Face The Facts – Ep. 35: A Very Vivid Halloween IV

Before they were heroes – they were bomb-ass kids!

Hello dear friends! Things have been super scary ever since Monster-Mike and Cthulhu’s reign of absolute terror. While I pray that one day Monster-Mike will see the light and reform from his human-chomping ways, I fear that mercy will never come from a creature as insidious as Cthulhu. If you need a refresher on what happened, you can find one here.

While the beasts run wild, we Rangers have to keep our heads down and maintain low profiles. Honestly, it has been a while since I last held my head up high. And I know it’s been a while since I could call you. And all the things I can remember, as screwed up as it all may seem, the consequences that are rendered…


*A figure appears in the window*

Me: Who’s there?

Klar: Yo, it’s me! Open up, Bro-Ba Fett!

Me: ‘Sup Lamar Bro-dom! What are you doing just standing out there?

Klar: I was on the outside, I was looking in. I could literally see through…

Me: That’s cool, Brosie O’Donell — we got guests though.

Klar: Schway, I’ll grab a brewskie!

Me: Brotacular! Just use a coaster, otherwise it’ll leave a stain…

Sorry about that, where were we? You know what, actually it’s been a while since I first saw you. Remember all of those years ago when you first stopped by? I told you a story that gave you the spooky shakes and the poopy snakes? I always wondered, why do you come back? Was last year’s Halloween tale not nightmarish enough? How many sleepless nights must you endure…

Klar: So I got stuck on an escalator the other day. So scary, right? I was like Cheese Wiz, the power must have turned off! They didn’t get it back on for hours, so I totes missed leg day, Broda!

Me: You mean elevator, right bro?

Klar: Nah brah, escalator. You know, they‘re basically like magical stairs. Like something from Beauty and the Beast, but IRL and no Emma Brahtson.

Me: That was a dope movie.

Klar: Dope! Got furniture cooking meals for you fam! Yo, and Ewan McGregors can sing, bro. He was like “be our guest” and SH-PLOINKO! Dinner be served yo!


Me: Oh, Ewan McGregors! He was in Moulin Rouge though! He was all like “come what may” but he really meant come here, bae!

Me/Klar: Nananananananana, Schwing!

Klar: He was in Star Wars! Talking Wars of the Star?

Me: Yo, you talking the pre-kwels though… the pre-kwels?

Klar: But it was still like KWISHUUUUUUUUU!

Me: VRUMMMUMMMMMMM! FVISHHHH! Anakin do not go to the dark side…

Klar: Nope, prefer being barbequed robot!

Me/Klar: Ewan McGregors is my sh**!!!!

Anyways… Everything is scary. Everything is scary when Cthulhu eats brains. Everything is scary… yada yada, the future of humanity relies on you. Since we are reminiscing about the past and Cthulhu is busy eating the New York Giants, let me tell you about our past. This is a prequel of sorts. An origin story for the greatest heroes of all time.


I do apologize ahead of time, dear reader. This episode of FTF is sure to be so spine-chilling that it could drive you insane. Warning, as with the previous entries, I want to make clear the risk you are taking. I am compelled by cosmic forces to share this story, and like a curse it follows those that dare to read this. Again, my story tells the truth, but the price of reading my honesty may honestly cost you your very soul!

Some time in the 90’s:

There we were, chilling on a typical Saturday afternoon. Klar, Zanahoria, and I were just hanging out doing typical stuff kids that age did when the world hadn’t yet invented the iPhone. We rode bikes, waged war with Nerf guns and Super Soakers, ate Sun Chips because my mom was lame and “healthy.” We had some schway things back then. Times were great, but they were about to get spooky.

Young Me: Cowabunga, dudes!

Young Klar: What up, homeslice? I’m super smart now. I get everything on the back side of a Brain Quest correct!

Young (but infinitely more mature) Zanahoria: The backside is just the answers, numb-skull.

