Ebola Saves the Planet! and Other Wholesome Tales

By Matthew A. Clarke

A man gets a ticket to a popular gameshow and is willing to risk life and limb to go home with the prize.

A family tries to survive in a world where gravity is reversed and explosive balloon animals rule the streets.

A new epidemic hits the world. People are spontaneously erupting into mound of steel coils, b

• Language: English
• Publisher: Planet Bizarro
• Release date: Nov 9, 2022
• ISBN: 9781915546210

Matthew A. Clarke

Matthew A. Clarke writes horror, bizarro, and anything in between.He has authored and self-published two novels and three novellas, where he explores themes of loyalty and acceptance. He has also had many short stories published, ranging from humorous to the horrific.

Book preview

Ebola Saves the Planet! and Other Wholesome Tales

Matthew A. Clarke

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Planet Bizarro Press

Copyright © 2022 by Matthew A. Clarke

Cover by Adrian Medina

All rights reserved.

No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the publisher or author, except as permitted by copyright law. Any resembelance to persons living or dead is purely coincedental.

Contents

1. Best Birthday Ever!

2. Chapter 2

2. Balloon Party

3. Chapter 3

3. Mortal Coil

4. Chapter 4

4. Button Girl

5. Chapter 5

5. Room for Two

6. Chapter 6

6. Ebola Saves the Planet!

7. Chapter 7

7. Quasimodorhome

8. Chapter 8

8. Dead Gorgeous

9. Chapter 9

9. Snail Boy

10. Chapter 10

10. Pinocchio the Wooden Hoe

11. Chapter 11

11. The Golden Ticket

12. Chapter 12

Afterword

Acknowledgments

About the Author

Also Available from Planet Bizarro

Best Birthday Ever!

Wilson’s fiancée had surprised him with two seats for the live studio audience of Scratch and Sniff, his favourite show, for his thirtieth birthday. It was a huge part of his life; he’d never missed an episode. But to be called down to the stage to compete? Well, it was nothing short of life changing.

Go on, Honey, Jennifer said with a gentle nudge, I’ll be right here cheering you on.

The audience roared as Wilson stepped his way along the line of fold-up chairs and down the center aisle to the studio floor. Laars Meltskin, the enigmatic game host, patted him on the back like an old friend as he took his place alongside him. And your competitor this evening is . . . JONNY FIVEFINGERS. Come on down, Jonny!

Wilson scanned the crowd anxiously. A towering figure rose from the muddle of screaming faces to the far left of the room. The man making his way across to the stairs looked as if he were ripped out of a swimsuit catalogue. He was tall, blonde, and shirtless, with nipples that looked as if they were made for urethral dilation. Wilson was unsure as to why that was the first thing to come to mind but figured he would package that little thought away at the back of his mind until he was alone later.

Pleasure, Fivefingers said, shaking Wilson’s outstretched hand before turning to shoot finger guns to the audience. Several bras hit the ground about his feet, one of which looked a lot like one of Jennifer’s.

Meltskin slicked back his pink mohawk with a gloved hand and brought the mic up in front of his dazzling teeth with the other. Welcome, both of you, to Scratch and Sniff. I’m sure you already know the rules, but we’ll go over them briefly for the folks at home. A large LCD panel dropped from the rafters, suspended by two chains. It displayed a cartoon woman with both hands outstretched toward the camera. For every point scored, you will be awarded one finger, up to a maximum of ten. The cartoon woman beamed as extra fingers popped into existence between her regular digits, one by one. But if you give a wrong answer. . . The video played in reverse.

The contestant with the most fingers at the end, wins! Let’s take a look at tonight’s grand prize. With a flamboyant flick of the wrist, the panel shot back up into the gloom and a silk curtain toward the back of the studio opened to reveal a spinning podium.

The audience gasped in approval. Wilson looked to Jennifer and saw she was trying to contain her excitement for his sake, but failing. A wide smile stretched her features from ear to ear, framed by the pale, long fingers pressed against either side of her face. She shook the elderly woman’s hands off of her then sent Wilson a you-got-this nod.

That’s right, folks. Tonight’s lucky winner will be going home with a state-of-the-art cheese grater and a wheel of mature Frayton cheddar. Meltskin held a hand up to hold off the applause. But that’s not all!

