Hard Digest October 27: Early Access Peter Steele, Body Horror, Selling Out, and More

Self-Conscious Metalhead Nervous After Finding Peter Steele Issue of Playgirl Under Girlfriend’s Mattress

By Robert Butler 

NEW YORK — Local metalhead Noel Donner is feeling nervous about the longevity of his relationship after finding the Peter Steele issue of Playgirl hidden underneath his girlfriend’s mattress, multiple sources confirmed.

“To be honest, this kinda stings. I was under the impression she was into scrawny, balding, bearded guys who are under six feet tall,” said a visibly dejected Donner. “But turns out, I’m the complete opposite of her type. I didn’t suspect she was really into dudes who look as if they were chiseled from stone and obnoxiously dripping sex appeal. If this is what she’s envisioning every time she closes her eyes during sex, it’s only a matter of time before it’s all over for me.”

Since the incident, Donner began wearing nail polish and combat boots in what his girlfriend Debbie Collins claims to be a “desperate effort.”

“I think this really hit him right in the confidence,” explained an exasperated Collins. “It certainly didn’t help when I told him it was hung on the ceiling over my bed before we met. He also didn’t seem to appreciate the lipstick stains near Peter’s crotch, he even stopped counting them. I also really hope he never jokingly asks me if I’ve named my vibrator, because the answer would just destroy him. Regardless, I’m really hoping he gets over this soon, because fishnet shirts are not a great look for him.”

Metalheads inquiring about surgical procedures to look like the Type O Negative frontman are common, according to plastic surgeon John Peterson.

“In my 30 years of practicing, there’s been a steady line of younger men asking me if I can make them look like Peter Steele. And I’ve only ever had one answer, and that is no,” said Peterson. “I can’t add more vertebrae to your spine to make you taller. No, I can’t extend your shoulders and make them broad as a forklift. And no, I can’t make your voice sound as deep, smooth and rich as his. The technology isn’t there yet. The only recommendation I have is adding more black to your wardrobe, wearing a large dog chain for a guitar strap, and making an effort to exclusively look pissed off. I’m just a surgeon, not a miracle maker. Some art just can’t be replicated.”

At press time, the couple agreed to return the 1995 Playgirl back to where it belongs: on the ceiling above the bed so it’s the first thing they see when they open their eyes in the morning.

Real Life Body Horror? This Guy Turned 40

By Ben Friedman 

Our own vanity plays a huge part in making the “body horror” genre of movies so terrifying. One day you’re walking around in your mid-20’s in the prime of your life, and the next thing you know flesh-eating bacteria is melting your face off or hair starts growing out of your eyeballs.

Such is the case of Josh Albertson. Maybe it’s not exactly like the movies but for all intents and purposes he’s become a grotesque caricature of himself, because as of today he’s been alive for exactly 40 years.

“I didn’t even notice until my nephew asked me what the 1900’s were like. Then the changes came all at once. Like head splitting bouts of tinnitus, acute heartburn that felt like something was going to bust out of my chest, and all the like. It wasn’t until I woke up with hemorrhoids this morning that I realized we’d have to change my birthday dinner from Mexican food to something bland.”

Has he tampered in God’s domain with all the supplements and vitamins he’s taken over the years, or did he take his youth for granted and is now trapped inside the prison that is rapidly collapsing health? Surely humans were not meant to exist this long. Somebody get David Cronenberg on the phone!

This poor bastard must’ve made a wish on a monkey’s paw or pissed off a witch in his youth, judging by the way his body is collapsing almost to the minute he exited the womb four decades prior. Either that or male pattern baldness skipped a generation and he’s getting the shit end of the genetic lottery.

“Last month I went to a house show and I swear I only had two beers and hung out in the back of the crowd. I woke up the next day and felt like I’d been in a car accident. What the hell is happening to me? I feel like I’m living out the plot of ‘Thinner’.”

If this is 40, we shudder to think what’s in store for next year. At this rate he’s one violent sneeze away from evacuating his central nervous system through his nasal cavity, that is if he doesn’t pull every muscle in his back blowing out the birthday candles first.

