Blog Fan Mail

Our Very First Fan mail!

Despite only having two episodes released and a lackluster editorial calendar, someone is already smitten with Real Horrorshow. He gave me permission to share the letter with the rest of our readers to encourage others to send in their own in the future.

Cheers,

Sam


Real Horrorshow,
Long-time listener, first time commentator.
You ladies are beautiful. Just beautiful. It’s always a treat to see women doing good things for themselves, being successful. The world makes it difficult for them. I prefer listening to them, interacting with them, they have a very gentle and patient presence… unlike men. Men are abrasive. They make me anxious. When I go out, to the store, or maybe to get some clothes, and I see a woman cashier, or manager, or whatever– just a woman succeeding, I make sure to talk them and make them feel good. I feel it is the least that I can do. They are the gateways to life. They should be honored. Do you both feel honored? Do you both feel treated with respect?
Sometimes on social media I see women that make me sad. Because they tell me that as a man they don’t want me to help them, or acknowledge them. My eyes well-up. Just well-up. I’m trying to help. I know how to help. In fact, I’ll tell you about how much I love women.
When I was in high school I mostly kept to myself. At lunch sometimes I would see this girl with auburn hair and glasses confined to a wheelchair. Her legs were shorter than the rest of her body and her face slightly malformed but I couldn’t describe exactly how. Her face was gentle she always seemed like she was smiling. Kids didn’t talk to her, boys especially. Eventually while in line I managed to talk with her, she could form words OK but even if she couldn’t I made sure to exert absolute courtesy and patience. She is a person after all.
I couldn’t get her out of mind. What a tragedy that a woman has a tough lot and can’t exude beauty. I thought she was beautiful, sure, but others wouldn’t. That saddened me. Eventually I learned her name, April, “April Showers” as I started calling her to make her laugh. From that time in line forward I wanted to make April happy. I would write her cute notes or draw her cute pictures and make sure she got them in her special class at the school, or during lunch. And she would giggle! Seeing her giggle made me do the same. April Showers was bringing me May Flowers.
After school one day (I had let some time go by) I asked her if she wanted to come with me to my favorite hang out spot, an old garage building I used to play in as a boy, some ways from the school building, in a part of town not occupied anymore so that we could have privacy. She was hesitant, politely, at first. Poor girl had almost no experience with men. I gladly walked alongside her bulky wheelchair as we strolled (as well as she could “stroll,” I’ll admit) to the garage place. I needed my surprise for her to be executed so reluctantly gave her a drink of my Fiji water with sedatives in it just so she could be asleep while I made preparations.
I’ll be honest with you when I say that pulling all of this off was difficult. I did, but it’s the poet’s secret how it came together, what arrangements I made. Despite the condition she was in, she was kind of cumbersome to move out of the wheelchair and on to the table but I managed to do it. Boy she woke up surprised!!!
I had managed to use surgical tools to remove her legs as best as I could, and replace them with two large stilt-like appendages, making her even taller than me if she stood. The necessary wounds weren’t as clean as I was hoping, as I had practiced, but the medical sedatives I got made sure she was in no pain while her new form was incubating. I was little taken aback because when she woke up, she screamed. I assured her that she would be OK. Her body was perfect now. She could be like everyone else. I told her her body was clean enough now to eat from. She kept crying and kind of screaming and didn’t believe me so I wanted to prove it to her, so I took some sauce and some noodles and some peppers, and I mixed them gently in her genitalia. Got a little messy but I swished them around with chopsticks and leaned my head forward to eat them and suck them out through her hips. Tasted pretty great I think the salt from her sweat added some flavoring. I licked and got it all out and the chopsticks did the rest, I even did “choo-choo hear comes the train” to make sure she could try some. I hope her new legs are doing wonders. I even helped her be a woman. I fondled her parts a bit, we had talked about maybe going there, I kind stuck my wiener in after we ate, made sure she felt it, felt loved and she had been rendered sleepy from the shock of my love and devotion and care.
Do you believe me that I love women? I hope that you both continue your success. I want to come prove how much I care for you girls, even though we have never met. I’ll be watching. I hope you feel honored.
-Anonymous

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