Michael Myers
Smith’s Grove, Illinois

Halloween is a fabulous time for the Slayers. Not only do we get to walk the streets of Earth with impunity, but we usually get to pig out on candy when a raid goes down. Sometimes we will dress up.

Last Halloween, I lead a raid in Oklahoma and I dressed up as Master Chief, we are all big fans of Master Chief Theatre 3000. Getting back to the story, we decided to just knock in the door, it being Halloween, and waltz into the targets house when they answered. Jim was at full steam of course, and he was angry that I made him wear the clown costume. I had hoped it would calm him down. I was wrong.

• “This is bullsh*t. This is no costume, it’s an embarrassment. You’re making me pay for my exuberance.” - Jim on the dropship just before the raid.

So, I knock on the door, the target answers, and his mouth drops open at Master Chief, a pissed off clown, and ten Slayers on his porch. I say “Trick or Treat” enjoying the moment and Jim leaps forward and shouts “Trick Motherf***er!”. He then stomps the target into a bloody pulp with his clown shoes. We finished off the rest of the occupants, stole the candy bowls, and burnt the house down.

So, to answer your question, yes, we enjoy Halloween very much.

We have Slayerpalooza!

Keeping Jim and the other Slayers in-line is simple. If they go too far, they are buried alive. This is a practice frowned upon on Earth I realize, so maybe just whack their bottoms with a wooden spoon. If you don’t cook, buy a wooden paddle. They don’t bruise and are good for getting out stress.

I remember I had to move a group of orphaned boys once. We had just decimated their town and I was stuck with escorting thirty brats to the slave ship. They started acting up along they way, so I took the one who was acting up the most and quickly buried him alive in front of the other children. I uncovered him in about 30 seconds, but he got the point and I didn’t have anymore problems out of the children.

Brisbane, Australia

The Slayers traverse the universe inside The Black Fortress, (see Krull) we do not use Flash Gordon style transportation. Of the artists you named, I would go with Afrika Bambaata.

However, those don’t really cut it for us. I pick the music before the raids, as I am the Propaganda Minister for pre-raid preparation and I have to say Rob Zomie’s Supercharger Heaven, American Nightmare and Superbeast have been the favorites lately.

If I think an upcoming skirmish might be difficult, I throw on Skindred’s Nobody. If the circumstances are extreme, then I call upon Battery, by Metallica.

I remember having to bash out a spy’s skull with an ice cream scooper. The thrasing of Battery inspired me to finish the job when my arm got tired. The wailing agony of that man, what a baby he was, crying over such a cool death I gave him. How many can say they were beaten to death by an ice cream scooper? Such originality…

As for Jim, he is into 80’s hair bands. 

The usage of “an historic” is used when the “H” is not pronounced. For example, honest, honor, or hour.

When people say “an historic” and pronounce the “H”, they have gotten it wrong. It should sound “an ‘istoric occasion…”

The use of “a historic” has come about because many earthers do not teach proper English.

For instance, here is a site that justifies the use of ”a historic” because there are more uses of it found on Google. This proves the Internet has made everyone stupid. 

Many will refer to “modern English” as if they have discovered a new way to speak, when in reality, they are just too lazy to learn the proper way.

I remember having this discussion with a school teacher whose home we were raiding. I shouted out “Men! This raid is an historic occasion.”

She fired back “A historic occasion. You should use the modern vernacular.”

Jim lept in forward and tackled her while shouting ”You sow! We speak ”an” vernacular of death!”

She died painfully.

So, the rule is:

Speak how you wish, but do not excuse your low bred vocabulary by saying you are “modern.”

Well Mitch, I am sure black women all over the world are glad to have your “admission” the some of them are hot. They can all get on with their lives now.

The song Black Betty is purported to originally be about a flintlock rifle, later on it was a wagon and then later still, a woman.

As far as your girlfriends insecurity, tell her that her flat wonderbread butt does not compare to the double mocha mountain majesty possessed by so many Earth women.