While there’s no telling how much time Josh has left until he starts looking, one thing is certain: his insurance isn’t covering any of this shit.

Classically Trained Theremin Player Sells Out For Haunted House Gig

By Jeff Cardello

CINCINNATI — Ophelia Kingsley, an esteemed thereminist who has been a featured guest player with the London Symphony, Orchestre de Paris, and the Los Angeles Philharmonic, recently took a job at Screamz Manor to help pay her bills.

“I’ve performed pieces like Camille Saint-Saëns’ ‘The Swan’ for audiences in the most beautiful concert halls across the world. Now, I get to play for a bunch of bored teenagers in what was once a Blockbuster Video in a failing strip mall,” said Kingsley. “I could either take this job or start learning a more lucrative instrument. Bassoon players, accordionists…. even lowly triangle players pull in more annually than me.”

Buzz Eastman, a self-described “serial entrepreneur” who launched Screamz Manor, says the project is the culmination of his creative vision and love of money.

“This ain’t your mommy and daddy’s haunted house. We got Draculas, we got gorillas, heck we even have both Freddies and Jasons,” said Eastman while counting a stack of single dollar bills. “There’s also a fancy lady who doesn’t look like she wants to be there waving her hands over a television antenna making spooky sounds to scare the bejeezus out of you. I went ahead and hired this woman who plays some sorta crazy instrument that sounds right out of a B-movie. Her sound effects are bringing a whole ‘nother level of ‘creepy’ to the gig!”

Classical music critic Agatha Pemberton commented on Kingsley’s performance in the Manor’s penultimate fright night.

“While it was difficult to hear over the laughter of people responding to the actors stumbling around unable to see through their ill-fitting monster masks, Kingsley’s ethereal playing filled the space with beauty, which would otherwise be a dark void lacking any sense of art or trace of human intellect,” said Pemberton while adjusting her opera glasses. “Perhaps next year she will finally play in one of these establishments that is worth her pedigree, such as Halloween Horror Nights on the West Coast. Anywhere else is, frankly, a waste.”

As of press time, Kingsley’s act of selling out and loss of dignity has brought in extra income that has made it possible for her to pay off .001% of the interest on the student loan she took out to study classical music at the Berklee College of Music.

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Report: Fuck, the Enemies Are Still Attacking Me Even Though I Have the Inventory Screen Open

BY Steve Packosky 

WICHITA, Kan. — Calls for me to hurry the fuck up and choose my weapon were heightened amidst reports that the enemies are not going to pause their relentless flurries of attacks just because I have the inventory screen open.

“This is the perfect time to strike, so why on Earth would I pause or even tone down my barrage of shots, stabs and punches just because you’re trying to find the right weapon or health item?” one enemy reported. “Draining your HP is literally my only reason for existing. If you’re expecting me to just freeze in place and allow you to make these decisions at your leisure, you’re playing the wrong game. That may be a courtesy I’d extend to you in tutorial mode, but you chose the hardest level of difficulty, for Christ’s sake.”

I reacted to this revelation with a combination of surprise and anger.

“Fuck fuck fuck, they’re still attacking?” I exclaimed as I hurriedly selected the least effective weapon in my cache so I could return to the fight. “It would’ve been nice to know this earlier. I’d have made sure I had a better weapon equipped. Everybody knows the inventory screen double-functions as a pause menu. Now I’m stuck with the shittiest weapon and no way to change it until I can get to a safer place.”

My NPC teammate for this area was upset at my behavior around the enemies.

“I am functionally useless in comparison to the power you wield, so I’d appreciate it if you woke the fuck up and joined the fight,” he quipped. “Right now I’m relegated to hovering in your general vicinity and weakly delivering attacks to the enemy that deal essentially zero damage, all while you just stand there and stare into space. I don’t know what the fuck you’re doing, but you’re not the only one with a stake in this game, you selfish prick. If you die, I die. Has that even crossed your mind?”

At press time, an enemy delivered the killing blow after I accidentally opened the map screen upon rejoining the fight.