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Dear Modster Monster,
Count Dratulot
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I have a BONE to pick with you. I have been recently INFIRMED that on your
television broadcasts of "The Modster Monster's Scare-O-Rama Movies", you
have been making GRUEL remarks about myself and my show, "Count Dratulot's
Chilling Horror Showcase." While you have not correctly named myself nor my
program, it is transparent as a ghostly apparition who and what your
references to a "Count Drunkula's Snoring Borer Pillowcase" are directed
toward!
I will have you know, my FIEND, that I have been enterTOMBing, telEVILision
viewers in our station's broadcast range for the last 30 years. My movies
and my horror hostlery are not boring nor sleep-inducing, but instead a
treasured part of our viewers' habits. Let's see if you're still on the
SCARE in 30 years or back flipping burgers like you belong. Leave the
horror hosting to the GROAN ups!
What's more, the "Drunkula" name is a particularly cheap shot, considering I
have been sober for the past three years and have not appeared inebriated
while on the air in the last five.
SIN-cerely yours,
Count Dratulot
Channel 13
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Dear Count Drunkula,
The Modster Monster
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Whoa, Daddio! Looks like your friend the Modster Monster hit a nerve-o!
Sorry to wake you from your nap! Fair warning: there's a new, hip young
horror host making the scene and his name is the Modster Monster! There's
only room for one of us in this market and I aim to make sure that's me, me,
and me!
And, I dig that it's been five years since you were last drunk on the air,
but it was such a spectacular blowout that it's still fresh in everyone's
memory, man. It's not everyday you see an old guy in a cape loudly slurring
out that he really is a vampire and that he can prove it by turning into a
bat, at which point he strips naked and runs around the studio flapping his
arms with his eyes shut. That was real gone, man.
where it's at,
The Modster Monster
Channel 47
PS: The only thing older than you are your awful puns. Give it a rest!
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DREAR Modster Monster,
Count Dratulot
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ClERIEly, you have much to learn about how to be a Television horror host.
First of all, creepy puns are a compulsory part of the job. Modern day
slang is no replacement for the good old-fashioned surprise of saying
"ghoul" instead of "cool" or "vampire" instead of "camp fire."
Secondly, today's sorry EXECUTEses for horror movies cannot hold a
candelabra to the cell(YOUR SOUL TO THE DEVIL)uloid masterpieces of
yesteryear! Your selections of movies like Bloodbath A-Go-Go,
Sleeping Bag, Blood Sack, and Fork In the Eye are far inferior
to the classics we can afford like Frankenstein's Second Cousin,
The Mummy Rests, and Phantom of the Bingo Hall. Quickly cut
shots of bloody dismemberment, disembowelment, and forks jabbed in people's
eyes lack the pure artistry of terror that is a lingering shot of a dusty
mummy frighteningly sleeping completely still in his tomb. You should really
still quit while you are... A HEAD!
Also, if you PERFORATE (instead of perform, I'm not sure that one was clear)
one more skit about me accidentally throwing up on children during a grocery
store ribbon cutting, you will be hearing from my attorney... OF DOOM!
GRAVEtiously yours,
Count Dratulot
Channel 13
PS: Instead of saying "give it a rest" you should have said "give it a
rest... IN PEACE!"
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Dear Count Drunkula,
The Modster Monster
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Like WOW, man. You are real gone! I do think your movie selections provide
a valuable service, though, grandad. I caught The Mummy Rests on
your show last week and it finally cured me of my insomnia!
My movies provide the fright that's right to shake you all night! Awoooo!
The greater metropolitan area has a tuned in to the voice of a new
generation, pops! You are as out as a jack-o-lantern that hasn't even been
cut yet, man.
awoooo,
The Modster Monster
Channel 47
____________________
Attn: Jeffery Wilson, Channel 47
The enclosed letter was bequeathed to you from the estate of Reginald
Paulson with instructions that it be delivered to you on this night
(Halloween), unopened. Mr. Paulson was found dead in his bedchamber two
nights ago, the cause of his death has not yet been discovered.
Sincerely,
Arthur Hawke
Cranson, Hawke, Greenberg, and Hawke, attorneys
Dear Modster Monster,
If you are reading this, I am already dead. I'm not sure it's going to
happen this year, but if it does I do think I should fully prepare things so
you'll know the truth.
The truth is, I do not hate you. The truth is, I actually found your "Count
Drunkula" sketches somewhat amusing. After all, I've been confident that my
drinking has been under control for some time now, and I've made piece with
myself over that.
Count Dratulot
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I started drinking in the first place to escape the pain of my wife's death.
After so much pain and so many losses over the years, that was the one that
finally, utterly broke my spirit.
But I'm getting ahead of myself. Here is the point: It all started with the
first local horror host, Dr. Ghoulash, back in the late 50s on channel 63.
I'm told he was an ornery, mean-spirited primma donna who was very cruel to
his staff. One day, they were shooting some intros while a horrible
thunderstorm raged outside. The station's weatherman warned potential
tornados, but Dr. Ghoulash wouldn't let his staff close up and take cover in
the basement. Sure enough, a tornado arrived that tore the roof off the
station. Debris and equipment was tossed around the station and lightening
burst through the gaping hole that was once the roof. Every single member
of the crew died that day. Only Dr. Ghoulash himself survived.
The lighting director was the last to die. As he took his final gasps of
life, he spent them placing a curse on Dr. Ghoulash, and on all the horror
hosts who would follow him in the tri-county area.
My predecessor warned me. The Ghastly Gent of Channel 17 was a master of
the macabre onscreen and a fine, generous man off. He told me how the curse
had destroyed his life and everyone he cared about during his reign as the
local TV horror host and that it would do the same to me. I was young and
brash and foolish then, like you, and I wouldn't hear it. Oh God, how many
nights have I wished I could go back and take his advice!
He died after my first year on the air. Since then, I have lost my beloved
dog Sagebrush, 27 relatives of various connections, all of my closest
friends, my hair, my teeth, my home, all in strange and eerie circumstances
that would take too long to detail here.
I hadn't listened to The Ghastly Gent, since I believed then he was trying
to scare me off because I was competition. I knew you would not listen to
me for the same reasons. So, instead, I tried to get you to quit using
intimidation, condescension, and threats. I see now that those methods have
failed as well.
If you are reading this, I am dead and the curse is now yours, my young
friend. I am sorry I couldn't help you. I know you're not big on carrying
on traditions of our field, but this is one you're going to have to carry on
whether you like it or not.
sincerely,
Reginald Paulson
(Count Dratulot)
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