For Lovers Only

Hey gang, welcome back.
Not too much set-up this time.
But I should say I had set a target date of Feb 10th to post this so it would have been slightly more timely, so please don’t hold it against me.

Much like the main character, I have always hated this “holiday”.
This is just my funny little way of showing it.

Without further ado, I hope you enjoy For Lovers Only…

I have never liked Valentine’s Day, even going back to when I was a kid.
Even back then, I could see that it was a greeting card manufactured celebration created solely to boost profits between Christmas and Easter.
I can’t tell you how many great relationships were ruined simply because of my intense dislike of this so called holiday.
Meet a great girl, have a few dates, form a decent bond, then she’d bring up V-Day and drop me like a dumpling into broth.

But my wife was different.
8 years ago when I met Emily, she got it.
She never agreed with my distaste for the day, but she accepted it and loved me anyway.
We came to an agreement before we took the plunge, that for my sake and sanity her sacrifice would be that we wouldn’t celebrate or even acknowledge the existence of Valentine’s Day.
My sacrifice for her was that for the rest of the year, no matter what, I had to watch any schmoozey romantic crap movie she wanted every Thursday night.
Now, if I’m honest, it wasn’t all that tough for me.
Most of those movies got her so fired up I’d end up getting laid anyway.
It was a hard sacrifice to make, but I’m just that much of a loving husband.

But that all changed last year, when on her birthday (January 7th) we got an invitation to a Valentine’s Day party from some client she’d handled at work.
The invitation read

***For Lovers Only***
You and your sweetheart are cordially invited to a special costume party on St. Valentine’s Day.
You and a few others have been selected from dozens of Mr. Vincent’s associates to attend this exclusive gathering for a night of romance you and that special someone are not soon to forget.
The Night: February 14
The Time: 5:00 pm

The final line gave an address up in the hills and the number to RSVP.

We’d never gotten into arguements as heated as we did over this, it took Emily until January 30th to finally wear me down and convince me to go with her.
She called immediately before I could change my mind.

The big day came, the costume she picked was a breath taking kitten costume (that I couldn’t wait to rip off of her, again) and went as a lion tamer (which was basically just khaki cargo pants, a plain button up shirt, and a whip) just to stick with her theme.
We drove the hour and a half up the hill to this mansion that looked straight out of Clue or something.
Huge wrought iron gates that had an ornate stylized V in the center, beautifully manicured lawn and hedges, a giant fountain in the middle of the driveway, clearly Mr. Vincent was insanely well off.
We drove up to the little speaker box, pushed the button, there was a buzz, and the gates parted.
We were let in without a word.
We circled the fountain and climbed out of the car, there were 3 more ahead of ours.

Enormous pillars framed the great oak door that had lion’s head knockers that we used.
The little 5×3 inch peep hole on the door swung open and a shakey old voice said “To enter this home you must prove your love.” we glanced at each other then back at the pair of eyes staring at us through the hole in the door.
I shrugged and kissed Emily on the cheek, she giggled.
“No, not good enough.
Prove your love!” he replied.
I looked at him again, she turned to me and kiss her right on the lips, she even kicked her left leg up behind her for emphasis.
“Not good enough.
Final chance to prove your love.”
By this point, I was frustrated and snapped back “Jesus christ, do you want me to fuck her against the fountain so you can watch you old pervert?”
That earned me a playful slap on my half bare chest.
This time I grabbed her arms, closed my eyes, and pushed my tongue into her mouth.
She slid her hands into my shirt and scratched her nails across my ribs, a little moan rumbled in her throat.
The peep hole slapped shut, snapping us immediately out of the moment we’d been forced into and gotten lost in.
We stood there in silence for nearly 10 seconds, my frustration and anger at even being there was building to a breaking point when finally the door slowly started to swing open.
We were greeted to a man who looked older than some mummified corpses.
He swept his arm out, inviting us in.
As we stepped over the threshold, I glanced at him and said “Get your jollies there, Jeeves?” earning myself another slap.

As we waited for him to close the door and show us where to go, we stopped to take in our surroundings.
The foyer was dark, lit only by a giant candle filled crystal chandelier, with walls that were dark wood with intricate carvings I couldn’t make out.
The floor was black marble, veined with streaks of white.
And the staircase was intimidating as hell in it’s grandeur.
The thought crossed my mind that Em may have undersold Mr. Vincent’s wealth.

Lurch’s great great grandfather shuffled up behind us and started herding us into another dimly lit room off the right side of the foyer, a dining room that looked like a mini version of the foyer with a long table surrounded by high backed chairs set for 11.
3 couples were already seated across from each other, in costumes ranging in effort.
We were instructed to do the same before the withered old fellow left us with these 6 strangers.
We all sat there with our hands in our laps in a painful silence, occasionally broken by an awkward throat clearing.
I glanced at my watch, 7 minutes past 5.
Soon after, the lights slowly came up and I looked at Emily, who shrugged.
She’d told me Vincent had a flair for the dramatic and theatrical, but this was really getting to be a bit much.

There was a barely audible little “Kssss” sound and one of the wood panels sunk back into the wall and slide away revealing a middle aged man in an expertly tailored black suit with a near blindingly red tie standing at the bottom of a hidden staircase.
He stepped out, leaning on a black cane topped in a crystal handle as the panel closed behind him.
He walked to the head of the table.
Clearly he didn’t need the cane, but it was a good prop for his entrance.
Emily stood up and said “Mr. Vincent, what a pleasure to see you again.
You have a beautiful home.”
Everybody else stood as she was speaking.
He smiled at her, looked at everybody in turn, extended his arms and indicated for us all to take our seats.

Another “kssss” as his chair at the head of the table slide back and he sat down.
A third, louder, “Ksssss” filled the room as all of our chairs, including his, slide up to the table, practically pinning us all in our seats.
Mr. Vincent placed his hands, palms down, on the table and cleared his throat.
“Only 4?
Tsk, such a shame.” he said with a smile after a long pause.
I was getting the feeling the others were just as uncomfortable as I was getting.
Heads were swiveling more regularly now, looking for any hint of understanding in the other guests.
“Mr. Vincent, I’d like to introduce my lovely…” one of the other men started, he trailed off as Vincent slowly shook his head.
“I know all of you and your spouses quite well, I assure you.
What I don’t know is just how well you know them, but more on that later.
First, food, drink, then we can get to the fun I have planned for you all.” Vincent said as he rang a bell.
That sense of unease in my stomach was only growing.

Responding to the bell, a flurry of activity exploded around us as servers brought out our meal.
Each of us was served something different, all looked to be soups or stews, and none of it looked particularly appetizing.
What I’d gotten looked like some sort of cross between beef mushroom soup and chocolate pudding.
Mr. Vincent and his staff all stared on expectantly, waiting for all, or any, of us to try our dishes.
“Please, enjoy your meals.
They’ve been specially prepared for each of you.” the head chef strangely proclaimed.
Emily looked across to me, smiled, and got that intense look in her eye that told me to follow her lead as she picked up her spoon.
Seeing us, the other couples did the same.
Em broke the surface of her bowl first and took a big slurp, followed by an equally big “Mmmmm”.
As the room filled with more slurps, I took a little sip of mine.
My tongue was assaulted by an acidic bombardment of some of the strangest flavors I’ve ever had the misfortune of tasting, that ended with the oddest tingling burn.

Vincent sat unmoving as a statue, his bowl still untouched while we all ate.
He looked to his chef and nodded, the entire staff cleared the bowls, whether they were emptied or not, and left us to sit again in the painful utter silence.
Occasionally there was the clearing of a throat, but mostly we all awkwardly looked at each other, and I was wondering in what way this was supposed to be romantic.
“So, Mr. Vincent, how has business been, sir?” asked one of the other husbands, clearly desperate to break the incredibly strange silence.
Vincent’s head slowly turned to the man and his lips parted “Let’s not talk shop, let’s talk about the purpose of this day, romance!
You know, my dearly departed wife loved this holiday…” I rolled my eyes “…she would always tell me “It’s a day for lovers only, pumpernickel. To put aside everything else and love deeply”.
She felt every couple needed a day like this to themselves, a day to be together and appreciate one another.
It’s a nice thought.” he finished.
The wife of the man who’d spoken before uttered the strangest question I could imagine “That is so sweet, Mr. Vincent.
How long has you wife been gone?”
“27 years ago, she was murdered on the evening of Valentine’s Day.” he told her with a pained expression.
“In our own bed, by a mad man.”
Looking back, I realize that question was probably the turning point, the moment we all should have quietly left and not looked back.

That brought back the awkward quiet for a few moments.
“I’m so sorry, I didn’t know.” the woman whispered after a long pause.
“How could you?
You don’t know me at all, I’ve only had dealings through work with your husband.
Think nothing of it.” he reassured her.
The husband of another woman asked to be excused to the restroom and pushed his chair back with that strange “Kssss”.
Vincent said we’d continue when he rejoined us, and he quickly, the same sound accompanied his chair butting back up to the table, clearly some hydraulic mechanism at work.
Vincent turned to Emily’s side of the table and asked “Why are you all here?”
They looked at each other and all replied at the same time with some form of the same answer of “Because you invited us”.
“Ah” he said, nodding.
“Up until our very last year, my wife and I spent every single Valentine’s Day together, expressing our love for one another.
Every year.
Then that final year, there was an emergency at work, I had to leave early at 7 in the morning.
I didn’t want too and she didn’t want me too, but she understood the gravity of the situation.
So I left, I spent 13 grueling hours fixing the problem and finally was able to come home.”

