Three Fisted Tales of Halloween: Island of the Farting Zombies

By Mike Oswald

A Halloween boat party goes horribly wrong when a mysterious ghost ship appears to wreck havoc on the unsuspecting guests. Will anyone escape... the island of the farting zombies?

• Language: English
• Publisher: SleepyHollowEntertainment
• Release date: Oct 30, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215859315

Book preview

THREE FISTED TALES OF HALLOWEEN

Island of the Farting Zombies

Mike Oswald

Sleepy Hollow Books

www.sleepyhollowentertainment.com

Three Fisted Tales of Halloween: Island of the Farting Zombies © 2023

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except in the case of a reviewer, who may quote brief passages embodied in critical articles or in a review.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Sleepy Hollow Entertainment, llc

ISBN: Pending

What’s that noise?

Wait, did anybody order a viking ship full of zombies?

The party goers on this little boat trip are about to get more than they bargained for… way more…

A haunted Halloween tale to chill your bones and curl your hair...

Acknowledgments

For all my family and friends, thank you for all your love and all your support!

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Also Available From Mike Oswald

The Yodel of Cthulhu series:

The Lisperer in Darkness

The Flasher of Moons

The Color From the Outhouse

The Fumes That Came From Sarnath

The Three Fisted Tales of Halloween series:

Island of the Farting Zombies

The Assless Horror

More Coming Soon!

Table of Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

About The Author

Other Books By This Publisher

Connect And Stay In Touch With Our Newsletter!

Chapter One

A Horror from the Past and a Horror from Lunch

A drab brown sheet of cloud slipped stealthily from the moon's round face, like a fart slipping from a vampire. The face of the moon smiled like the cold phosphorescent face of a jack-o-lantern from which the eyes had been shut from the images of the horrors below. The yellow radiance of the full moon fell toward the calm, greasy sea, illuminating a narrow bank of fog lying low on the water, penetrating its somber mass like pale frozen fingers.

Velma Bradley shuddered and shrank against Fred Darrell's brawny form. It's—it's ghastly, Fred! she said.

Ghastly? Fred leaned against the rail, laughing heartily. Relax Velma, It's just a fart. Everybody let's them. Especially after that bean dip. Yikes.

No. I don’t mean my fart, I mean this cruise. It's creepy as hell out here. Why didn't we decide to have our Halloween party in a bay where at least the dolphins don't have glowing eyes?

Fred laughed. Relax sweetheart. Have another strawberry vinaigrette cocktail. And just try not to eat too many more of those bean burritos— I'm afraid it's already too late for me, I already had seven.

Oh Fred, what will we do? Velma wrung her hands.

It’s fine, we’ll just hang out on deck a while, that’s all. Those enchiladas have given everybody gas.

That makes two of us. I also had the chili,

Ooh! Listen! Faintly from the salon came strains of dance music, laughing, and the rhythmic shuffle of feet that almost covered the sounds coming from behind the dancers, and ths sounds coming from behind Fred. A nifty yacht, a South Sea moon, a radio dance orchestra, dancers—and you get to experience a little more Fred! What more could you ask for? Even I’m impressed when I get to hang out with me! Savagely his arms tightened about her, and the bantering note left his voice, replaced by the high pitched whining sound that came from behind Velma as he squeezed her too tight. "I'm crazy about you, Velma. But yes, it’s really too late for any of us. I also had the bean dip. And I also had the chili after all those burritos. We’ll be lucky not to blow up the ship with