Young Klar: Well you’re just a fart-brain! Sonic Boom!!!

Young Zanahoria: The brain is made of solid matter, and farts are gaseous you dummy. What level of Brain Quest are you even playing?

Young Klar: 2nd grade… mom says I am a very gifted slow learner.

We were meeting up with our friend 2 Stripe, aptly named because he always wore a belt with two stripes. Today was going to be the best. We had loaded up on water balloons and were going to ambush the 5th graders, who were either older than us or younger than us depending on whether or not you rooted for the Cobra Kai in Karate Kid. I even had on war paint!


Young 2 Stripe: What’s the dillio, yo? How sick are you guys of 3rd period with Mr. Thomas? This virtue signaling a$$ clown is the worst teacher in the history of Astoria Elementary. He thinks he is so smart — as if!

Young Me: He keeps telling us to check our privilege. What a donk. We go to public school; state funding checked our privilege!

Young Klar: Yeah, and Jupiter is the biggest planet in the Solar System! Brain Quested! Also Pluto is a planet and was never anything else.

Young Zanahoria: Hey guys, slow down. I think it is time to feed my Tamagotchi.

We pulled over to the side of the road by an abandoned farm house. It looked creepy so naturally, as curious children, we wanted to walk around and explore.


Young Zanahoria: Except me, because I’m smart and prioritize self preservation. I’ll hang out here and keep feeding Puff Puff.

Young Me: Whatever, nerd! Klar, 2 Stripe, let’s go check it out.

We went to go investigate. There appeared to be a red balloon behind some branches. That probably meant it was safe because you only ever see balloons at like, fun parties and stuff. We walked around the outside of the house, but as we got close the balloon floated back behind the house. We followed it…


IT: Come inside and we can have some fun!

Young Me & Young 2 Stipe/Young Klar: AHHHHHHHHHHHH/Balloons float because helium is so lite!!!

We ran for it back to the road.

Young Zanahoria: What happened?

Young Me: Creepy Clown’s going postal, we’ve gotta dip!

We rode away trying to comprehend what we just saw. Why was there a clown? Why was it hanging out there? The chances of kidnapping anybody from such a remote location seems very low. Wait… was it following us?

Young Klar: Guys we should probably tell an adult or something.

Young Me: No way, have you seen Goonies or any other movie with kid protagonists? Adults are always evil and/or incompetent; we have to do this ourselves!


Young Zanahoria: Nope. I’m telling my parents so they can call the police and report a potentially dangerous person.

Young Me: Nah, we’re fine. It’s Halloween guys, everyone is going to be dressed up! Come on guys, the plan!

Young Zanahoria: Wait, so the plan is…

Young Me: We have to go get our stash of water balloons and squirt guns to go ambush the 5th graders.

Young Klar: Who are either younger or older than us based on math! Brain Quested!

Young 2 Stripe: Hooray, I love standing up to/being bullies!

…present aside/

Me: Wait, I feel like the trope doesn’t work if we’re older than them.

Klar: Nah brah, I’ll take care of it.

Me: Schway.

/present aside…

Young Klar: I get picked on by younger smaller kids all the time… beating me at Brain Quest and then taking my grilled cheese.

Young Zanahoria: Why do you give them your lunch if you’re bigger than them?

Young Klar: Nah, see I bet my lunch that I can beat them. I haven’t yet, but I have a gut feeling it’s gonna happen. Some day, when I get older, I’m going to bet on stuff all of the time. I’m going to get good at it too! Like good enough to be on the internet, but like a radio show.

A Mark Cuban Type: Radio on the internet, huh? That’s a three comma idea!


Young Klar: What the hell B, don’t interrupt me, rando! Get bent, mister fairly-young-adult-that-I-group-age-wise-with-all-adults-so-you-might-as-well-be-dead! Anyways homies, you could like, call into my radio show, and I can give you advice on betting and stuff. I’ll call it the Ill-est Super Intelligent Show.

