He just didn’t fit in. While the other ducklings ate worms and bits of grass, Andy preferred the dead bits of ducklings remains left over from Mr. Eagle’s meals. He especially liked any bits of brain he could get his beak on.

In fact the only word he managed to learn to say was brains.When asked what he wanted to do, he moaned, “Brains.” When asked how he was feeling, he moaned, “Brains.” When asked what he wanted to eat, he moaned, “Brains.”

The other ducklings treated Andy with fear and contempt, even when he tried to play water polo with him. “Go away freak,” they’d say, shoving him under the water as they sped away. It wasn’t his fault that pieces of his body fell off and got stuck all over their ball.

Even his parents feared Andy, even though they tried their best to include him in their daily treks around the pond and nuzzle him at night. But Andy’s rotting body, his desire for the flesh of his deceased siblings and the fact that he responded to everything with “Brains” caused them to tremble any time they were near him.

One day, Andy decided to run away from home. He moved to the other side of the pond and hid among the reeds, hunting the ducklings that lived there. Andy figured that since they weren’t part of his family, there really wasn’t anything wrong with it. Besides, those highfaluting north ponders had it coming.

This went on for a while and Andy grew strong enough to move to hunting adult ducks. The more he ate, the less his body seemed to rot and the sharper his mind became, even though he could still only speak one word.

But Andy was tired of hiding. He didn’t want to spend his whole life cowering in the weeds like some rat, scurrying out only to feed. So, he stepped out of the reeds and strode purposefully towards the water’s edge, ignoring the screams of the ducks around him.

He peered down into the water and saw a large adult duck before him, with blood dappled feathers and exposed muscles dried like wads of paper. Andy smiled to himself. It didn’t matter that he was different than the other ducks or what they thought of him. He was an elite member of the undead and could kill them all.

“Brains,” he said softly and headed out into the pond to surprise his family.



The Genie of the Lunchbox – A tale for the depraved kid at heart

This is a tale my mother told me, after I asked her what would happen if I found a magical genie.

The Genie of the Lunchbox

On a cold winter’s day, in a quiet suburb in a nondescript town, lived a little boy named Carlos. Well, actually, he wasn’t that little and he wasn’t a boy. He was a thirty eight year old man who collected plastic lunchboxes and read comic books. But boy sounds better, so we’re going to stick with that.

Carlos collected all sorts of lunchboxes, from Micky Mouse to Rainbow Brite, but his favorite lunchboxes were the ones with superheroes printed on them. He had Superman, Batman, even Capeman, a cheap generic knockoff superhero lunchbox he bought at a swap meet.

He kept all his lunchboxes on shelves in his living room and would sit on the floor, carefully polishing each and every one of them with a silk handkerchief. One day, he brought home a new lunchbox, with a strange superhero he had never heard of called Genieman.

Genieman looked like a tan bodybuilder in fancy Arabian clothing, while sitting under a tree and reading an old copy of People. The image almost seemed to move and Carlos swore he saw the figure turn the page of the magazine. He shrugged it off and pulled out his handkerchief, then started to polish the picture, carefully rubbing away dust particles and old bits of children’s lunch.

The lunchbox started to glow and Genieman popped from the picture like a 3D movie, growing in size until he nearly reached the ceiling. He looked down at Carlos and sighed.

“Why have you summoned me? I mean really, I was just sitting down, minding my own business and I get summoned by some dork -” He took a look around. “With a lunchbox collection. I knew I should have opted for a lamp.”

Carlos stood up and gawked at the genie, grinning more than the time he found a rare Aquaman lunchbox. “I’ve never net a real genie before. This is awesome! I have so many wishes! First, I want a million dollars. No wait, unlimited money. And a girl! One who can only agree with me!”

The genie laughed. “It still surprises me that you mortals think that one of the most powerful beings in the world has nothing better to do than grant wishes.”

“But…” Carlos blinked. “Isn’t that what Genies do?”

“No,” Genieman said. “We do what we want, when we want. The only reason we allow ourselves to be summoned is to find mortals who will be good servants, to live forever as our butlers, being repaid for their service with wine, women and luxury.”

Carlos’ eyes lit up.

“Sorry,” Genieman said. “You’re… Well, you’re not genie servant material. It’s nothing personal, it’s just my standards are pretty high. Maybe you could apprentice to an imp or something. I hear they offer dental.”

With that, the genie disappeared, along with the lunchbox in Carlos’ hands. He sighed and pulled down a monster truck lunch box and started to polish it, but nothing popped out, not even a hubcap.

Moral: If you’re lucky enough to meet a genie, he’ll probably think you’re too lame to be of use.

I just love Mother’s stories. They taught me so much and fill my heart with warm fuzzy feelings whenever I think of them.

The Fairy of the Clearing – A tale for the depraved kid at heart

This tale will warm your hearts, as long as you put them on the stove while reading.

The Fairy of the Clearing

Once upon a time, a young man started out to make his way in the world. He took only that which he could carry, which was a stupid idea to begin with, but made even more stupid by the fact that he only took cans of microwavable ravioli and an old mix tape of classical tunes played by saw. He also seemed to be under the delusion that making your way in the world meant heading off into a deep dark forest and not doing something useful like applying to college or marrying a rich home pregnancy test heiress.

