Since Uncle TRUTH hasn't blessed us with a Halloween story...
shirohniichan
Posts: 4,992 ✭✭✭
Here's my humble submission (only slightly modified from the world coin forum version):
The Night of the Living Dead Coins
It was a dark and stormy night. An intrepid Collector traveled miles through the stormy weather of rain-drenched southern Florida to reach his destination, a coin shop advertising gem uncirculated coins as discount prices. The headlights of his Subaru flashed across the front of the building as he turned in to a parking space. Pulled out of his pocket the crumpled ad he clipped from Coin World and examined it by the yellow light of his illuminated vanity mirror. It read, "Visiting Florida? Stop by the Coin Crypt for World Coins Certified to Be of the Highest Quality. Our Prices Can't Be Beat." "This must be the place," he said as he verified the address. He felt uneasy as he noticed the store was not lighted at all and no one appeared to be inside.
"Hello?" he cautiously called as he pushed open the creaking door. No one responded. He flashed his trusty Mini Maglite around the dark chamber and spotted some showcases by the back wall. As he brushed away the cobwebs he wondered how long it had been since someone had visited. While he couldn't explain it, a chill ran down his spine as he breathed the stale, musty air. Just as he noticed the thick layer of dust covering the cases, he spotted a larger object over in the corner. He went around the cases to inspect the mysterious, tarp-covered hulk. As he threw off the cover he accidentally sent a stack of clear, ice-cold objects flying through the light beam of his upturned flashlight. Horror gripped him as he picked one of them up and read the inscribed message on top: "CANADIAN CENTENNIAL DOLLAR, ACG PF-70 UDCAM". He turned the light down to the uncovered object in front of him and saw it was not just a machine, but an instrument of torture! It was an ACG ultrasonic slabbing device, and in his trembling hand he held an entombed Confederation Centennial Medal. "Not only is this not proof, it's not even a dollar coin! There's no cameo, either-- it's just a hazy, brown medal. What kind of madness is this?!" The shock made him drop his light as he reeled back like a man stung by a hive of angry hornets.
He spun around and ran for the door in terror. There was no time to pick up the flashlight-- he just headed for the dimly lit door frame from which he had entered. With a loud crash he ran into a showcase and spilled its contents on the crypt floor.
Hundreds of entombed coins moaned, "ACG--- no major complaints," "Quality coins at an affordable price," and "Industry leaders since 1989." The scratched, whizzed, altered, and polished coins in their MS-70 plastic coffins clung to him as he struggled to get to his feet.
"AH, the coin zombies got me!" he screamed in panic.
He could hear them shriek as he flung them to the ground, "A nice addition to any collection!!!"
The door flew open as he burst against it with all his might. His keyless entry system worked flawlessly as it unlocked his door with a quick jab of the button. The Collector fired up the car and pulled the car into reverse, flinging mud and gravel against the front of the Coin Crypt.
Still shaken and trembling from his harrowing escape, the Collector soothed himself by playing an Allman Brothers CD as he sped north up the highway and out of the land of the living dead coins. He didn't know how many other collectors hadn't been so lucky to escape the ACG curse as he had, but he couldn't worry about them now-- he just felt good to be alive. After about 50 miles he slowed his pace and brought his car back to within 10 mph of the speed limit. "Maybe I was imagining things," he thought as he wistfully savored the mental picture of his coin collection waiting him at home. Little did he know that one of the coin zombies had clung to the seam of his jacket and was at that very moment crawling up the back of his seat...
The Night of the Living Dead Coins
It was a dark and stormy night. An intrepid Collector traveled miles through the stormy weather of rain-drenched southern Florida to reach his destination, a coin shop advertising gem uncirculated coins as discount prices. The headlights of his Subaru flashed across the front of the building as he turned in to a parking space. Pulled out of his pocket the crumpled ad he clipped from Coin World and examined it by the yellow light of his illuminated vanity mirror. It read, "Visiting Florida? Stop by the Coin Crypt for World Coins Certified to Be of the Highest Quality. Our Prices Can't Be Beat." "This must be the place," he said as he verified the address. He felt uneasy as he noticed the store was not lighted at all and no one appeared to be inside.