At the time I thought I’d imagined it, but while he was talking all of our chairs pushed even closer to the table, this time literally trapping us in place.
He continued “I got home at just after 9 that evening, and the house was as silent as the grave.
The entire staff must have gone home for the evening because none answered my calls.
I walked upstairs to still more silence.
I crept apprehensively down the hall toward our bedroom, once I reached it I heard soft indistinct music from behind the door.
I reached down, turned the knob, and saw a most horrific sight.”

He stopped to take a sip from his glass, letting his words hang in the air.
Owning the room.
Finally one of the other wives piped in “is that when you found her body?” and Mr. Vincent buried his head in his hands.
His shoulders slowly raised and lowered, it looked like he was sobbing.
He stopped, and after about a half minute he slapped his hands on the table.
“I opened the door and found her flat on her back, legs in the air, with our gardener between them!
They didn’t know I’d entered until I slammed the door shut and locked it.
He jumped up and started running around grabbing his clothes.
I walked to the dresser, grabbed my revolver and went back to the door.
She tried feeding me some bullshit story about it being an accident, but I wasn’t hearing that.
I looked at him and then to her and told them, quite simply and calmly, “finish”.
They tried to refuse, until I put the gun against his skull.
Again, I simply said “finish”.
I sat in a chair next to the bed with my gun trained on them and watched as they nervously continued.
I could see his breath quickening and told him I wanted to see him finish.
He looked over at me with a mix of fear, desperation, and humiliation.
I stood and cocked the gun and told him “do it”.
He did.
And as soon as he did I pulled the trigger, firing 2 bullets into the right side of his head, my wife screamed a blood curdling scream.
I shot her in her left knee, this time she screamed “WHY?!?!?” as blood poured from her leg.

We all stared on in horror as he told us his chilling tale.
“Why would you commit such a disgisting act?” Emily asked him, clearly pained and disgusted.
“Have none of you been paying attention?
I’d known she’d been sleeping with him for months, that wasn’t the problem.
No, but the fact that she would sleep with him in our own bed on Valentine’s Day was too much.
I was a fool and left for work, and I’ll soon be punished for it.
But Valentine’s Day is for lover’s only!
No distractions, no interference!” he spouted, his voice escalating.
He pointed his old bony finger at Emily’s side of the table and bellowed “YOU FOUR ARE NO BETTER THAN MY WIFE.
TODAY, YOU SHOULD ALL BE HOME WITH YOUR SPOUSES…” he jerked a thumb to my side of the table “…BUT INSTEAD YOU’RE HERE, IN HOPES OF FURTHERING YOUR CAREERS.” he stopped and gathered his breath before finishing.
“And you’re all going to be punished for it.”

We all tried pushing our chairs back and found we were indeed trapped, Mr. Vincent cackled a harsh gaspy laugh.
“You’re not leaving yet.
You’ve put yourselves above love just like I did, and that can’t be allowed today.”
He tapped a button on his chair and everybody on my side of the table began shaking, we were being electrocuted.
It was without question the most physical pain I’d ever felt.
When it stopped I could hear screams mixed with sobs from the other side of the table begging for it to stop and that gaspy laugh again.
“Silence, all of you.
There is still time for redemption, but you must earn it.” he wheezed.
He looked to the side of the table his associates were sitting on and told them “Each of your soups were prepared with a different type of poison which will take effect in less than…” he glanced at a clock behind him “…40 minutes by my count.
In that time, you must prove your love to survive and leave my home.”
The screams from both sides of the table were deafening.
Vincent pressed his button and we were all shocked.
“Your anger will only hasten your collective demise.” he said as he took his finger off the button.

Over the next 20 minutes he asked us all manner of questions in a twisted bout of Match Game.
It was sick and unreal.
Matching answers got each couple closer to getting their antidote.
The couple closest to him didn’t get a single question right, the husband ended up choking on his own vomit while Vincent electrocuted his horrified wife.
The couple next couple got 1 question each wrong and got their antidote served to them on a silver tray.
The couple next to us were split, the husband gave wrong answers to all of the questions posed to him, while the wife got all but 1 correct.
She got her antidote while he got shocked to death.

It was our turn, and panic was setting in for me.
Em and I were both sweating when we locked eyes.
Vincent asked us question after question, we both were doing pretty well until about halfway through our turn when my beautiful wife’s nose started to bleed, a sign of the poison beginning to work.
That was when she lost her train of thought and started answering wrong.
My heart broke watching her lose her mental footing.
Her breath quickened and I knew she was slipping.
Please, just give her the antidote and take me.” I screamed at Vincent as she started coughing blood.
“Those aren’t the rules, boy.” He told me.
“If she had only cared more for you than her career, you’d both be free.”
He asked her 1 more question, she looked at Vincent then at me, a single tear rolled down her cheek as she started to shake, foam forming at the corners of her mouth.
“I love you.” were her last words as she began to choke.
Foam poured from her lips and down her neck, eyes and nose bleeding…she died.
I cried out as her head slumped, face slamming into the table.

The final couple didn’t get any questions, the one on Emily’s side died painfully just after she had and Vincent shocked the one next to me.
I don’t remember much about that couple because I was in shock.
Vincent looked at us survivors, while poking at the right arm of his throne like chair, and said “You survivors, you remaining few…you’re free to go.
But do remember the lesson I have tried to impart here tonight.”
“You’re dead, Vincent.” I stated coldly.
He opened a little compartment on the right arm of his chair while he pressed a button on the left arm, that tell tale “kssss” sounded as all of the chairs pulled back from the table, and he looked at me.
“I know, boy.” he said as I stood up and started towards him.
He pulled a gun from the compartment and placed it under his chin.
Before I could get to him, he pulled the trigger.
The top of his head exploded in a red mist.
Eyes, nose, and mouth all gushed fountains of blood as his hand and shoulders slumped, head rolling to to the side.
One of the women screamed and ran to her car, I tamped down my anger at him and ran to Emily’s side.
The next thing I remember the mansion was crawling with cops and EMTs trying to figure out what had happened.

All of us and Vincent’s staff were interviewed, most of the cooking staff admitted to their part in the horrors of the evening and were charged.
Myself and the other survivors sued Vincent’s estate and got a sizable settlement, which, though it helps, hasn’t dulled the pain one bit in the last year.
I really didn’t like it before, but since last year, and every year until I draw my last breath, I will hate this day.
My beautiful Emily…I love you, and miss you…always…

Share this post on Twitter with the hashtags #ForLoversOnly & #TSDJAProductions.

Special thanks to @nomi28572, @Fitzman73, @_13Chris, & @BatKat37 for reading, providing inspiration, notes on this story.

If you dug this, show your support for TS-D/JA Productions by checking out the bonus audio content on our BandCamp page at or by getting yourself some merch at

And finally, as we all know, the world is a rough place these days.
Do anything in your power to spread a little bit of kindness, we could all use a bit more of it.

Thanks for reading, I hope to see back here soon.


Don’t Go Down There Part 7

As you should all know by now, over a year ago I gave myself a little challenge.
I wanted to write something truly horrific, fucked up, disgusting, and weird.
This is the product of that self challenge.

What follows is Part 7 of what was originally thought to be a 3 Part story, if you all like this story I just might turn it into a series of videos, audio drama style, some day soon.

You can read Part 1 right here:

You can read Part 2 right here:

You can read Part 3 right here:

You can read Part 4 right here:

You can read Part 5 right here:

And you can read Part 6 right here:

Without further ado, Please Enjoy Part 7 of Don’t Go Down There!

He handed His gun to Her, grabbed Donny, and hissed into the little puke’s face, sending spit flying onto his stupid dimwitted face.
He grabbed Donny’s head and forced him to look into the pit, It burst into tears when his face appeared over the edge.

It was more than just simply tears at this point, it was a full body shuddering blubber as It helplessly watched everything It knew, everything It loved, every single thing It had ever held dear gleefully warped or destroyed right before It’s very eyes by It’s own flesh and blood.

The boy went limp with the shock of seeing his mother, brother, neighbors, and friends beaten, bloodied, and dead.
The stupid little mouth hung open.
He put his knee in the boys back and forced him to the ground, head hanging over the edge of the pit, He planted His foot into the boy’s back, and held His hand out behind Him.
“Give it to me, baby.
I am DONE fucking playing around with this FILTH!”
He felt the cold steel press into His hand, and the warmth of Her hand on top of it.
He smiled, and then everything He’d planned changed.

The gun went off in His hand, burning Him, as the bullet went into His arm just above the elbow.
The scent of the discharged gun hit His nostrils before the shock of the bullet entering His body had fully set in.
When that wave finally washed over Him a second or 2 later, He slowly turned and saw Her, His cousin, His love, the only woman who’d ever understood Him and His work, holding His smoking gun.
He pushed Donny into the pit, the boy screamed all the way down and didn’t stop even after he landed.
It and the boy’s cacophonous wailing only served to underscore the horror that followed.

As their eyes locked, the fury in His exploded.
She squeezed the trigger again, this time into His knee, and watched Him drop.
“You never said we’d hurt all these people, just that…THAT BITCH!
I only wanted to destroy her!” She declared.
“WHAT BETTER WAY TO DESTROY THE MOTHER THAN BY DESTROYING THE SONS, THE FRIENDS, YOU MAKE HER LONELY THEN YOU END HER, YOU SMALL MINDED, IGNORANT SLIME!” He spat back, pounding His fist on the wet concrete that was soaked in a rapidly widening pool of His own blood.

