#halloween tank

[shikariiin]

Happy hallowe-

Okay, who's the jackass that misspelled the sign again?!

[octuscle]

Halloween Spirit

Mortimer didn't think much of video games and the like. Like social media, he blamed them for the dumbing down of the population and the success of populist parties. And if proof were needed, his cousin Dylan was proof. Dumb as a bag of

Since he couldn't find a hotel anymore, Mortimer had been forced to stay with Dylan during a conference. They hadn't talked much, Dylan was usually out with his “bros.” At the gym, at the sports bar, at the football game. Mortimer had used the evenings accordingly and cleaned the apartment, which was quite a mess. And when he came home in the evening, he was glad when a little of that cleanliness and order remained. Today he was lucky: the apartment was almost in the same condition as when he left it in the morning. There was only a PSP with a note on the dining room table. In Dylan's clumsy handwriting it said, “Bro, can you help me with the Halloween quiz? I always fail on the first I'll be back at eight, let's go for a steak then.” Mortimer was a vegan. Of course Dylan knew that. Mortimer sighed, took the PSP and sat down on the sofa.

“What is the etymology of the name Halloween?“ Good heavens, thought Mortimer! Is this going to continue at this level? He typed in ‘All Hallows’ Eve.” “Who does the custom of carving and lighting jack-o'-lanterns commemorate (last name, first name)?” Did Dylan really not know that, Mortimer wondered and typed in “Jack Oldfield.” “Wrong” lit up on the display. “The correct answer would have been 'Oldfield, Jack'.” Out of the blue, Mortimer had to burp. Stupid software, he thought. A good AI would have recognized that he had only mixed up the order. He took a sip of cola from the can on the coffee table. ‘On which day do children in Germany traditionally go from door to door collecting sweets?’ Mortimer scratched his head. That was on St. Martin's Day. But when was that again? He typed in “November 11th.” Again, “Wrong! The correct message would have been November 10th.” Mortimer burped again. Hehehe, that was a good one. Came from the chili today. He took a slice of cold pizza out of the box next to him and moved on to the next question. “What is a zombie brain hemorrhage?” Mortimer had no idea. He just wrote “a TV series”. “Wrong, a zombie brain haemorrhage is a cocktail made of peach schnapps, mint liqueur, Bailey's Irish cream and a dash of grenadine.” Mortimer farted. Damn, the chili had been really good. But something else stank too. Mortimer raised his arm. No, that wasn't it. That was honest man sweat. Just the way a man had to smell. Mortimer pushed up his undershirt and scratched his stomach. This game was really boring. “What is the most popular Halloween costume of 2024?” Mortimer didn't feel like it anymore. He would put on his football gear like every year. With that, he could get any guy into bed. Especially the little nerds. They weren't so bad, usually made a real effort in bed… Shit, what was the question again? Okay, so “football player”. “Wrong, the correct answer would have been ‘Shrunken Head Bob’.” Was there another beer in this pigsty, Mortimer wondered. He looked at what other games Dylan had on the PSP. When was the idiot finally coming home? They were supposed to go out for a steak with the guys. Mortimer could definitely use some protein. He flexed his biceps. Yes, the babies needed feeding.

“Bruh, im still stucc in traffic. Ill b home in about a quarter of an hr. Get ready fo' an epic dinner!” Mortimer knew what that meant. He wouldn't need his best buddy Dylan for the next hour. Enough time to play another round of Peace Walker. And then there was finally meat, almost raw, just how Morty liked it best. Hehehe, rare is also good for Halloween. His favorite holiday. But who could come up with such a stupid quiz with smart-aleck questions about it was a mystery to him.

[shanks]

MaeNoo

[everlongpeace]

Messy hair ❤️

[trainsandkitties]

Anyone still remembers Sodor Fallout?

