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It was a chill night.  Just me and a couple of friends who went out after basketball for some drinks at the local pub.  It had the feel of an “old man bar,” a bar where old men can get drunk and wallow in their sorrows.  Definitely my type of bar.

In any case, we played a game called “AlaBubba.”  For this game, you have to call a random venue in Alabama (using yellow pages or internet etc.) and ask for “Bubba.”  If the speaker transfers you to Bubba, you drink a shot.  If the speaker asks “Which one?,” you drink a shot.  If the speaker himself is Bubba, then you have to drink two.  In theory this game was amazing, but after a couple of unsuccessful rounds, we gave up and made up our own rules.

We were very content in all our merry making until I notice this decrepit old lady at the far end of the bar move one stool closer.  No big deal. After another beer, I noticed that she was inching closer ever so slowly.  I rubbed my eyes to make sure I wasn’t seeing things but when I opened them again, I was face to face with Grandma Death.

Words cannot describe the level of disgust and fear that I felt at this current moment.  All I could feel were the cold chills running down my spine.  It took me a couple seconds to realize that those chills were triggered by her bony fingers caressing down my back.  Wtf indeed.

Struggling to maintain my composure, I politely asked “Umm, excuse me can I help you?”

She replied in a raspy lung cancer patient-like tone, “Hey there, I got what you need.”

Fuck the what?

“I’m sorry lady, I don’t know what you are talking about, whatever it is that you got, I definitely don’t need.”

Completely oblivious to my obvious distaste, she put on a creepy smile that would make the Joker look like Hello Kitty, and repeats “Cmon, I got what you need.”

Positioned next to me was my friend Kel’Thuzad.  He instinctively saw what was happening and proposed a cigarette break.  Now I normally don’t smoke, but at this point I would have injected heroin into my ass to get away from the cryptcougar.

As me and Kel’Thuzad went outside, laughing about how insanely odd that situation was, we heard footsteps behind us.  Grandma Death had followed us out.  I exchanged a holy shit glance with Kel’Thuzad.  We were trapped.

“Do you boys have a light?” she cackled.

Kel’Thuzad politely pulls out his lighter and sparks her cigarette.  With her drunken persistence, she motions for us to come closer.  In her best impression of the cryptkeeper she says, “Listen boys, I tried to buy everyone at the bar a round of drinks, but the bartender cut me off.  It’s okay though, I got what you need.” Now I knew the bartender, and she was pretty cool.  It was apparent that she had cut off Grandma Death because she was absolutely wasted and probably lacked a spare liver.

With backup from Kel’Thuzad, I tell her off.  “Listen lady, there is nothing in this world that you got that we could possibly need ever.  You are fucking creeping us out.” With that, I flicked my cigarette onto the ground and headed back into the bar.

When we reconvened with the group, we shared this story with our friends, including the bartender, and explored the different possibilities and potential benefits of giving in to Grandma Death’s offer.

Dear God,

I know I’ve been praying for a white girl for the longest of time, but what kind of sick joke is this?  You are fucked-up in the head and I hate you.

Love,

Andrew

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3 Comments

  1. didn’t you watch Drag Me to Hell? when the old crypt lady was denied her loan at the bank, she casted a fkin curse on the woman. God Bless you indeed lol.

  2. Wow. Words cannot express how both randomly-hilarious and creepy this is. I’ve had random old men come up and grab my ass, but this tops that and probably any other situation i might have including geriatric men.

    She would’ve tried to woo you to her gingerbread house to fatten you up and eat you.

    God tends to have a very strange sense of humour. I feel your pain. haha!

  3. id rather get dragged through hell than hook up with grandma death


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