She began to shake as the gravity of the situation started setting in.
They both knew what had to happen at this point.
She looked away for just a moment, He tried to stand with a painful growl, and She snapped Her head back to Him.
“I loved you…I’m pregnant…”
His face twisted as the news processed, and before it fully could, She squeezed the trigger and unloaded the gun into Him.
He fell back and started gasping for breath.
She set the gun on His bench, walked over dropped to Her knees, and shoved Him into the pit to live out His last moments with His victims.

She went back to the work bench to catch Her breath, it was almost over.
But She had to decide how to end it.
Her mother and brother were still screaming in the pit, She knew that She could not free Her mother, not now.
The boy would be damaged goods from this day forward as well.

She looked under the bench and found a power saw, a 5 full gas cans, a few extension cords, a belt sander, a machete, a nail gun, and a few other assorted tools and power tools.
She grabbed two of the items and went up stairs.
She made one slow final walk through the house to gather Her thoughts, letting all of the memories flood back, the bad and the good, though there were far more of the former.
She visited every single room and took it all in before heading back to the basement.
A plan had hit Her like a ton of bricks.

She grabbed the nail gun, plugged it in, and headed back up.
The plan had solidified in Her mind, and She executed it with a cold precision.
She nailed the front, back, and side doors shut then dropped the nail gun by the basement door.
Next She pushed the couch infront of the front to help barricade it, then proceeded to do the same with the china cabinet at the back door and some chair from the kitchen at the side.

She picked up the nail gun and headed back to the basement, slamming the door and nailing it shut, sealing it, as She went.
She stepped to the edge of the pit and asked Her mother if He was still alive.
“I think so…Stacey, sweety, help us up and let’s all three leave.” Sheila pleaded as the boy kept screaming.
“Turn Him over so He can see me.” She called down, ignoring Her mother’s request.

She made a circle around the mouth of the pit as Sheila did as She’d requested.
Stacey grabbed the machete, stared into His eyes, and told Him “This is for you” before stabbing Herself in the stomach.
He groaned in response.
Stacey knew She only had a few moments before She would pass out, She had to act quickly.
She grabbed the final gas can and emptied it in the pit, having dumped the others throughout the house, and set the empty plastic next to Her.
Pulled matches from Her back pocket and yelled down “NOBODY CAN EVER KNOW ABOUT THIS, I HAVE TO END ALL OF IT…my way…” She whispered the last 2 words before striking the match and dropping it to ignite a ring of flame around the pit.

The stream of gas leading up to the stairs went up less than a second later.
Her pant leg caught fire with the dropping of the match, the pain was unbearable and caused Her to fall into the pit with the rest of Her family.
The screams of Her mother and brother as they burned were more horrifying than your most hellish nightmares.

The entire house was fullly engulfed in a raging inferno in 1 minute.
It took 2 whole days to put it out.
The bodies were recovered, but none were ever identified.

Nobody in the neighborhood could ever quite figure out what had happened, but you know how rumors always spring up.
The only thing they knew for sure was it had to have been that damn bald boy who’d done it.
After all, He’d watched His mother die in such a horribly similar way.

The End!

Share this post on Twitter with the hashtags #DontGoDownThere and #TSDJAProductions

If you dug this and would like to show your support for TS-D/JA Productions, check out The Camping Trip or The Nerd Blitz Pilot Trio at

Or by visiting

Real quick, I want to give a thank you too @Wv_Ant86 and @Nightmarexpress for supporting this story from the beginning.
I hope you both enjoyed the ride!

And finally!
As we can all see every single day, the world can be an Incredibly shitty place.
Do every single thing in your power to combat that by spreading a little bit of joy, even if it’s just a smile to a stranger who seems to be having a bad day.
We need it now more than ever.

Thank you for reading, I hope you come back soon.

Don’t Go Down There Part 6

​As you should all know by now, over a year ago I gave myself a little challenge.
I wanted to write something truly horrific, fucked up, disgusting, and weird.
This is the product of that self challenge.

What follows is Part 6 of what was originally thought to be a 3 Part story, if you all like this story I just might turn it into a series of videos, audio drama style, some day soon.

You can read Part 1 right here:

You can read Part 2 right here:

You can read Part 3 right here:

You can read Part 4 right here:

And you can read Part 5 right here:

If you want more, please don’t be shy!

The only ways for that to happen is for you to let me know in the comments below or through tweets and retweets.

Any and all encouragement leads to more if this kind of derangement.
Without further ado, Please Enjoy Part 6 of Don’t Go Down There!

“Keep your fuckin’ mouth shut or I will gut them both and throw ’em down for you to watch ’em die, bitch.” He hissed down to It.
The boys, Tim 9 and Donny 12, got to the bottom of the stairs in seconds.
Stacey called them over, they slowly listened to their sister.
Down in the pit, their beaten and battered mother clamped her hand over her swollen mouth to stifle her fearful sobs.

He was standing back in the shadows as one of the little bastards asked Stacey if He was there.
He stepped forward and the boys froze in their tracks, He could see the fear etched in their stupid dim faces.
He put his hand into his wasteband and wrapped his fingers around the cold steel of his gun, they tried to back away.
He aimed it at the little one.
“Don’t run, you’ll only make it worse for yourselves and your Mom.” He told them, saying the last word with as much contempt as He could muster.
“Whe…where is Mommy?” the boy asked, looking nervously at the rags.
He could hear It trying desperately trying to keep as quiet as It could, he smiled.

“Come over here, I’ll tell you.” He told the sobbing little shit.
The kid stared, but didn’t move, his feet frozen in place.
“Do it, Timothy.” Stacey said giving him a slight shove.
Down in the pit, It looked up, breath caught in It’s throat as the sweet baby boy looked down at his mother.
The boy shook as a shadow fell over him.
Tim looked back at his older cousin, who had a frightening grin on his face and His gun aimmed at the still forming head.
It’s breath & heartbeat quickened, It half yelled and half sobbed up “NO, DON’T DO IT! PLEASE, I’LL DO ANYTHING, WHATEVER YOU WANT! JUST LET MY BABIES GO!”
He growled and screamed back “IT ONLY SPEAKS WHEN SPOKEN TOO!” as the shot rang out.
The small body limply fell into the pit, on to what was it’s Mother’s shoulder.

Donny’s mouth hung open and eyes went wide watching his brother fall into the pit.
The thud and his Mother’s scream induced a panic.
Stacey stoically stared as her youngest brother left her sight.
She grabbed Donny’s arm and drug him closer to her love, and the pit.
She touched His shoulder, He looked in Her eyes as the boy struggled in her grasp.
“This needs to end.” Stacey told Him.
He kissed her again and said “I couldn’t agree more.”

To Be Continued…

Share this post on twitter with the hashtag #DontGoDownThere.

If you like this and want more horror, check out the 1st original horror audio from TS-D/JA Productions & JJ2E Media The Camping Trip.
Available for just $5 at

And finally, as we see everyday, the world can be an incredibly shitty place filled with horrible people.
Do EVERYTHING in your power to combat that in anyway possible by spreading just a bit of kindness, it really helps.

Thanks for reading, hope to see you back here soon.

3 Years Of TS-D/JA Productions

I’m really surprised I’ve stuck with it for 3 years, but I’m sure glad I have.
Okay now, this year I’m really flying without a net, none of this shit is planned.
So strap in (or strap on) cause this might take a while.

But before we get into everything else, let’s go back to where it all started on May 27th 2013 with Bitch Slappin’ The Wind:

Also, give a look at years 2nd Anniversary post:

Now, let’s get to the heart of the matter.
Boil it all down and TS-D/JA Productions, in all of it’s many forms, is really just the continuing progress of 1 dude who’s scared shitless of the real world, who never wanted to grow up and be a big people, who always just wanted to make stupid voices because it made himself laugh, who’s awkward around people because he doesn’t trust them, who just doesn’t want to face reality.
A dude that’s worried that some day he is going to die alone and there’s not going to be anybody on the planet to remember him because he was so closed off, so apart, so detached from the world.
A dude that would desperately love to be remembered for one of the best reasons imaginable, at least in his mind…to be remembered because he entertained you.

3 years after starting on this journey, I’m not sure if I’ve even begun accomplishing that feat…but it’s definitely not for lack of trying.
This last year I, with the help of so many many talented people, have been far more prolific than in either of the 2 years before, maybe even more so than those 1st 2 years combined.
Once again, on a personal level, this past year hasn’t really been the greatest, but I have creatively thrived in spite of that.
Probably as a way to try and escape the craziness.
But lets just keep to the public shit.

Sadly, in the past year, there have been fewer posts on my channel and on this site.
Hell, the Typecast has basically become a thing of the past as it’s becoming harder and harder to get folks to do them and cover new ground.
The videos have become rarer and rarer on the channel because it’s getting harder to come up with new material, whether it’s based on known properties or just making shit up.
But there is a good excuse for that!

If you follow either of my twitter accounts (@TheScoobyDoom & @TSDJAProduction, if you didn’t know) or if you’ve been paying attention to this site you’ve seen me talking about The Camping Trip.
I think I started writing it the day before or the day after Christmas and it took me about a month to write my half of the story.
After a few persisting issues with my old Rock Band mic that I’ve used since I made Dumbass Poets Society, I was able to get a new mic from @SteBoost (who has actually, and probably without even realizing it, been a really big hero to TS-D/JA Productions this year) in February and it took me about a month to record all of it in 8 voices or so and send it to my partner in crime, the dude that’s basically become the Scotty Mo to my Kev Smith in the last 12 months, the good sir @Fitzman73.