Wilson felt sweat beading along his forehead. He hoped the cameras weren’t able to pick up on it.

The winner will also get backstage access to the Frayton Cheese Mill and have a life-sized cheese mold of themselves made to take home with them.

The ‘applause’ light was redundant after dropping that bombshell. Several members of the audience swooned and passed out while the rest broke into a Mexican wave. A young boy with a shaved head jabbed his thumbs into both eyes while performing a flawless riverdance.

After several minutes, the audience became a little more subdued (those that were out of control were subsequently tasered and removed) and the show was able to proceed.

Lars informed the contenders that the first round would be ‘Scratch’. This segment would vary from week to week to ensure competitors were not able to watch previous shows to gain an advantage. The previous week tasked the participants with scratching their way out of a nailed coffin with a limited air supply. It was a short episode; neither had made it out in time.

A small opening appeared in the floor in front of Meltskin, from which a table was raised. Meltskin took one of each of the small metal devices from it and handed them to Wilson and Fivefingers. It was at this point that Wilson noticed he had a rather unfair handicap. Fivefingers had five fingers on either hand, and a thumb. He already had a two-point lead.

Don’t worry, we’re not going to make you shoot each other, Meltskin laughed as the two inspected the curious devices. A golden star has been placed somewhere on your person. Use these metal detectors to find it before your opponent. But be warned, there are also several red herrings. For each object you uncover that is not the golden star, you will lose a point. Any questions? Good. Begin!

Wilson had questions. Plenty of them. But apparently there was no time. He looked to Fivefingers. How could they possibly have a golden star (as well as other objects) on their person when this guy was practically naked? Unless. . .he ran the metal detector along his left forearm and sure enough, it bleeped. Just below the inside of his elbow was a small, raised area that caused the device to scream whenever it was held over it. Fivefingers was peeking into his swimtrunks, visibly confused. Determined to win the initial round and get the upper hand on his opponent, Wilson began to scratch vigorously at the patch of skin with the fingernail of his forefinger he always kept sharp in case a situation such as this may arise. It took a little longer than he had expected, but eventually the red skin began to part and the burning sensation gave way to one of relief. Wilson clasped the detector under his armpit and poked at the small wound until his fingertip made contact with something hard. He pulled it out and saw it was little disc with a smiley face printed on it.

Ooh, that’s too bad, Meltskin said. Looks like we have our first red herring, folks!

Several sighs came from the audience, but Jennifer never stopped clapping her support as a large, bald man stumbled over to Wilson and grabbed hold of his wrist. With one clean cut, he separated Wilson’s pinkie finger from his hand with a pair of hand shears, then sprayed a small bottle of numbing gel on the wound, which also served as a coagulant.

I got one! Fivefingers yelled. Meltskin switched his attention to the buff man as he tore a large section of flesh off the top of his pectoral muscle and dug out a spiked object. At a glance, it appeared to be a gold star, but it was in fact a little metal hedgehog.

So close! Meltskin said. He spat into his palm and slicked back his mohawk once again. Seconds later, Fivefingers was down a finger.

This continued for several minutes, with each of the contestants losing several additional digits. Wilson was beginning to wonder if there had been some kind of mistake. He had found and removed six shapes from across his body yet still had nothing to show for it, and the detector was not picking up on anything further—even his genitals appeared to be clear of foreign objects.

Despite being covered in wounds, Fivefingers was still smiling, tearing away at his chiseled body without hesitation. It was not until Wilson saw him run the detector over his feet that he realized there was still one place he hadn’t checked.

The detector bleeped happily against each of the soles of his feet. Knowing he was likely about to lose, Wilson dropped to the floor and tossed the detector aside and began to scratch frantically at each of his soles with all of his remaining fingers. The sensation changed from soothing to excruciating in mere seconds, yet he knew he could not slow.

His left sole split and gave way to a little yellow Pikachu, and he brought both hands to his right. A thin split appeared. He scratched at it frantically as the sharp tip of a golden metal object poked through the opening, helping him tear it wider, until eventually, his bleeding sole birthed a golden star.

