Once upon a time there was an overly educated Emo Cutter who lived in a small modest home in Oregon at the edge of a spooky, depressing forest. He shared his pathetic existence with his new wife, and two ungrateful children. The new wife was the children's Step Monster, and the two children were named Harold and Gracie. Harold and Gracie were absolutely miserable brats who among other things, both had serious entitlement issues.

Every day the poor Emo Cutter struggled to find new ways to feed his family. You see his "DotCom" company had gone bust. People simply weren't buying hipster Kitten products made from free range hemp anymore. The more he pondered over his failures the more he felt the need to cut himself, and he cut himself often. One day a letter came in the mail and things went from bad to worse. You see the letter was from the family doctor and in it the letter said that the children, Harold and Gracie had become lactose intolerant and could no longer eat the government cheese. This news sent the Emo Cutter into a horrible depression so went looking for a fresh razor to relieve his anxiety.

The Emo Cutter tossed and turned all night as he wrestled with this dilemma, and when he finally couldn’t take the stress any longer he turned to his wife and said, "With Gracie's peanut allergy, and Harold's need for a gluten free diet, how will we feed the children now that they are both lactose intolerant and can no longer eat the government cheese?"

"Here's what we'll do" said the evil Step Monster. "We'll take the children deep into the woods and abandon them there like a Prom queen abandons a new born in a banquet hall dumpster on Prom night" she continued. "I'm sure they won't find their way back home again, they simply aren’t that bright. Then they'll be the government's problem, and not ours to worry about" she cackled.

"How can possibly I do that?" moaned the Emo Cutter. "The Woods are full of Zombies, and all sorts of horrible things," he muttered.

"Are you an idiot?" scolded the wicked Step Monster. "We can barely feed ourselves as it is, would you rather we starve instead? Besides what could the woods hold that are more horrible than those two brats of yours?" she queried.

The woman continued to nag and berate her husband until the sun came up. The Emo Cutter had to decide whether he wanted to cut off his hand to deal with the stress, or take part in her plan. In the end, he decided he would go along with the evil scheme his wife had devised. After all it's hard to surf the intrawebz for Anime porn with only one hand, he reasoned.

The ungrateful children being naughty as naughty children often are, overheard the entire conversation. Harold and Gracie simply weren't the type of children who listen to their parents when told to go to bed, and they loved to eavesdrop. Eavesdropping is of course naughty, and Harold and Gracie  relished being the naughtiest they could be.

"I don't want to be left in the forest as Zombie Chow," whined Gracie.

"Don't worry Sis, I've got a plan" said Harold before heading back to play Mass Effect on his Xbox.

The next morning the Emo Cutter and the Step Monster woke the children, and told them to get dressed in a hurry. The Emo Cutter promised they would be going for a family walk through the forest in search of truffles for supper. He knew how much his spoiled brats loved truffles. It was the only thing that would get Harold to leave his Xbox and Gracie to stop primping herself in the bathroom mirror. So the children quickly got dressed and met the Emo Cutter and Step Monster downstairs in the kitchen.

“Are we all set for our adventure?” asked the Emo Cutter.

"Not so fast Pops!" said Harold. He then pulled a Glock out from under his hoodie and shot both adults dead, gangsta style, like he learned in Grand Theft Auto 2.

"You idiot!" screamed Gracie as she stared at her father bleeding out on the kitchen floor. "Now who is going to cash Dad's unemployment checks you moron?"

"Opps!" said Harold. "I hadn't thought of that." Harold truly wasn’t all that bright.

"Well I'm not sticking around till the cops show up" said Gracie.

"Yeah we better head into the woods and hide till this blows over" said Harold.

So the two spoiled brats packed up whatever they could carry and headed off into the deep, dark, depressingly spooky forest. They traveled for what seemed like miles to the pair, but was in reality only a few hundred feet. Finally Gracie began to whine and plopped herself on the ground to pitch a fit.

"I won't keep walking, this is just stupid!" she whined.

"Okay, okay quit your bitchin' Sis" replied Harold. "I think there's an old house just over that ridge. We can hide out there" he said.

"Fine!" hissed Gracie. "But it better have Cable TV" she huffed.

So the pair climbed the ridge, moaning and complaining the entire way, and when they reached the top they saw a small little cottage with a giant satellite dish on the roof. They slowly crept down the ridge to the side of the house, careful not to make a sound. Slinking in through the back door they made their way through the kitchen grabbing whatever food and snacks they could find on the counters.

As they snuck into the living room they saw the dancing electronic shadows of the Big screen TV on the wall behind the huge comfy sofa. It looked so inviting and they were so tired from their "arduous" journey. Grabbing their ill-gotten goodies they headed for the couch and proceeded to make themselves at home, completely oblivious to the fact that they were in a stranger’s house.

After stuffing themselves to the point of vomiting with candy and deep fried snacks and drowning themselves in high fructose corn syrup laden beverages, the monotone drone of the TV quickly put the pair to sleep. So there they slept, Harold sprawled on the floor and Gracie passed out on the sofa. They slept deeply, the kind of deep that only a sugar coma can truly induce, all the whilst dreams of Xbox games and Jimmy Choo shoes danced through their heads, like the sugar bombs from that popular Christmas tale.

Then just before dawn, someone came through the front door and spying the two sleeping brats on the couch said, “WTF are you two punks doing in my damn living room drooling all over my fucking sofa?”

Harold and Gracie awoke with a startle. At first they just thought it was just some crotchety old man, but as the sleep cleared from their eyes they realized they were face to face with an unliving, unbreathing, very pissed off talking Zombie! Gracie was so terrified, she let out a shriek.

“Don’t worry Sis, I got this” said Harold with a cocky smirk.

With that Harold once again pulled out the Glock from under his hoodie and prepared to dispatch the Zombie in the same manner he had taken out his Emo Cutter Father and Step Monster the day before. Only this time, instead of being greeted by the “click, boom” of a perfect head shot as he pulled the trigger, he was met with the “click, click, click” of an empty magazine. See like I told you earlier, Harold was not that bright, so he never bothered to reload the Glock after killing his parents.

“This ain’t Left 4 Dead punk” hissed the angry Zombie when he realized what had happened. “There is no unlimited ammo cheat code” he growled.

With that the angry Zombie grabbed the shovel from beside the front door and proceeded to bludgeon Harold and Gracie to death, spraying bits and pieces of them all over the living room. Unlike Harold however, this Zombie was pretty smart and made sure to leave the children’s brains mostly intact. After all there is nothing a Zombie enjoys eating for breakfast more than the fresh brains of two ungrateful children, stupid enough to pass out on his sofa.

The End.

Editor's Note: Can anyone tell us the moral to this story?