Over the last 2 months Fitz has edited, and I’ve heard, over a half hour of The Camping Trip.
And let me tell you folks, this will be the best sounding anything to have the TS-D/JA Productions name on it, the dude is fucking CRUSHING it!
I wish to hell I could give you the release date here, but there is still a lot of work to be done.
But I can give you a little hope on that front, I’m 75% sure it will be out before the end of July.
There could still be a bump in the road that causes a delay, but right now it’s looking good.

Until then, enjoy this trailer I just posted not too long ago:

Cool and creepy, right?

Now, what’s the other thing that’s kinda made me slack off on everything else?
Again, if you’ve paid attention to my 2 twitter accounts, I’ve launched a 3rd twitter account!
Wait…that’s not the thing, it’s what that twitter account is for that’s worth celebrating!
If you read the 2nd Anniversary post that I linked to above you know I was big time dreaming of hopefully launching a podcast before this years Anniversary.
Well guess what!
After @Fitzman73 and I went and saw Episode VII back in December (right after I started writing my half of The Camping Trip) we recorded a pod on the way back to my house (which you can read more about and find out how to listen to here: and it was fuckin’ fun, man.
First time I met the dude and we had an awesome time, at the very least from my perspective, which just added fuel to the fire of folks begging us (based on all of our Typecasts) to do a pod of our own.
Well, on April 16th @NerdBlitzPod set sail into the harsh waters of Podcastdom.

Fitz (again, like a champ) does ALL of the editing, so why has my shit been so sporadic?
Well, those intros and outros don’t write and record themselves.
That’s been my thing since The Nerd Blitz With Doom & Fitz launched, I write and record all of the intros and outros (Fitz does lines as needed) you hear on the pod (which you should all go listen to at and I’ve been making and editing videos for the Nerd Blitz YouTube channel (which you can find HERE), where very soon you will see the podcast episodes popping up as soon as I can make them and get them to Fitz to post.

So yeah, you are getting fewer posts, but you are getting far more content.
We’ve been recording weekly and banking episodes, but bi-weekly, for the foreseeable future, you will be getting at the very least 1 hour of new content from your favorite giant dog man Doom and his hockey helmeted friend Fitz in the form of The Nerd Blitz (which you should read more about here:, and we have a few things planned that we hope you folks will dig to give you more content than just the regular bi-weekly show, plus a few things we hope some of you will want to help us with to help us grow our listenership.

Something else that was pretty fuckin’ awesome in the last year was that, thanks to the rocker and roller that is @TheJSarge, my voice can be heard on one of my favorite podcasts!
At the end of the Tell ‘Em Steve-Dave (a podcast which has been talked about many times around these parts) Halloween special last year, the creepy little voice that says the title is none other than me!
It’s nothing huge, but it’s pretty damn cool for me.
You can listen to it at this link:
And here’s my very first reaction to it:
I’d talked to Sarge before and sent him some takes of me saying Tell ‘Em Steve-Dave that I’d recorded on my old phone with the shitty built in mic.
Well, I offered to redo them for him with my slightly better set-up (the old Rock Band mic and such) and he said sure.
He said he’d try to use them if he could, and I honestly didn’t really see when he’d have the opportunity to use them, but hey, at least I tried!
Then the dude came through with this!
He really is a cool motherfucker.

Now, lets get into the numbers game, which is what I obsess over more than anything else. Haha
Total views for everything I’ve done in these last 3 years are as follows…
The Site: 4919
The main YouTube Channel has: 8697
The Pod Youtube Channel has: 120
And the Pod has: 237
Pretty fuckin’ cool, right?
All combined, that’s 13,973 views.

Now, lets talk about total combined hours of content in these 3 years.
Between both YT Channels (not including The Camping Trip trailer, that goes on year 4’s record) I, with crazy amounts of help, have created and produced a total of 2 hours 13 minutes and 36 seconds of video content.
Between the 2 bonus episodes posted on the JJ2End Feed, Episode 20 of Just Jump To The End, and the 1st 3 Episodes of The Nerd Blitz With Doom & Fitz, Fitz and I have produced 5 hours 46 minutes and 26 seconds of glorious podcast content.
All that comes together for a grand total of 7:59:02 by my mathin’.
Just 58 seconds short of 8 full hours in 3 years.
That’s over 4 times the 1:43:00 I had last year.

Now let’s get into the thank yous for the last year.
For the videos, I want to send a huge heartfelt thank you to the following people: @ShariSayz, @_13Chris, @FromTheMonkey, @Woody_TESDFan & @JoePeel of @ShootheMoonBand, @AmandaMDanger, @Fitzman73, @GingerNacre, @NeilGat, @Forgeticus, @SteBoost, @KatLong31, @LookingForEight, @Gabryelledam, & @Joinedtofollow.

For their help with the site, deepest thanks go too @Fitzman73, @Joinedtofollow, @ScoobySnaxCom, @MemeEmSteveDave, @SpiderScooby, @CheeryAnt, @SteBoost, @ShariSayz, @KatLong31, and a special thanks to @SMorgan21 for offering to doba Typecast (I still wanna give it a whirl, Sandy).

To start wrapping up, and to reiterate what I said last year, of you’ve been here since the beginning, THANK YOU!
If you just found something I made yesterday, THANK YOU!
If you read, watch, subscribe, or listen to anything or everything I have made, THANK YOU!
And if you have ever helped, left a comment, or engaged in conversation based on any of it,
It really does mean the world to me and I THANK YOU!
You’ve helped me through those small simple actions more than you could ever realize.
And a Huge Thank You goes to @SpiderScooby for encouraging me to get on the twitter in the first place, without that push, none of this exists.
Thanks for that and so much more, brother.

One more time, here are all of the links to all of the ways you can consume and support TS-D/JA Productions.
Pod YT: Nerd Blitz on YT
Pod Twitter: @NerdBlitzPod
My YT:
My Scooby Writings: ScoobyFan.Net/Author/Scooby-Doom/
My Twitter: @TheScoobyDoom
TS-D/JA Productions Merch:
TS-D/JA Productions Twitter: @TSDJAProduction


Share this post on Twitter with the hashtags #TSDJAProductions #TheCampingTrip and/or #NerdBlitz.

And finally, quite often the world can be an incredibly shitty place.
Do EVERYTHING in your power to combat that and spread a little bit of good and kindness in any way you can.
Even small acts can help far more than you realize.
Thank you so much for your support, I hope to see you back here again next year.

Don’t Go Down There Part 5

As you all know by now, many months ago I gave myself a little challenge.
I wanted to write something truly horrific, fucked up, disgusting, and weird.
This is the product of that self challenge.

What follows is Part 5 of what was originally thought to be a 3 Part story, if you all like this story I just might turn it into a series of videos, audio drama style, some day soon.

You can read Part 1 right here:

You can read Part 2 right here:

You can read Part 3 right here:

And you can read Part 4 right here:

If you want more, please don’t be shy!
The only ways for that to happen is for you to let me know in the comments below or through tweets and retweets.
Any and all encouragement leads to more if this kind of derangement.

Without further ado, Please Enjoy Part 5 of Don’t Go Down There!

Aunt Shei…no, It’s still closed eyes started moving back and forth under It’s lids.
He smacked It’s disgusting face again, the sound of flesh on wet flesh hung in the air.
It’s eyes slowly opened, It raised It’s swollen, blood soaked face and looked up at Him.
He smiled at It.
It tried to stand, but, just like His recently dead previous victim, It’s arms were chained behind It’s back and to the wall.
It had a urine soaked rag covering It’s eyes, just like the last Thing had, and one stuffed in It’s mouth.
He and Stacey wanted to humiliate the bitch.

Sheil…It! Damn it, It!
It spit the rag out once It started getting It’s bearings.

He ripped the rag off of It’s face so he could see the complete and utter disdain in It’s eyes as It tried to spit the taste out of It’s mouth.
“It’s kind of poetic, right? I mean, we were going to go hunting for a new victim, but you deserve it more than anybody else we ever could have chosen.
Isn’t it, Stace?” He said looking at the love of His life.
She stood back behind Him and stared at Her Mother, whose eyes started welling up with tears.
Stacey stepped forward and spit in Her Mother’s face, it hurt Sheila more than all of His abuse ever would or could.

The wad of spit hung from Sheila’s chin, as Stacey stepped back and snaked Her arms around His waist.
Again, their lips met.
Sheila recoiled, seeing Her Daughter and Nephew behave in such a way made her stomach churn…and they knew it.
They parted Their lips and turned in It’s direction, wiggling Their tongues at each other, simply trying to disgust Sheila.
It gagged and puked down the front of It’s shirt.
They both laughed.
He walked up and kicked It in Her chest, It’s back slammed into the wall.
He walked back toward His bench, shaking the vomit off of His boot as He went.

“What did I ever do to you two?” It asked with a slight slur while trying to catching It’s breath.
He turned back toward It with His arms outstretched and screamed “YOU CAN’T FIGURE IT OUT???”, spittle flying from his lips.
Again, It physically recoiled.
“I have done nothing but treat you both with more love and respect than you ever showed me.” It said, starting to hyperventilate and blubber worse with each word.
“And now, finally, you are going to pay dearly for it, mother.” Stacey said, staring a hole through It.

Sheila tried to stand up again, and He ran up and kicked Her feet out from under Her.
“IT DOES NOT MOVE UNTIL IT’S TOLD TO FUCKIN’ MOVE, BITCH!” He bellowed as It’s body hit the matress with a dull wet thud.
“It’s not right, it’s not natural.” It sobbed.
“I took you in when your mother, my sister, died. She would be so disgusted if she could see what you two are doing, what you’ve done. It’s wrong.”
It crawled to It’s knees again.
“Well, you can tell that gross dead swine all about us when you see her in just a few minutes, Mom.” Stacey said.
It was like a knife through Sheila’s heart, Her own daughter, who had fallen so far away from that beautiful little girl who would cry for Mama to read her another bed time story, who gave her a night night smooch until the age of 15, had just told Her that They planned to kill Her.
Sheila’s shoulders slumped.

