Greetings and salutations, my fellow Ficleteering Fans of Fright,

Allow me to introduce myself. I am known by the nom de plume — meaning “pen name” — Crown Me Tarzan, King of Mars. I am a Shaper of Nightmares, Weaver of Dreams, Griot (which means “storyteller”), and all-around Mind Eff’er.

Who am I kidding. You know who I am.

Recently, I penned a story called ScapeGoat. Many of you have read it, and your psyches still bear the scars to prove it. ScapeGoat was written as an homage and tribute to my personal hero, renowned Master of All Things Horrible, Garth Marenghi. Many may consider this story a “pastiche” or a “rip-off” of Mr. Marenghi’s work and I answer thusly: you are entitled to your opinion. And eat me.

You see, when I write horror, I only write what horrifies me personally. And the thought of being rogered up the tailpipe by a hairy, brutish — possiby Greek — Goat-Man is the type of thing that keeps me up at night.

But you all are probably a bunch of perverts, and into that sort of thing.