Ever writer at some point or other gets that horrific blank brain when they
sit down to write and all they can do is stare at the blank page. In the writing
world apparently they call this little mishap a brain fart, or the midnight
disease. An author named Jack Jones is going thru this disaster at the moment
and it doesn't look to promising!
His writers block is leaving him depressed and drowning himself in the
booze. Just when he is going to give up writing for good someone leaves a
present for him at his front door. It's a jar of blood. Now I don't know about
you, but my ass ain't touching shit with someone elses blood in
So after some staring and debating he decides to crack that bitch open. This
zombie like chick appears and it's like I dream of Genie in a perverse sort of way- well maybe not.
So the living dead girl sits down and proceeds to type him up a new killer
story! Man, how could Jack of stuck it so damn lucky?
Soon the jar is empty and if there's no red, her typing becomes dead. Now the
tables have turned and he has to fill the bottle back up- by whatever means
necessary. Jack now is murdering people and for what? Yup, a best selling novel.
Do you think after all this he'll manage to be around to even enjoy it?