He walked to his bench, grabbed something small, then stalked towards It.
It looked up at Him and He smacked It’s face with the back of His hand and said “Don’t you dare look at me.”
He fiddled with the chain behind It’s back, where it attached to the wall, and unlocked it.
He walked in front of It’s and yanked the chain toward His bench, It braced.
He yanked again and It collapsed to It’s knees.
The bone cracking sound of It’s knees hitting the cold hard wet cement was sickening, made worse by the scream that followed.
“What are you doing to me? Let me go, damn you!” It screamed.
“Stacey, open the fuckin’ pit, move the grate, lets throw It in!” He hissed.
She did as She was told as He drug Her Mother to the edge.
He shined a light down into it’s depth and laughed a deep belly laugh.
“Look down there” He said “it’s your neighbors, sweet old Mrs. Shapiro and Mr. Tomlinson, and who’s that I see? Why, it’s none other then your dear friend, Mr. Umber! Care to join them?” He said, as He shoved Her in.

Stacey stood by His side and barked with laughter as Her Mother fell onto the rotted, stinking, bloated corpses below.
It’s face landed on the lower back of a body that had started decaying.
The stench made It gag, which was starting to hurt It’s swollen bloody gums.
It rolled onto It’s back and looked up at Him and Stacey, both doubled over in laughter, and finally It felt hopelessness set in.
It closed eyes and gave in as It’s body shook, It was overcome with violent sobs.
And the It heard a zipping sound, It opens It’s eyes in just enough time to see Him pull His dick out and unleash a stream of piss down on It and the former neighbors.
It pulled it’s arms under It’s legs, getting them back in front of It and tried to crawl to the edge, out of the path of His flow as He continued to cackle.
It put It’s hand on what felt like a solid hand hold only to have it rip through the flesh into the still bile filled stomach of Mrs. Shapiro.

He zipped His pants back up, and just then It’s worse fear came true as Stacey’s 2 younger siblings called down the stairs for Their mother.
“Hey, come on down, guys. Mommy has a surprise for you.” Stacey called up to them.
Sheila could hear them coming down the stairs, Her heart broke at the horror Her 2 sweet baby boys were about to walk into.

To be continued…


Share this post on Twitter with the Hashtag #DontGoDownThere.

If you want to show your support for TS-D/JA Productions, you can get merch with the logo emblazoned on them through this link:

And finally!
As we all see almost daily, this world is a hard shitty place filled with people out to do harm.
Go out and do the exact opposite, in any way you can, try to make the world a little less shitty.

Thanks for reading, I hope to see you back here soon.

Abandoned Scooby-Doo! Story Part 3 Of 3

This is it kids, the last part of my Scooby story.

You’ll have to cut me a little slack, I was never good at coming up with last names.
I never wanted to say “this is Bill Smith or Wayne Jones, tried to be different and usually came off goofy as hell.

No more jabberin’ from me, get to reading Part 3 of Scooby-Doo and the Curse Of The Football Spector…

“Well, I guess I’d better tell you then.
This might well be the last game played here in the Igloo Dome.
We’ve had a…well, he claims that he’s thr ghost of the very first owner of the Penguin’s, Tom Hawkrider.
He calls himself “the football spector” and he’s been scaring the day lights out of the crowds.” Carl told them.
“Why, Carl?” Daphne wondered.
“Because, back in 1979, he sold the team and then the man that bought the team turned around and sold the team a season or two later to my father who never got along with Hawkrider.” he explained.
“And let me guess, Hawkrider put a curse on the team?” Velma asked.
“That’s right, he said 10 years after his death he would return and stop whoever owned the team from ever owning another team.
Well, I don’t have to tell you what that means.
This season is the 10th season since his death.” Carl finished.

“You’re not worried, are you Mr. Trekwall?” Fred asked.
“To be honest, I am.
What with all that has happened this season, I’m very worried.” he replied.
“What’s happened, sir?” Velma asked.
“Well, at first it was a lot of minor things that almost went unnoticed.
Broken lightbulbs, dumped over trash bins, simple things that we thought were petty vandalism.
Then the scoreboard started displaying rude messages and things like that.
You may also remember hearing on the news that we had postponed a game, the story we put out to the press said that we had a plumbing issue, when the actual issue was that the entire field had been dug up.
So you see, at that point I knew it had to be the curse, and then the spector showed up.” Carl said, looking increasingly uneasy.

“What happened when the ghost showed up?” Daphne asked.
“It started appearing the day after the field incident, it threatened me.
It told me a horror unlike any the world had ever seen before would befall me if I didn’t step aside by midnight last night.”
“Why didn’t you just step aside a save us all an unimaginable horror?” Shaggy asked with a nervous laugh.
“I have 2 reasons.
1st, the 1 person I would trust to put in charge hates working here as it is, and that’s my daughter.
So I’m sure she would hate having even more responsibilities in the organization.
And 2nd, this is the only connection to my father that I have left.” he explained.

The door opened again and in walked a man carrying a helmet, wearing the powder blue and black gear of the Coolsville Penguins, followed by the ticket girl from the gate, holding a purple purse.
While they all recognized the girl, only Velma and Fred recognized the man.
“You’re the man that almost trampled us in the parking lot.” Velma said at the same time Fred shouted “Oh my god! You’re Craig Walkerton! Can I have your autograph?”
Visibly overwhelmed, Craig said. “I’m so sorry about that, I was late.
But seeing as the dome is only a third full 10 minutes before kick-off, I don’t think many will mind.” he then turned to Fred. “And yes, you can have my autograph.
These days, I’m just glad to know I still have a fan who wants it.”

Just then Daphne notices what the girl from the ticket gate was holding and exclaimed. “My purse!
But where did you get it?”
“Obviously, you left it on my counter when you handed me your tickets.” the girl responded.

“Elizabeth! Where are your manners?
That is no way to treat a customer!” Trekwall said to his employee.
“Yeah, whatever, Dad.” she said
She threw Daphne’s purse at his feet and stormed out.
Scooby walked over, picked it up, and brought it to Daphne as, with surprise, Velma asked. “She’s your daughter?”
“And my wife.” Craig said
“She was the one that grabbed your arm in the hall, she said you’d left your bag and we were coming to return it when you walked by us.
We didn’t mean to scare you.”
With that, the two guards left.

Seconds later yells came from the hall.
“What the hell?
Every single damn time I clean up this dump the morons around here have to make another one.” Ranted a custodian.
“And worse yet, Ig and Ook have to come through kicking trash, making my job even harder.
One of these days I’ll get my….oh! Mr. Trekwall, uh, Mr. Walkerton.
H-how are you gentlemen doing today?” Clearly worried he’d been heard.


That custodian was actually supposed to be a character from an old issue of DC’s original Scooby-Doo comic, #114 if I remember correctly.

That’s it, hope you all dug it.

Share this post on twitter with the hashtags #ScoobyDoo and #TSDJAProductions.

And finally, the world is a tough place full of crappy people.
Do your part to change that by being a little less turdy.
A smile or a kind word can help more than you realize.

That’s it for TS-D/JA Productions this year, gang.
There’s a bunch of cool stuff that I hope to share with you next year and I hope you all come back then to read, watch, & listen to it all.
Thanks for your support and thanks for reading.

Abandoned Scooby-Doo! Story Part 2 of 3

Yesterday I posted this tweet ( telling folks if it got 12 RT’s they’d get Part 2 of my abandoned Scooby story (you can read Part 1 here).
Well, moments ago, it reached that goal.

This is about 95% of what the original was, there are a few spots where I couldn’t read my own handwriting, so I had to kinda connect the dots a bit.
So if it gets a wee bit flowery or good, That’s why. Haha
Also, as I said in Part 1, this was written at a creative low point, so that’s why folks sound a little bit more aggressive than you’d expect.

So, without further ado, Scooby-Doo! And The Football Spectre, Part 2!

“Like, that would be me dude. And please, just call me Shaggy.” Shaggy responded.
“Oh right, so sorry, um, and who are all of these…nice young people you have with you, um, Shaggy?” Carl asked, looking the Gang over.
“This is Fred Jones, Daphne Blake, Velma Dinkley, and my best friend in like, the whole wide world, Scooby-Doo.” Shaggy told Mr. Trekwall.
“Good doggy.” Trekwall said in Scooby’s direction.
“Roggy? Where?” Scooby asked with offense as Carl pretended not to hear him and continued on.
“Well, come right this way, your V.I.P. booth is right up here. Food vendors will check in to see if you need anything every half-hour, everything you order will, of course, be free of charge. Any questions?”
“Yeah man, when does the first vendor get here? I’m totally starving here!” Shaggy asked.
“Shaggy!” Daphne scolded him in a motherly sort of way.
“No, no, no, it’s quite alright Miss. Blake. Right after kick-off, which should be in about 15-20 minutes. I need to go and speak with Mr. Walkerton before then, so I don’t wish to be rude, but I have to go.” He said as He left.

“Oh boy, I don’t know if Scooby and I can wait 20 minutes more, huh buddy?” Shaggy asked his pal.
“Reah, Ri’m so starved, Raggy.” Scooby replied, clutching his stomach.
“Well, would a Scooby Snack help?” Velma asked reaching for the familiar box.
“Reah, reah, reah!” Scooby replied excited.
“You too, Shag?” She asked.
“Totally, but like, two would be twice as nice!” He said.
“Fine then.” She said and threw them each two.