…present aside/

Me: Wait, we met Mark Cuban?

Klar: All I know is, he only likes cars where the doors open up like


/present aside…

Suffering from short term memory loss due to video games and dangerous levels of sugar consumption, we hurried back to our HQ to arm up for the big battle with the 5th graders. It was going to be epic.

Young Me: Dude, my Artic Super Soaker is off the heasy.

Young Klar: Oh snap… that Super Soaker is hella phat!

Young 2 Stripe: It is pretty fly for a white gun. Also you need to check out my pogs collection later! We like this stuff because it’s the 90’s, Pokemon.

There was a scary house up on North Elm that all of the kids loved to walk by on Halloween. We were going to stage our attack there and give the 5th graders the scare of their lives! We got to the house and set up inside.


Things were going as planned. Those little twerps/bullies were going to pay for all of the grilled cheeses they won off of Klar. We were ready to go when we heard something rustling in the back room. As curious children are wont to do, we went to investigate.

It Pennywise1.jpg

IT: Hahahahaha! Come here, boys!


Young Me: Oh snap! Run!

We ran away from the crazy clown. We found a safe room and locked the door. We had to figure out a plan.

Young Klar: According to Brain Quest, people smell poop when they get scared. So that is probably the smell you guys are smelling. Like totally not really poop.

Young 2 Stripe: What are we going to do? I’m freaking out here! AHH! I feel weird, I have to sit down.

Young Zanahoria: Look after him guys, I’m going to check out the window.


All of a sudden the door broke down and IT came through! I tried to think, what would the Ninja Turtles do?

Young Me: Guys, Shredder is a big scary guy with sharp claws, but are the Turtles ever afraid? NO! Because when the evil Shredder attacks, those turtle boys cut him no slack!

giphy (1).gif

Young Me: This stupid clown doesn’t expect us to fight back. Well let’s not cut him any slack. Grab your soakers and let’s ice this mop-head!

We grabbed our water guns and soaked the evil clown. He started screaming. It was working! Soon all of his clown makeup had washed off.


Young Klar: It’s the bad guy from the movie Seven! What the hell man?! What’s in the box? What’s in the BOX!!!

Kevin Spacey: Well that’s exactly what I wanted to share with you, Young Klar.

Young Klar: Oh Cheese Louise!

Young Me: Kick him in the box!

I aimed a well-timed kung-fu style karate kick to the clown’s box. He doubled over in pain, and we made a break for the door. All of sudden police sirens rang out and cops stormed into the house.

Officer Good Guy: Get on the ground, clown! You are under arrest!

Young Me: Wait, the police? How did they get here?

Young Zanahoria: I told you we should call the police, so when you guys were setting up the water balloons, I went to presumably a pay phone or other non-cell tower based telephonic device.

Young Me: Dude, you are so awesome!

I was totally going to AOL instant message her later. We got on our bikes and headed home. We realized 5th graders weren’t the enemy, creepy actors were.

Young Klar: Wait so what was wrong with you 2 Stripe?

Young 2 Stripe: I guess I just went through like accelerated puberty or something. Explains why I have a beard.

Young Klar: That’s cool, bro!

Young Me: Wait… did you say bro? Bet we could totally make that a thing!


Klar: And we did, CasaBrova.

Me: Yeah we totally did, Edgar Allen Bro!


And that is the story of how Klar and I invented the term “bro.” A totally true, not-at-all-made-up story. Moral of the story? Things always work out for the good guys. Also, kids, if you encounter creepy clowns, tell an adult. If they chase you, drop like a sack of potatoes right when they are about to get you. Then, when they trip over you, go over and kick them in the box!

The End

or is it?

Young Zanahoria: Officer Good Guy, did you guys lock up the evil clown guy?

Officer Good Guy: Actually, he had a perfect fool-proof alibi. Nothing to do but let him go. He says he is actually from Skokie, IL. I got a mug from there on my desk. Good people in Skokie. Honest people.


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