California Chainsaw Massacre

California Chainsaw Massacre is a funny scary story about a girl and her boyfriend who are watching a very corny horror movie one Halloween night. It is based on an idea by paperplaines.

It was Halloween night and my boyfriend, Tom, and I were snuggling on the couch, watching a horror movie. It was called “California Chainsaw Massacre 2: The Bloodening.” Tom had rented it from the local video store and it was the stupidest, corniest horror movie I had ever seen.

On the TV screen, there was a blond-haired girl lying in bed asleep. She was completely naked and there was a guy in a mask standing over her. He was holding a chainsaw and he kept revving it over and over and there was smoke coming out of it.

“This is so lame,” I said. “Who sleeps naked on top of the duvet like that?”

“Makes sense to me,” Tom laughed.

“And how come she can’t hear the chainsaw?” I complained. “It’s right next to her ear.”

“I don’t know, Babes,” Tom chuckled as he twirled my blond hair around his finger. “Maybe blond girls are dumb or something…”

“Doofus!” I said and I punched him lightly on the shoulder.

“Hey, Babes,” Tom grinned as he pointed at the TV screen. “If you don’t stop complaining about the movie, that dude’s gonna come get you tonight and he’s gonna chainsaw you in your sleep.”

“Don’t say that!” I squealed and I slapped him lightly across the face.

“You know what makes this move extra-scary?” Tom asked. “It says on the box that it’s a true story!”

“Yeah, right,” I laughed.

“And you know what makes it extra-extra-scary?” Tom asked. “It’s called California Chainsaw Massacre… and we live in California!”

“you’re such an idiot,” I said as I playfully punched him in the crotch.

All of a sudden, in the movie, the guy began sawing the blond girl in half with his chainsaw. She was screaming and fake blood was spraying everywhere.

“Come on,” I said, sniggering at the low-budget special effects. “This is so corny. I can’t watch it anymore.”

I grabbed the remote control and switched off the TV.

“I know what’ll take your mind off it,” Tom said. “Come here Babes.”

He took me in his manly arms and began kissing me.

Even though the TV was off, I could still hear the noise of the chainsaw.

“Tom, stop it,” I said, glaring at him.

“Stop what?” he asked, his eyes wide.

“Stop making that noise,” I said.

“What noise?” he moaned. “I’m not doing anything!”

“Yes you are,” I insisted. “You know how freaked out I get.”

“OK, maybe we need a distraction,” he said with a smile and he started kissing me again. We were making out on the couch and Tom was running his hands up and down my back, but I couldn’t get my mind off the noise of the chainsaw. It was getting louder and it sounded like it was coming from upstairs.

“Tom!” I hissed, pushing him away. “Go up and see what’s making that noise.”

“Alright, alright,” he grumbled. “I’ll go up and take a look, but you owe me one.”

“One what?” I said, smiling weakly at him.

He grabbed a baseball bat and left the room, closing the door behind him. As I listened to his footsteps trudging up the stairs, I picked at my fingernails.

“Maybe I should’ve painted them black,” I thought. “You know, for Halloween. With cute little orange pumpkins on them or little white skulls or maybe…”

CRASH! The noise made me jump. Then the sound of the chainsaw got even louder. I could even hear it revving.

“AHHHH! Babes, help!” Tom screamed from upstairs.

I rolled my eyes. “Stop playing around, Tom!” I yelled. “It’s not funny!”

I heard him screaming again, “No, dude, no!”

“You’re not fooling anyone, Tom!” I shouted.

Then I heard a disgusting noise. It sounded kind of like a chainsaw sawing through flesh and bone and afterwards, everything went silent.

I froze. A wave of fear suddenly washed over me and my breathing was coming in ragged gasps.

“Tom?” I whispered. “Are you OK?”

I listened to the sound of footsteps coming back down the stairs. Then, the door burst open and Tom came staggering into the room. He was clutching his chest and he fell face-first onto the floor with a splat. A pool of blood spread out around him, soaking into the carpet.

There was a folded piece of paper stapled to his back.

I picked it up, unfolded it and let out a blood-curdling scream.

It was picture of the guy with the chainsaw from the movie and on the other side, written in black sharpie, were the words: “Corny enough for you?”