As the friends ate their snacks, Fred spoke “Well Gang, what should we do until the game starts.”
“We could go look at one of those cute little gift shops we saw on our way up.” Daphne suggested.
“That’s a great idea, I’d like to get myself a Penguin’s jersey and hat.” Fred said.
“Well, what are we waiting for? Let’s go.” Velma said.
“Shaggy, what about you and Scooby?” Daphne asked him.
“Me and Scoob’ll stay here and wait for you all to come back, right ol’ buddy?” He asked.
“Reah, wait right here.” Scooby answered licking Snack crumbs off Shaggy’s hand.
So Fred, Daphne, and Velma all left to go to the gift shop.
Half way down the ramp Daphne stopped.
“What’s wrong?” Fred asked her.
“I forgot my purse in our booth.” She replied.
Let’s go back and get it then.” Velma said.
“No, no, you two go ahead, I’ll go back then meet you there.” Daphne told her.
Daphne started walking back to the room, suddenly a hand reached out and grabbed her arm.
She shook her arm loose, screamed, and ran the entire way back to the booth.

Back in the V.I.P. booth, Shaggy stood up, stretched, and asked “Like, Scoob, I need to stretch my legs, wanna go for a walk?”
“Rokay!” Scooby replied excitedly.
Just then they heard the scream, exchanged a quick glance, and both grabbed the end of the couch.
They started to walk it to the door to block it when it flew open, Daphne ran in, and slammed it closed behind her.
The twosome rammed the couch up against the door and turned to Daphne.
“L-l-l-like, please tell me it wasn’t you that just screamed.” Shaggy asked.
“Well I wish I could tell you it…JEEPERS!” Daphne yelled as the couch came across the room towards Her, Scooby, and Shaggy.
The door burst open behind it, Fred, Velma, Carl came rushing in followed by 2 guards.
“What happened? Who yelled?” Carl asked.
“That was me Mr. Trekwall, somebody grabbed my arm.” Daphne replied.

How will it all end?
Find out soon, when I post Part 3!

Share this post on twitter with the hashtags #ScoobyDoo and #TSDJAProductions.

Finally, the world is full of people who will be unnecessarily crappy to you.
Combat that by going out into the world and spreading a little kindness.
Thanks for reading, see you next time!

How It Happened: Channel Surfing

Strap in, cause this is a long ass story!


I realize I may say this a lot, but this is a video I love and am beyond proud of because I was able to show off my talent on every front.
Editing, Voice Acting, Producing, and Directing.
This is a showcase of just exactly what I can do at my very best!

I want to make this extremely, blisteringly, painfully clear here at the top, I hold no ill will, grudge, or anything else of the sort against the brilliant artist mentioned below!
What I say below is just my perspective on the situation and how I felt at the time.
And I will own it right here and right now, it is my fault and I definitely could have and should have handled it better.

With all of that out of the way, lets get into it, and trust me when I tell you there is a story and a half to be told here.

Some of you may have noticed that all of the female voices in this video are credited to a Twitter account (@Sunnee_dayz) that isn’t really active and there is a reason for that.
The lovely lady behind those beautiful voices is none other than the supremely talented @ShariSayz.
As I recall, this video came together in an extremely short amount of time to meet my fast approaching deadline, I think it was less than 2 weeks for the full production of this one.
And that includes the writing.
So, the idea I had for this thing originally was that a dude was sitting up late one night watching TV, flipping through the channels, and running across all the types of shows and infomercials that we all know exist in those wee hours of the night/morning.
But that felt a little too weak, I needed something to strengthen the video, I didn’t want it to just be a collection of me doing weird voices and shit.
I struggled to come up with a wraparound story to give it all a purpose to exist, and that was when I came up with the closing segment (which had it’s own set of problems that I’ll get to later) of the dude watching a porn on TV and getting caught by his lady.
I had my hook!

I knew I needed to write a lady in at this point, which gave me the idea for a new segment to include.
I figured I had to come up with a reason for the wifey to be gone long enough for the dude to flip through all of those channels too, and I’ll admit her having to park down the block is a bit weak but it’s enough to get into the showcase of voices.

As I was breaking and recording the segments, I started thinking of who I could get to help me out with bringing this baby home.
While technically this is the first time I’ve worked with @ShariSayz on something that you guys have gotten to see, I’ve actually written something with her in mind before that kind of stalled out due to my feeling overwhelmed by the story and another actor being hard to reach.
@ShariSayz had recorded and sent me some takes for that and a bit of a sizzle reel of her doing some voices and I liked what she did.

Now this is where things started getting complicated, and as I said above, I could have AND SHOULD HAVE handled it better, but this is how it happened from My perspective.
I DM’d Shari on Twitter and asked her if she would be interested in working with me on a new project.
She said yes.
Then I dropped the bombshell, because I figured if she didn’t want to be in based on what I had to say we could get it out of the way early, no harm no foul.
I broke it down and told her exactly what I needed, being PAINFULLY clear that there was a porn scene.
Her reply was that that was fine, she had no shame.
I was shocked she’d agreed, but she did.
I told her the timeline would be very short as this just popped into my head and the deadline was creeping up fast.
She said she’d do her best.
I was relieved simply because I thought, understandably so, the porn scene would be a hard sell.

So she recorded and sent the audio and it was brilliant!
I don’t say this because she was kind enough to help me or because I’m pretty sure she’ll read this, I say this because it is the goddamn truth, Shari is AMAZINGLY talented and made my work better just by taking part in it.
But I had a slight issue with her initial porn track and asked for a rerecord, which she quickly did for me, and it was perfect!
I quickly set about recording/editing it all together (which was a fiasco in and of itself that I’ll tell you about a little bit later) and that was when I got an email from from Shari that almost brought it all crashing down around me.

2 days before it’s ready to be posted, I’m still editing and recording like a bastard trying to get it ready to post when I get and email from Shari telling me that she’s getting cold feet because of the porn.
She was afraid, and understandably/rightfully so, of the possibility that future employers or, god forbid, her parents would hear it.
I tried my damnedest to talk her down, mostly for the incredibly selfish reason that at the time I had no other lady I could turn to (a problem that persists to this day, with the exception of the lovely Bat Kat), and I will admit that to this day, while I love this video deeply, I do feel a bit guilty for the pressure I did put on her not to drop out on me.
It was insanely selfish, and I’ll felt bad about it for quite a while and it continues to flare up when I’m in a particularly bad mood from time to time.
I’ve mentioned many times the guilt I feel about folks doing work for me for free, and that is something I still battle with.
I still try to do whatever I can without help because of that.

So I convinced her to sleep on it, all the while I was losing my fuckin’ mind on twitter.
The crunched production time already had me on edge and this seemed to be making all of the hard work I’d put in useless.
But thankfully the next day, after talking it over with somebody, she sent me an email and said cooler heads prevailed and gave me the go ahead to use her audio if I put that fake @ on it.
Which was a version of one of the contingency plans I’d posed the night before.
So that was settled.
Now before I go into breaking down each segment I want to make it clear that I only tell this story because @ShariSayz gave me permission.
For that and for doing the video, I thank you Shari.
And I do apologize for putting pressure on you to go through with it.
That WILL NOT happen again.

Now, go watch the video and afterwards I’ll break it down segment by segment for ya’s.

Fun, right?
Now lets get into the details!


Opening: As I said above, that was all just to get the wife/girlfriend out of the house so the husband/boyfriend could do some Channel Surfing.
But there is a bit more to it than you all realize.
When I said above that I had worked with @ShariSayz on something else, the image of Hal’s “qwik check” is a reference to that.
That story was called “Why Us” and featured @TheGuy4420, Shari, and myself in a story full of death, mobsters, and mayhem that I had intended to turn into a trilogy of videos.
It was also to feature @FromTheMonkey as Hal!
It was my little attempt at universe building, trying to connect all of my shit together in a View Askew kinda way.
But as of today, Why Us remains unproduced.
Maybe someday…


3:16: Any WWE fan knows exactly what this is, but for those of you reading who may not, this is a tribute to Stone Cold Steve Austin’s famous King Of The Ring ’96 promo after he won that basically helped launch his character and career to new heights.
Great promo, check it out on YT.


Channel 37 News: Obviously, Channel 37 is a reference to Clerks, but the cauterized assholes actually is a sorta reference to something from my childhood.
There was this kid in the neighborhood who had a video camera and a fascination with fire, one dangerously hilarious story had him put his finger into a bottle of finger nail polish remover, he turned the bottle upside down to soak his finger real damn good, he turned the bottle right side up, pulled his finger out, and lit his finger on fire…his finger went up, all of us (including him) laughed...THEN SUDDENLY THE FLAME TRAVELED UP HIS ARM TO HIS ARMPIT!!!
What dumbass didn’t realize was that when he turned the bottle upside down his finger didn’t create a perfect seal, the polish removing liquid leaked down his arm.
After that, we told him someday he’d melt his asshole shut.


Tube Man: Joke from Family Guy that I’ve always loved.
Everytime I see one of those fuckin’ things I think of that entire bit, and on occasion I break out and do the bit.

Televangelist: You all know late night TV is littered with these fuckin’ DOUCHE BAGS begging for money so they can maintain their goddamn arena churches.
Using the voice of Reverend Tim from Dumbass Poets Society, I did my version…which is, as per my usual, (and to quote @NeilGat)  about as subtle as surprise prison rape, Reverend Tim just flat out tells you to “GIVE ME YOUR MONEEEEY!” sounding a bit like Chris Tucker.