Billy Bob

AK

No, I am afraid there are no lady Slayers.

This also means we don’t get our fortunes taken from us by a disgruntled females, we don’t get nagged and we don’t get put in jail for phony complaints. Is not the life of the Slayer grand?

We reproduce as all bi-pedals, but I shall not reveal the darkest secrets of the Slayers.

(I will say this, some of the “breeder” captives have told me that Jim always leaves his socks on.)

Barb in FL

The Earthlings proclivity to usher vermin into their homes is unique in the galaxy. No place in the universe has peoples who love and cuddle rodents like the Earthers do. This has led me to believe that the hamster has hypnotic powers over human beings.

“Observe my hamster powers human filth!

You shall feed me.

You shall clean my poop.

You will love me, though I will use you.

You are slave to the Ham.”

The pros:

Hamsters only live two to three years.

They don’t bark.

The Cons:

Hamsters only live two to three years, long enough for kids to develop a broken heart.

They don’t bark. Some people like this. Especially burglars and other human waste.

They bite you and your kids, not the burglars.

If you don’t clean the cage, it stinks.

Work for reward ratio is a raw deal. You take care of it until it dies and it gives you nothing in return.

The verdict: If you want one more thing to take care of, get a hamster.

I remember laying waste to family years ago and all they had in the house was a hamster. I ate it, right in front of their children.

Good thing for us Slayers they didn’t have a dog.

The effect of a moustache on the masculine ego is a question for the ages. In my intergalactic travels, I have seen no better combat accessory than the moustache.

This fashion craze was popularized on Earth by the egomaniacal warlord Hitler.

• 
• Hitler; From Dirty Sanchez, to just plain dirty lip.

The Hitler Warlord fell into disfavor along with his moustache. This provided no end of amusement to the pseudo-intellectuals who then put the villainous ’stache upon those they deem evil…

• 
• Here, the Warlord Bush is sporting the evil moustache.

This brings us to Robert Mugabe. Mr. Mugabe has expressed admiration for the efficacy of Hitler’s policies.

Therefore, he has appropriated a version of the tryannical moustache, hoping to cash in on its mystical powers.

• 
• Robert Mugabe; he missed a spot.

There is little doubt that the moustache lends special powers to the masculine being.

Among Slayers, this is settled science. Seeing that we cannot grow moustaches, we rip them off the men we encounter and fashion our own. Here are some examples:

• 
• This is the Dirtiest Sanchez, an all-time favorite for raids.

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• 
• Here’s Jim with the Groucho Glasses. He says they are Hitler glasses but I keep telling him Hitler didn’t wear glasses. “He does now, Bitch!” is always the retort. Oh well… 

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• 
• This is me with Big Red.

When I don Big Red, my soul is on fire.

I remember once killing a baker. He was covered in flour, kneeling on the floor of his shop. I started throwing stuff around and shouted “Where are the f***ing raspberry cookies? I want some f***ing raspberry cookies!” He started to blubber and could not speak so I screamed “Pay homage to the Big Red moustache. Pay homage to the Big Red you maggot!”

He really let go then, because he had never been attacked by an alien with a glued on red moustache and I could tell it was harming his sanity. I killed him before he lost his grip on reality, but I never forgot the effect of the moustache.

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The wheezing lead singer of Weezer is a sad example of what passes for a man on your planet today.

He is a victim of estrogen pollution.

Across the galaxy there is an epidemic of declining masculinity. Manly singers are slowly losing their balls. This is due in large part to the estrogen intoxication that permeates the entertainment industry.
The sickness of estrogen intoxication is particularly devastating to the natural man. It causes overly critical introspection, emotional outbursts and endless blathering due to heightened insecurity.
These conditions lead to the medical condition “Testiculum Reductus.”
Even masculine icons like Tom Jones have gone soft. James Brown is dead.
The last outpost of the manly singer is Country Music.
Alan Jackson, Trace Adkins, Daryl Worley, Phill Vassar and Toby Keith to name a few.