WE HAVE A WINNER! The audience cheered, clapped, and screamed until several blood vessels were broken. Congratulations, Wilson. You may choose any finger to have reattached. A second bald man appeared at the edge of the studio wearing a black-and-white maid’s outfit. He presented a silver tray to Wilson, upon which sat a couple dozen fingers. His gaze fell to his sharp-fingernail pointer, his pinky, and several from his left hand. There were also several of Fivefingers’ as well as many that he did not recognize. He selected a large, hairy middle finger. It was clearly from an ape, or something similar, but it was bound to bring a few laughs from his mates.

The first bald man then approached and placed another two of Fivefingers’ digits on the tray, before both men sauntered offstage together.

Wilson took a quick peek at his opponent’s hands. They were now even, with five fingers remaining, despite him having won the round.

It was at this point that Meltskin cartwheeled to the back of the room to retrieve a large saucepan for his half-time party trick. Wilson had seen it on countless occasions, yet it never got old. He clapped along with the crowd as Meltskin upended the vat over his head and poured the boiling substance all over himself. The smell as his skin lost all elasticity was awful, like burnt porridge and parsnips, but it soon gave way to something buttery and altogether sweeter. Wilson and Fivefingers joined the crowd in licking at Meltskin’s sugary skin as it remolded and resolidified itself. There were several theories as to how Lars Meltskin was able to do this, the most subscribed of which was that a lifetime of sugary treats and drinks and caused his skin to behave more like candy than flesh.

That was fun, wasn’t it? Meltskin said once the last of the audience had returned to their seats. He straightened his jacket and moved to draw attention to the rear of the room. While everyone was busy tasting his sweet sugariness, two large walls had been wheeled out. Five small holes were cut into each wall, with a small curtain preventing anyone from looking through. And now for this episode’s Sniff challenge! Wilson, if you would kindly move to stand in front of the first hole in the wall on the left. Jonny Fivefingers, if you could do the same with the wall on the right. The rules for this round are simple. Poke a finger through the hole and tell the audience what it is you think is on the other side. When you’re ready, you may finger the first hole.

You’ve got this, Snugglebum! Jennifer whooped. She was joined by several others as she clapped in a steady rhythm.

Wilson knelt and pushed the middle finger of his left hand through the gap in the curtain and into a moist, cold substance. It felt as if it had a lot of movement as he retracted his finger and raised it to his nose. He smiled. Lime jelly?

Meltskin wore a pokerface until Fivefingers had fingered his first hole and answered: Peach Lipbalm.

Correct! You may both pick a finger.

Wilson selected a long, dainty finger with a red painted nail. Fivefingers took one of Wilson’s fingers. Despite getting harder, round two and three passed without a hitch, with Wilson guessing both singed furby and groin sweat correctly. This meant it was still neck and neck going into round four, and when Wilson incorrectly guessed monkey semen (the correct answer was foot fungus), he could feel his life-sized cheese mould slipping away from him.

A dolphin’s blowhole, Fivefingers answered smugly.

Meltskin cut in before he could begin to celebrate. I’m sorry, the answer we were looking for was ‘Grandmother’s mouth’. Fivefingers cursed himself for missing something so obvious while the assistant snipped off one of his recently reattached fingers. In his defense, she had been buried several months back.

It wasn’t over yet. It took all of Wilson’s strength to stop his arm from trembling as he knelt before the final hole and slipped one of his remaining fingers through to the mystery side. There was a little resistance, and then the object accommodated his entire finger.

Wilson was unable to stop the smile from creeping across his face. He’d been preparing for this day his entire life on the off chance he would get to be a participant. The hard work had paid off; he knew exactly what this was before he even removed his finger and gave it a cursory sniff. It was tempting to blurt the answer right away and tear his clothes off in celebration, but somehow he was able to control himself for long enough for Fivefingers to give his answer.

Melted iron? he said with a grimace.

I’m sorry, the correct answer was ‘fresh gunshot wound’. He turned to Wilson, wide eyed and beaming. And your guess?

Wilson was sure he had it right, but he refrained from answering for a short while in order to build suspense. The cameras focused in on him, crisp 4K picking out every hair follicle and bead of sweat. He looked to Jennifer and winked.

Father’s butthole.

The audience erupted before Meltskin even had a chance to confirm the answer was correct (they could see behind the fake walls from the LCD panel that had flared to life high above). Meltskin roared his congratulations