Music: Ah, now this segment has a pretty good story to it as well, most of which happened after the video dropped.
After @Woody_TESDFan did the song for me for Dumbass Poets Society 2: Fallout we talked about doing more together.
When this video developed I knew I wanted to have a segment with some music in it, so I talked to Woody about it and he graciously provided me with Part Of Life by his band Shoot The Mood.
I asked him for a picture to go along with it, again he came through.
The video got posted, everything went swimmingly…but that fuckin’ song, man!
I couldn’t shake it!
Just something about it kept giving me these flashes of images, images that were slightly depressing but realistic none the less.
You might notice I’m not telling you what those images are/were and that would be because I did a break down, including numerous time stamps, of these images and sent the entire idea of the music video I had playing in my head to Woody.
He talked to the band, said they dug it, and the plan was that he and a few folks he knew were going to go forward and shoot the video, send it to me to edit together, then it would be posted on the Shoot The Moon YouTube Channel and on My YouTube Channel…now somewhere along the way we both got busy with other projects and sadly nothing has happened since.
But, either they way described above or on my own (if they give me approval, obviously) I wanna go forward and make this video.
In my estimation, it’s too damn good not to make it!

Super Bright Flashing Light: This is just me poking fun at the stupid bullshit products they show in late night commercials and infomercials with so much excitement they make you wanna fuckin’ puke.


Russia From My Backyard: We all remember this particular soundbite of pure stupidity, no need to break it down any further on that front.
But the picture?
Ah, it was actually taken winter 2013/2014 from my back porch during the record snowfall we had.
I thought it was a bad ass pic so I snapped it.
While making this video, I had the idea for this segment and it fit.
I remember the reaction when I pitched it to @ShariSayz because, as detailed above, I figured she’d take issue with the porn right away but this is the one that seemed to stump her the most.
She said something like “I don’t know if I can do that. I’ve never done a Palin impression.” which still to this day makes me laugh.
I remember telling her it didn’t have to sound exact just to have the same feeling, but if she didn’t feel she could pull it off I would do it.
Obviously, she did it and she did it well.

Clouds: This segment here is an almost direct pull (I made 1 slight derivation in the restaurant name) from one of Gabriel Iglesias’s bits.
I have been a fan of Gabriel since his days on All That days on Nickelodeon and wanted to do a little tribute to him.


Veg-etarian: This I thought was funny simply because it’s not what you expect them to say.
You know you expected some kind of ethicist or homophobic bullshit to flop out of their mouths and it gives you a bit of shock when they pull a swerve and go in a different direction.
And I liked the pic I came up with for it, something kinda peaceful about a crapper at the foot of a mountain.


Balls Deep: Usually before I record I use songs from Family Guy and The Cleveland Show as warm ups.
So, with that in mind, I figured I’d bring some of the warm up into the work, and since we all know just how much I love doing the voice that Kevin Michael Richardson perfected on The Cleveland Show, I felt there was no better choice than to go with my Favorite Cleveland JR song Balls Deep.
That song is fucking hilarious and you need to search it on YT.
For the image, I took my inspiration from the episode/song itself and made a picture that in some way resembles a ball pit.

Cooking Show: Cooking shows are every fuckin’ where, man.
You flip the channel any which way and you have some goofy asshole in a hat telling you how you cut an onion wrong.
So there’s that.

Joker: As said previously, I love my Joker voice.
I imagined this segment as “The Joker enters the house in the pilot of his own sitcom finding Harley right where he left her…tied to a chair for the last 4 hours”.
Not sure if anything similar to that came across, but that’s what it’s meant to be.


Porn/Close: Besides everything listed above, this segment was the biggest pain in the dick.
The editing on it was a headache because for some reason I could not get that porn audio to work right.
As you’ll notice if you really pay attention to it, my part of the porn audio starts really loud then fades to nothing and Shari’s does the exact opposite, starts at nothing then ramps up to a huge crescendo.
What I was trying to do with it was layer them evenly so we both maintained a consistent volume.
If you don’t mind me getting technical, the way it should work is I lay her audio into the timeline with a photo that doesn’t matter so I can publish it as a video.
Then I take the video version of her audio and lay it into the audio portion of the timeline, lay my version into the audio portion of the timeline, edit and sync my audio to fit with hers, then publish that as a video to have our audio perfectly in alignment and lay it into the Official video’s timeline as audio…but no matter how many times I tried this process (which, trust me, is way easier than it sounds) it would not fucking work!
I later got it to work flawlessly in the ending of Dumbass Poets Society 3: The Return, but back to Channel Surfing, I kept trying like a bastard with no result.
So with the deadline looming, I took the lazy way out and just slid her audio file on top of my own which created the cheap fade.
This is one of the very few things that I would go back a fix George Lucas style if I could, because it really bugs the fuck out of me cause I know I can do it better with a little more time.

Credits: Here, just for shits and giggles, I felt it appropriate to revisit Reverend Tim 1 last time for a wee bit more fun.
Then, as my credits and thank you’s rolled, I decided to give @Woody_TESDFan and the @Shoothemoonband gang one more chance to shine and played a bit more of Part Of Life.
Thanks for the great song, lads!


And that’s it gang!
That’s the entire breakdown for this behemoth!
Since you’ve all made it this far, I’ll give you the inside scoop on the next Typecast!
If you follow me on twitter (@ThatScoobyDoom & @TSDJAProduction) you’ll know I’ve been teasing that it would be late this month because it’s being “worked on”…that’s because Typecast 16 will be another PODCAST!!!
That’s right kids, @Fitzman73 is hard at work editing our next conversation together.
Look for it real soon!

Screencaps provided by @ThatJoser and @JoinedToFollow.

Share this post on Twitter with the hashtags #HowItHappened and #ChannelSurfing.

And finally!
The world is a hellish place full of a lot of assholes, do whatever is within your power to combat those pricks and spread a little bit of joy.
You never know how much it can help.
Thank you for reading, I’ll see you real soon right back here!

Don’t Go Down There, Part 4

As you all know by now, many months ago I gave myself a little challenge.
I wanted to write something truly horrific, fucked up, disgusting, and weird.
This is the product of that self challenge.

What follows is Part 4 of what was originally planned to be a 3 Part story, if you all like this story I may turn it into a series of videos, audio drama style, some day.

You can read Part 1 at this link:

You can read Part 2 at this link:

And you can read Part 3 at this link:

If you want more, don’t be shy!
The only ways for that to happen is for you to let me know in the comments below or through tweets and retweets.
Any encouragement leads to more.

Without further ado, Please Enjoy Part 4 of Don’t Go Down There!

His eyes snapped open, the light was still shining down the steps.
“How long was I out?” He wondered with an increasing panic
He sat up, almost nervously, the blood was still trickling from the split in his damn head, and holy hell did it hurt!
Then strangely the door slammed shut.
He thought that was awfully damn weird, but He heard no footsteps coming down the stairs so He knew cosmically He had somehow bought Himself some more time.
He brought His hand up and wiped the blood off His neck, it felt slimy, probably the mix of cold sweat and hot blood.

He got to His knees, knowing it was best to try standing slowly, and tilted His head to the side to see if He could hear anybody moving around upstairs, he heard nothing.
Was She just…standing up there by the door?
Was it the kids?
If not, where were the stupid ass kids?
He quietly crawled over to His work bench and started to pull Himself up.
As He put His hand on the shelf underneath it for leverage, His fingers touched something they’d not felt in weeks.
He’d thought He lost it when He’d went into the woods to take those little bastards, that She swore He was related to, camping.
His beautiful handgun.
Shit, He wished now that He would’ve used it on those goddamn little motherf…no, there would be time for that later.
He pulled it off the shelf and put it in His waistband, He’d definitely be needing it.

He put his hand on the gritty surface and pulled Himself, wobbling slightly, and blindly searched for His little pen light to help Him see since he’d stupidly broken the one over the bench.
The floorboards directly above His head creaked, He stopped His search, looked up, and grinned.
It didn’t make a shit lick of difference to Him which one it was, the piece of shit was going to die!
Then the heard the floorboards creak again as whoever it was crept away, all the insulation He’d installed to help deaden the screams did Him a disservice in this case, He couldn’t tell which way They had moved.
He went back to Hiss search and immediately found the little pen light.
After falling and the panic of somebody finding Him in such a weakened state, everything He found brought Him a little slice of childish glee.

The door opened and flooded the stairs with light again, the light switch flicked on then off with no result, He was ready now!
He wrapped his fingers aroung the grip of His gun.
Then the most unexpected thing happened, the cutest, most beautiful little voice called down to Him.
“Honey, are you down there? Is anybody here?”
He pulled His hand off the gun in a heartbeat, He relaxed, cleared His throat, and replied.
“Yes baby, bring a light and come on down. Close the door too.”
She was THE ONLY ONE He allowed down here, He actually liked this one, She had showed great potential.
“The overhead still flickers, but plug it in anyway.” He told Her as She made Her way down the steps.
He turned the little penlight on and found a roll of paper towels to wipe His head.
Admittedly, She had seen Him in some pretty bad spots before, but He still wanted to look semi-presentable.
The light flicked on, giving the dingy basement that damn rave feeling again, and She made Her way over to Him.

