Kim Skelton is a publisher of the most, and best bone chilling Author's. If it brings you to the edge or out of your mind; this queen of gruesome groove will put it in a bind. When her assistant Oliver runs an unusual manuscript by her desk she laughs it off with; "too funny Ollie, felt-tipped pen, next they'll try to wow me with crayon!" No stranger to the gimmicks of word-drones; Kim Plops down in her lounger ready to take someones adrenaline rush for a spin. " Tingle." How very 80's Her mind's chuckle turns into a choke spitting iced coffee she blinks away stinging tears. Ollie's skip-gallop into the room would've made her force a rouge grin to the shade of a smirk, but this wasn't a time for smiles in any form: "Mrs. Skel- " Read this author's name, she commanded in a scratched tone. " Ellie Riley, should I know the name?" "No," she said. "Kim are you o.k., you look sick. Mom can Ty. and I go play- "Yeah, actually Ollie I'm not feeling too great. what do you say to shuting it down a little early?" "Sure.." As Kim grabs her purse from the coat rack Oliver says, " After every creep feast your eyes consume you either give out your home-run grin, or dish out a jaw clinch that the reaper would fear; why so spooked by a name?" "Mom can Ty. and I play at the school?" " She wanted to be a writer." "Who?" "What oh nothing; see you tomorrow. Any Reply was lost as she rushed out the door thinking about a daughter departed, and the son still here because of a sacrifice. Memory lane came to a halt as she turned her key. There it was laying on the dash-board, Ellie's book...
Coming Next on Kim's Killer adventures...
E.T. Tyler's "Big sister."
E.T. Tyler's "Big sister."
Working on the latest version of Jump Track; Tyler Skelton's fusteration is building: you've scanned all the graphics onto the format, everything's there- Now, make it interesting. When he signed on to design Jump Track they had warned him about hitting the wall, "You'll get burned out; I'd pass." Let'em think that, those crank low-ball producing slummes. He'd designed different games before, you needed to punch your mind's throttle up a notch to curve around boredom, but he loved racers: The sound of simulated tire squeals, thrilling races against a merciless clock, or a challenger; nothing was better than making someone flame-out. Well, except beating your own track. That's what Tyler was doing (or trying to do), construct pieces for gamers so each could build his or her own experience; their own world. Ping! "Looks like I'm needed on messenger." His rough voice gave him a jolt, weird he wasn't totally stressed. Opening the window; he reads this: " What's up bub? Want help? Then turning confusion into an Icy creeping finger; "I guess E.T's back in action." E.T., only four people knew the meaning of that abbreviation, and two were dead. Feeling separated from himself Tyler crashes into a time cyclone; becoming nine again. " You know what would make this track better Ty.?" Ellie had her planning look on, the look he liked best. " What?" He asked. "Buildings" "That's not a choice; want to put in another jump?" First, yes, and second, wouldn't it be cool if it was?" Tyler loved hangin with Ellie cause she got some crazy idea's, (It had been awesome making a potion) but sometimes she pushed it too much. "Ellie where do you come up with this stuff?" pointing to her head she said, "the mind travels little brother." " Hey, E.T. lunch." In Zombie tone both say, "Yes... Father..." Tyler's Dad grins, "You two are wacko; Kim do you know we have coocoo's in the house?" " Yep, must've caught it from you." After lunch, Ellie writes in her note book while Tyler looks at his trading cards. " Dang, I'm missin Sythem; whatcha drawen?" " Nothing, I'm writing." Laughing slightly, he asks; " With a felt-tipped pen?" " It looks cool, and besides you know I can't draw worth a crud; I figured I'd mix things up." " Oh, whatcha writin then?" " A plane for a new racing game." Ping! The twenty-five year old version of Tyler Skelton's heart stutters with the fright of his nine year old self. " Snap out of it goof, I want to play." With that Tyler knew again what all children know when they feel the Tingle of pure terror... " It's time to call mom."
Coming Next to Unscripted: The shared sorrow of memory lane.