[zvyoshka]

ik halloween was like yesterday but i forgot to post this so heres gordon in his halloween costume bc i feel like he would dress as a lion 🍓

[maxwellscorner]

As years went by, every engine was scared of the moment they wouldn't run anymore

Railways which reused parts of engines beyond repair would soon hear cases of similarly built and unknown locomotives running lost by the smelters and scrapyards they faced their final moments at

Screech noises, screams and cacophonous mechanicals sounds would pest these yards for years to come, they were looking for their parts and would scare shunters of steam and diesel alike

Owners wouldn't mind, thinking it was a silly spooky story or a trick someone was trying to pull on the living engines

[railwaycreature]

Modern living diesels' eyes will turn red when they're put into reverse, and in daytime, this doesn't look that noteworthy. At night, however?

It can be a biiit more unsettling...

[the-quackeroos]

I finally beaten the clock with this page, and Duck and Donald check into an inn. ^^

[angermango]

i was supposed to do this in time for halloween but hallowed ween is eternal ig

[masterj]

Happy Spooky Month :)

[shikariiin]

“It all started with a rotten smell…”

Starting off this October spooky season with a Junji ito parody !

[octuscle]

Halloween Party - Warrior through cultural appropriation

Shit, Jeff thought, Halloween used to be just fun. Now it was first of all a huge effort to find the perfect costume, to shape your body to match the costume. And then you look so good that you would like to fuck yourself, then there are a couple of killjoys outside on the street in front of the Frat House, berating you because your costume is a cultural appropriation and a sign of digital imperialism. Shit, who even comes up with such bullshit terms? Today was about getting drunk, having fun. And at the end of the evening, to end up in bed with a hot guy. Halloween was not a lecture in sociology or ethnology or whatever the shit was called.

After he had removed the traces of the eggs that had been thrown at him, Jeff was ready for his appearance. He knew he was damn hot. He had an awesome body. His tattoos looked almost real. And in his shorts with the Hawaiian pattern, his cock was in joyful anticipation of the highlight of the party. Only in his head did he feel somehow… cloudy… One of the activists in front of the Frat House had sprayed a gas in his face. Jeff had thought it was pepper spray. But it was something completely different. It made him feel good. Like he had smoked pot. It was weird. But it was Halloween. No showing weakness now! He practically had a duty to party tonight. A guy asked him if he wanted a drink. Did Jeff know the guy… Seemed somehow familiar. But the guy was obviously a local. He replied that he didn't have a coconut milk. The guy laughed out loud and punched Heff in his impressive pecs. “Hey, costume of the day definitely goes to this guy. Coconut milk! I'm cracking up! And the guy even has the accent down pat.” At least that was what Jeff understood. English was not his mother tongue. Was it not? Or was it? Shit! And what was so funny about coconut milk? He loved coconut milk. Here everyone drank beer or some kind of mixed drinks. The stuff came from the white devils and was pure poison! Hoff collected a few glasses and took them to the kitchen.

“Ia ora na! What would you like to drink?” Honf didn't feel like partying anymore. Somehow he felt more comfortable at the bar. And here it was also easier for him to flirt with the hot guys from the fraternity. True, the guys asked him what he meant every other sentence. But that might not have been because of his French Polynesian accent. The guys were just drunk. And the music was loud. But the work was fun. And more than one guy had made it quite clear to him that they could meet later somewhere in a sheltered place. Poor white devils, he thought to himself. If only they had a rough idea of what kind of beast was hiding in his pants. They would probably have to throw up when they sucked on it. His cock twitched and became semi-erect in his pants.

His name is “Hone.” “Hone” means “warrior.” It's a good name. A buddy of his, whom he had met during his semester abroad at UCSB, was called “Jeff.” He had googled that. “Jeff” meant “God's peace.” A name for weaklings. Hone was no weakling. In Santa Barbara it was the middle of the night, here on Bora Bora the sun had not even set. The white devils were already drinking alcohol. Another sign of weakness. Hone made great cocktails. But he never drank anything himself except protein shakes and coconut milk. Not even on Halloween.

[checrawford]

Happy spooky month, hope you don’t get eaten

[shopwitchvamp]

My little brother has the most -Jester's Privilege- of anyone I know, by far 🃏

These tanks will be available with the rest of the Jester x Wizard drop on October 19th!!

🖤witchvamp.com🖤

[2019mordor]