He grabbed Her by the waist, pulled Her close, and stuck His tongue in Her mouth.
Every other girl He’d ever kissed would belittle the way He did it, always with the nagging of “Too much tongue, it’s like kissing a wild snake trying to attack my uvula”, He was lucky to have found someone that liked everything about Him.
“I thought you were them.” He told Her after they’d pulled apart.
She looked Him over for a silent moment before asking “What happened? Why do you look so rough?”, and He told Her as He turned His head and showed Her the gash in His skull.
She turned Him around and walked Him backwards toward the workbench, telling Him to close His eyes and trust Her, which She knew He did with every fiber of His being.
“I wish you would have waited for me, you know I like watching you work. I love watching the dread set into their bodies before you end them.” She told Him as She helped Him hop up.
“It pissed me off, I just lost control, and put my boot through It’s fuckin’ face.”
“Mmmm, how did It taste?” She asked, noticing the impact the topic had on Him.
“So sweet. There was a piece of It’s skull up here somewhere, I lost it trying to cover up.” The tingle had returned in force, the work excited Him for sure, but the recounting of it was where He got His real charge.

As He continued to tell Her what happened, She began cleaning the wound.
Licking the blood and sweat away from around the new hole in His head so She could sew it shut.
“You might need to go move your car, I don’t them to know you’re here. They’ll have to be  back soon. I wanted to see how long this one lasted, but she had to stick her fuckin’ nose where it didn’t belong. I’m tired of it, I’m ending this today.” He told Her.
“Okay, I’ll do it in a few minutes…but can I please see It before I move the car?” She asked, pulling the last stitch of thread through His scalp.
This is why He loved Her, She liked this shit just as much as He did.
He slid off the work bench, picked up His light, and waved Her over to the hole.
She stepped right up to the edge and They shined Their lights down into the shadowy depths, revealing all of His hard work.

The hole was roughly 4 feet wide and the very bottom, which by now was completely covered, was 45 feet under them.
Deep below, it looked like there were close to 3 dozen bodies of all shapes, sizes, ages, and various stages of decay.
The saddest of which was what looked to be a little old lady, her face forever frozen in pain and fear.
It was thrilling for Them both to be seeing them all twisted and contorted at the bottom, it brought back so many great memories of all the time They’d spent together.
Their love was made clear by the fact that She stood infront of Him with no fear that He’d push Her in, and the thought never crossed His mind.
The smell would be vomit inducing for normal beings.
Stagnant water, the coppery scent of blood, numerous voided bowls, and rotting flesh all intermingling in the nose and on the taste buds.
No doubt it took a little time to warm up to it, He thought, but once you did it was rather pleasant.

They stood there admiring it all for a moment “It’s so beautiful.” She said.
He slide His hands around Her waist, pulled Her close, and whispered in Her ear “you know I love you right?” and She turned around, put Her hands on both sides of His face, looks deep in His eyes, and said “And I love you more.” before kissing Him again.
He pulled away from Her after a few seconds.
“Now go move the car. When you come back we can get this all straightened up and get ready to hunt for the next one.” He said as He started guiding Her toward the steps.
She went up the steps and closed the door.
He went back over to the bench and set about His prep work, grabbed two push brooms from His tool storagelocker, connected the hose and drug it over to His corner of the basement.
He went over and picked up the busted TV off the floor and threw it down the whole, after all it was garbage just like They were.

When She came back They got down to business.
They scrubbed the dried and coagulated blood off the floor and washed it down into the pit, then pushed the old rags of the mattress and down the pit they went.
He flipped the matress that He’d kept It on up while She brushed the broken glass off and swept it down the hole, then he gave the matress it’s much needed flip.
He even replaced the light above the bench, but not the seizure inducing rave light.
It took them no longer than 30 minutes to get it all back in order.
The strange rollercoaster ride of emotions of the day was intoxicating, and now the rush of the hunt for a new victim was starting to set in.

The basement door suddenly swung open!
They looked at each other, panic quickly replaced the rush.
They both instinctively crouched down and crept under the staircase.
A woman’s foot stepped down onto the top step.
“Stacey, are you down there?” the woman asked.
“The bitch is back.” He thought as They looked at one another again, He nodded.
“Yeah, Mom. What’s up?” She replied as She grabbed His hand.
“Is…is he down there with you?” the woman quietly asked as they watched her come down the steps slowly, one at a time.
He blood began to boil.
He tilted His head and cracked His neck “Yeah Aunt Sheila, I’m here.” He replied.
Sheila froze on the steps.
“Oh. I’ll come back.” she said.
She wasn’t the most physical woman, old injuries prevented movement at any great speed.
She tried to turn around on the steps, but he put his hand through the steps and grabbed her ankles before she could.
“NO, IT’S OKAY!” He screamed at her “COME ON DOWN!” then He pulled her ankles through the steps, her face hit on a lower step, teeth shattered out of her mouth and flew away.
He looked at Stacey “Go around and grab her arms.” She did.
And just like that, the hunt was over.

To Be Continued…


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And finally!
The world is a tough place full of folks that try to tear you down, combat their shit by trying to boost somebody else up.
You’ll never realize just how much it can help.

Thank you for reading, see you next time.

Abandoned Scooby-Doo Story Part 1 Of 3

I threw it out there on the Twitter last weekend that if this tweet ( got 22 RT’s by Wednesday I’d post a part of a Scooby story I started writing probably close to half my life ago on Sunday September 13th, the 46th Anniversary of the airing of first episode of Scooby-Doo.
Well, it didn’t make it by Wednesday…so I extended it to Thursday…which is a deadline it did make!
So all of you get to read a little summit summit from the ancient TS-D/JA Productions archives.

I’m gonna try to fix some of the spelling as I go, but it’s still not amongst my stronger points. Lol

After the story I’ll try to breakdown a few of the references that I can recall and do a bit of a wrap up.
Please note that I started writing this at a time when I was in a creative low place, I think that’s why everybody sounds so…angry.
Anyway, without any further yappin’ from me, here is part 1 Scooby-Doo And The Curse Of The Football Spectre!

Fred drove the Mystery Machine down the highway in route to the Coolsville Penguins football stadium.
“Freddie, are we there yet?” Shaggy asked.
“We’ll be there in 10 minutes, Shag.” He answered.
“Like, that’s great cause me and Scooby are totally starving back here.
We haven’t eaten in like 2 whole hours!” Shaggy told him.
“Fred, do you know who the Penguins are playing?” Velma asked.
“I think it’s the Buzzards, but they’re Shaggy’s tickets so ask him.” Fred replied.
“Like, yeah man, and did you guys know that if the Penguins win today we get tickets to the Bionic Bowl in 2 weeks.” Shaggy said.
“Hopefully they do win so we get to see Craig Walkerton help the Penguins win the Bionic Bowl!” Fred said.
“Who is Craig Walkerton anyway?” Asked Daphne.
“Well, He’s only the greatest quarterbacks in the history of the RFL.” Fred replied.
“What does RFL stand for Shaggy?” Velma asked him.
“Well, I think it stands for Real Football League or something like that.” He answered.
“No Shag, actually it stands for Regional Football League, not real.” Fred pointed out.
“Like, ya learn something new everyday.” Shaggy said with a laugh.

“So how far are we from the Igloo Dome now Freddie?” Velma asked.
“Just off this exit.” Fred replied as he turned the old van off the highway.
“Well we hope to get there soon so we can chow down on some of that great Stadium food, right Scooby?” Shaggy asked his pal.
“Yeah, yeah, Rot Dogs and Rizza, rummy!” Scooby answered licking his lips.
“Good thing for you two, because we’re here, Gang.” Fred told the moon pulled the Mystery Machine into a parking space.
The Gang all stepped out and began the long walk to the stadium.
They had almost made it to the ticket gate when a man came pushing his way through.
“Excuse me, sorry guys and gals.” Said a tall man in a red flannel shirt and black sweatpants.
“Oh, it’s alright.” Fred said, but the man had already ran too far away to hear it so the Gang continued their walk.

“May I have your tickets, please?” Asked the woman at the gate, with an obvious forced smile.
Shaggy handed them to her and she gave the rest of the Gang a slight look.
She examined the tickets and said “Oh, V.I.P.’s! Well then, up that ramp to the top, two doors down on the right, have a nice day!”
“You too, miss.” Fred said pleasantly.
“Yeah, right!” She said “Around here? Never…” She finished under her breath.
“Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning.” Daphne said as they walked up the ramp to their box seats.

As they made it to the top of the stadium they were met by a man in a black business suit.
“Welcome, my name is Carl Trekwall and I own the Coolsville Penguins. Now one of you must be our contest winner, Mr. Norville Rogers?” He asked peeking at a tiny card in his palm.

Okay, before anybody give me any crap on the name Trekwall, let me explain! Haha
I’m not great at coming up with names.
So, at the time I wrote this I remember searching like a mad man for something to call this dude and I glanced over at my bookshelf.
On the shelf I had 2 X-Men novels: 1. X-Men: Watchers On The Walls
And right next to it 2. Star Trek TNG X-Men Planet X.
So I took Trek and Wall and mixed ’em for this.
Not the best, I know. Lol

Based on how this opens, I think it’s pretty obvious who my main writing influence was at the time.
James Gelsey, the dude @ScoobySnaxCom and I kept talking about in this months Typecast.
I think at one point I actually ran this story by @SpiderScooby hoping we could collaborate on it and post it on his site ScoobyFan.Net, but obviously that didn’t happen for some reason I clearly don’t recall.

The other thing I wanted to point out was the red flannel shirt and black sweatpants.
To some, that may be a very obvious reference, but if not…it’s a very hamfisted nod I threw in to the Hardcore Legend Mick Foley.
No clue, other than I’m a huge WWE fan and I thought it was pretty funny.

Share this post on Twitter with the Hashtags #ScoobyDoo and #TSDJAProductions.

That’s all I have for ya this go round, gang.
Always remember, the world is a tough place full of crappy people trying to tear everybody down.
Combat that by putting some good into the world in anyway you can.
Thank you for reading!