So, the man walked into a local forest, with his tote bag filled with useless junk and hope for a brighter future in his heart. After a few hours of wandering, he grew hungry and snacked on cold processed pasta, while staring at his cassette and wishing he’d remembered to bring a way to play it. Nothing was working out the way he had hoped. The forest didn’t have cable, he couldn’t find any treasure chests filled with his retirement fund and all the forest animals stared at him with beady little eyes, as if waiting for him to drop dead from exposure.

He had almost decided to head back to town and admit defeat, when he caught sight of a clearing just past the trees, glowing with light that spilled out into the forest floor like liquid gold. The man blinked and stepped forward, propelled by his legs, since walking on one’s hands usually didn’t get the job done properly.

The glow originated from a tall woman, clothed in gold silk and winged like a firefly. She held out a hand, palm up and beckoned him closer. The man grinned and stepped forward. He was about to offer up his best pick up line, when she spoke.

“Greetings human,” the woman said, her voice as golden as the rest of her. “I am here to grant you power and pleasure beyond your wildest dreams. All I ask in return is a small favor.”

“What favor, lady of the forest?” The man placed his hand in hers and felt a gentle warmth, like a summer’s breeze, tickle his fingers.

“I want your flesh,” the woman said, in the same golden voice. “It has been a while since I fed and I would be ever so grateful if you granted me permission to sup on your skin.”

The man let go of the woman’s hand. “Lady, I may be into a lot of things, but that’s not one of them.”

“I implore you to reconsider,” the woman said. “Skin grafts are really advanced these days. You won’t even miss it.”

The man thought for a moment and decided that he was really attached to his skin and didn’t want to give it up, no matter what the freaky gold insect winged lady promised him.

“I’m sorry, I’m going to have to say no.”

The woman sighed and grabbed a squirrel from a lone tree. She skinned it in one deft pull of her slim fingers and dropped the body to the ground. “I guess it’s damn squirrel again tonight. Thanks a lot, bozo.”

The man shook his head and walked out of the clearing, through the forest and back to civilization. He headed to the local community college to sign up for a course on computer repair, where he met a rich heiress of a home pregnancy test empire. She wanted nothing to do with him, so he settled for the course.

The Princess and the Booze – A tale for the depraved kid at heart

Here’s a bedtime story my mother used to tell me and my sister. It’s about a princess who grows bored with her life.

The Princess and the Booze

Once upon the time, there was a princess named Sparkle Sweetness Golden Sunshine, who hated her kingdom. She thought all her subjects were boring, even after she tortured them and made them live in dirt holes just outside her castle walls. She hated to admit it, but she was getting tired of being a tormenting dictator sitting all alone on a throne of skulls. She wanted more out of life, but she just didn’t know what.

She tried sewing, but she already had a closet full of cloaks made from the skin of peasants and really didn’t need more. She tried drawing, but the blood of her victims just didn’t seem as red as it used to be. She even tried skiing, but speeding down Bone Hill just made her yawn. Princess Sparkle Sweetness was bored.

“What can I do?” she asked her advisor, after she let him out of the dungeon for smiling out of turn.

“Ma’am,” he said, careful not to make any sudden movements or show any sign of emotion, “it appears that you have a case of the blahs. There’s only one surefire cure for the blahs.”

“What?” The princess grabbed his arm. “Tell me, or I’ll feed you to my pet cougar.”

“You have to practice the art of slutty party girl,” her advisor said. “You have to get drunk, go to a neighboring kingdom and strut your stuff at a seedy bar. After that, you’ll be recharged and ready to bring your kingdom to its knees.”

“Thank you,” Princess Sparkle Sweetness said. “I will put on my skimpiest dress and head to the kingdom of Blottoia.”

So, Princess Sparkle Sweetness Golden Sunshine, ruler of Eviltania and mistress of all that was dark, dressed in a short red dress, put on a pound of makeup and headed to Blottoia’s most seediest bar, The Puke Pit. She stepped in, ordered ten tequila sunrises, and danced the night away with anything that moved. After three days of booze, men and back alley meetings, the princess lured a few men home with her and chopped their bodies into tiny little pieces. Now refreshed and no longer bored, she used the pieces to stucco the outside of her castle and went back to terrorizing her people and sitting on her ever increasing throne of bone.

“Any time I feel bored, I’m going to get drunk and sleep around,” she told the skull of her advisor. “Thank you for wonderful advice.” She tossed the skull to her new advisor. “You better be as good as him, buddy.”

Moral: If you’re a sociopath princess and grow bored with your lot in life, beer and men will help you regain your bloodlust.

Tales for the Depraved Kid at Heart Videos

I’ve got the two children stories my mother wrote and I illustrated on Youtube now, narrated by the woman who controls my life. They’re wonderful and you should listen to them with little tykes in tow, as long as the tykes don’t mind decapitated bunnies and megalomaniac kittens destroying France.