"Hello?" he cautiously called as he pushed open the creaking door. No one responded. He flashed his trusty Mini Maglite around the dark chamber and spotted some showcases by the back wall. As he brushed away the cobwebs he wondered how long it had been since someone had visited. While he couldn't explain it, a chill ran down his spine as he breathed the stale, musty air. Just as he noticed the thick layer of dust covering the cases, he spotted a larger object over in the corner. He went around the cases to inspect the mysterious, tarp-covered hulk. As he threw off the cover he accidentally sent a stack of clear, ice-cold objects flying through the light beam of his upturned flashlight. Horror gripped him as he picked one of them up and read the inscribed message on top: "CANADIAN CENTENNIAL DOLLAR, ACG PF-70 UDCAM". He turned the light down to the uncovered object in front of him and saw it was not just a machine, but an instrument of torture! It was an ACG ultrasonic slabbing device, and in his trembling hand he held an entombed Confederation Centennial Medal. "Not only is this not proof, it's not even a dollar coin! There's no cameo, either-- it's just a hazy, brown medal. What kind of madness is this?!" The shock made him drop his light as he reeled back like a man stung by a hive of angry hornets.
He spun around and ran for the door in terror. There was no time to pick up the flashlight-- he just headed for the dimly lit door frame from which he had entered. With a loud crash he ran into a showcase and spilled its contents on the crypt floor.
Hundreds of entombed coins moaned, "ACG--- no major complaints," "Quality coins at an affordable price," and "Industry leaders since 1989." The scratched, whizzed, altered, and polished coins in their MS-70 plastic coffins clung to him as he struggled to get to his feet.
"AH, the coin zombies got me!" he screamed in panic.
He could hear them shriek as he flung them to the ground, "A nice addition to any collection!!!"
The door flew open as he burst against it with all his might. His keyless entry system worked flawlessly as it unlocked his door with a quick jab of the button. The Collector fired up the car and pulled the car into reverse, flinging mud and gravel against the front of the Coin Crypt.
Still shaken and trembling from his harrowing escape, the Collector soothed himself by playing an Allman Brothers CD as he sped north up the highway and out of the land of the living dead coins. He didn't know how many other collectors hadn't been so lucky to escape the ACG curse as he had, but he couldn't worry about them now-- he just felt good to be alive. After about 50 miles he slowed his pace and brought his car back to within 10 mph of the speed limit. "Maybe I was imagining things," he thought as he wistfully savored the mental picture of his coin collection waiting him at home. Little did he know that one of the coin zombies had clung to the seam of his jacket and was at that very moment crawling up the back of his seat...
Obscurum per obscurius
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Comments
Dragon
Obscurum per obscurius
So wistful did his thoughts become, that he at first thought the soft floral scent was his imagination. Even the slight, sensuous stroking at the back of his neck was suspect. There was no mistaking the throaty husky voice, though, that burst into his consciousness!
“Hello, Big Boy! You wanna have some fun?”
Collector shrank in horror! The car spun and peeled, tires screaming as he battled to regain control! His terror melded with shock and an otherworldly sense, that dissipated only slowly when his smoking car finally came to rest in a ditch.
As his mind cleared, Collector became only gradually aware of a presence, in the seat beside him. A statuesque blond, attired in a string bikini and outlandish qualities of red lipstick and rouge, languished on the seat, bedecked in a banner stretched to tautness by her massive bust: “ACG PR70 DCAM.”
Collector could only stare in disbelief. Slab Lady riveted his gaze with her eyes. Her breathing came faster: “You rushed off in an awful hurry, handsome,” she cooed, “You mighta hurt my feelings.”
Collector stiffened in his seat. He tried to look away.
“You know,” she whispered, as she ran her finger against his cheek, “I’m not as bad as people think. I’ve had LOTS of happy customers, and have NEVER had ONE complaint. Since I’ve been working since 1989, I’ve really gotten to know a few tricks, if you know what I mean!”
She winked at Customer with her mascara-entrusted false eyelashes.
Customer gasped, tried to scream, grabbed for the door handle. It was frozen! He looked through the windshield. His view was blurred! His entire car was sonically sealed!
Slab Lady laughed, a bit too loudly for a lady: “Loosen up, baby. Lets have some fun!”
Here's a warning parable for coin collectors...
I specialize in Wisconsin currency! Looking for information on WI national banknotes. Census stands at 12,318 notes.
**"Wisconsin National Bank Notes - 2nd Edition" is out!!!" Only $20PPd!!!
I specialize in Wisconsin currency! Looking for information on WI national banknotes. Census stands at 12,318 notes.
**"Wisconsin National Bank Notes - 2nd Edition" is out!!!" Only $20PPd!!!
TRUTH
I was afraid he wouldn't get out of the crypt alive! That kind of experience could cause flashbacks and all kinds of mental problems!
am
Obscurum per obscurius
am
Here's a warning parable for coin collectors...
Obscurum per obscurius