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Either Blood Shack or The Chooper depending on mood.

Most of this film is a guy called Daniel walking around the titular shack, with the occasional cartoonish murder so that the director can call it a horror.

According to redlettermedia, this is where their phrase ‘filming the rodeo’ came from, based on the scene where the main character goes to the rodeo for no real reason and is then forgotten about as the bulls take over.

Here’s what I came up with:

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OOOOOAAAAARGHBJBJBJBBNNMMSSMSMSM///XX

from sidebar of Exorcist III

OUR way better than Scott way Blatty way

way dor di

way dut ho

way lek gwor [koi]

way yori

way melhor do que-

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To hide inside dusky language overcoat is to walk around the Bruegel Shack drop hat now then later and again before long after then and now lax-rebut with shovel pose shriek shack-wards regarding Chooper lore but in dead time walk around the Orozco Shack your deregulated place of work tidy up pampered corpse that banshee whore evade random Mongolian who we think came from critic wave and stayed cos of critic wave too as in they were inside all along upstairs lost within that stain the brown one on the mattress HE picked up from-

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No stairs but outside

musical chairs

[sic]

representative in the face of post-beautiful reproduction of single chair, you sit there first, I sat there last, you can’t sit, I don’t know how to sit, can you sit, I sat already, is it okay to sit, can you teach me how to sit, I’m not sitting anymore, what chair, you shouldn’t sit there, let’s sit for a while, you forgot to sit, you sit first, I’ll sit second until

the chair gives up, moves to Brazil

comes back a week later in Robinho shirt, the blue version

sits on sand

watches Daniel pick up hat and drop hat and walk around and stop and walk around a bit more and he’s always known how to do that to walk around and that’s what he does walk around the dirt and stop and walk around the Carrington Shack and get paid under frame of subject-wooden chair to walk around a lot and pause and drop hat and continue talking warning people incessantly that the Chooper will get em and they’ll deserve it but not him cos he doesn’t go inside much simply walks around the dirt perimeter and just cos Carol’s there now doesn’t mean he’s gonna stop walking around which is what he does when he’s not holding the shovel walk around and stop and walk around again and now he’s walking with Carol a few yards ahead even though she has no idea when to stop and walk back the other way and the voiceover isn’t helping but whatever at least the chair’s still there the chair in the blue shirt that has been flanking them for quite a long time and for the next hour or so the chair blocks out everything the god-voice the dirt the Ernst Shack the fear and concentrates solus on Daniel plus fashion stick watches them both diligent until finally to its own alarm-stroke-awe

IT evolves into I

orgasms, whistles, aneurism, calm

thinks

okay chair-ME or ME-chair

if I were representative of something, it would surely have to be-

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Day out at the rodeo, guerilla, amorphous

ruined by Tim

spotlight Tim

the Lemon Grove Kid

the kudlak

the stoic haze

continually aggrieved to be known as

Tim the Tam

Tim the humiliation of the Haydock Clan

their default sperm

their DON’T YOU DARE

their experiment swab who went and lived inside a Halloween store

their bone white excuse for-

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If we film the whole thing we can say we were there to film the whole thing and that way there will be baseline incongruency, 70 stretched-out minutes instead of-

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No negativity Steck but that bull death looked real

effective

let’s pinch the sword and-

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Potentially see HIM coming but when the camera’s fixed there is no periphery only void

No not void but Voidism

No not Voidism but white space

Not white space but desert in miniature

Not desert in miniature but-

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142 years is more than enough time to ossify this postage stamp mythology the monster you never see cos if not then why are WE-

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in there

the Chooper will get ya

swear on the clouds

go in

don’t look at the sides

don’t look at the roof

Chooper will get-

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Whoever believes in HIM is not judged but whoever flees is the very condition of HIS success

no obstacle at all

excluding Daniel

alone

cos his hat fell off and his jacket was small and his range was-

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Defunct at rodeo, routed by the Madeleine he knew already was Carol pretending to be Madeleine dressed as Carol wearing the skin of Madeleine, intruding into Tim’s intimate space, seducing a process that cowers as GOD substitute for asymmetrical cookery class, licking blondest child’s ice-cream fate, the residue on the cone, flicking UNO cards at boring cow, transforming accidental act into apt expression of-

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OOOOOOOOOAAARARGGJVBJBJBHHHHHHHHH

comes as form rejection for harassment of shovel freak

a real plum part

wilderness of sham XO

no not head on peek from the side see I’m 2% harm 12% wrath 8% ether 72% object humiliation face on behalf of the Haydock Cla-

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nice car nice boots I wanna buy your ranch.

Fathom Daniel.

Strip the rake down and fathom him.

Properly.

Function in his space.

Interrogate the function of him in that space.

Bifurcate that space.

Bifurcate the cop.

Nosy prick.

Over 150 years of death, sorry.

Water tower’s fine.

Where’s Daniel?

Ah there he is.

Functioning within that space.

Picking up hat from adjacent space.

Let’s walk over to that space.

I wanna see all types of space around here.

No more streets or alleyways.

Pure epochal space.

Apocryphal space.

Danger space.

Follow Daniel into each new space.

Overtake.

Be followed by Daniel into successor space.

Try to share that space.

Abandon previous space.

Give potential time to fringe space.

Pass from failed space to not yet failed space.

Really question that space.

Move on from that spa-

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No not filler at all just

tarrying with OUR negative

draining all brood

killing what’s not yet there but will be soon

the abyss fan who-

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Here fails to do anything cool so let’s focus on nothingness.

Maybe walk around the shack a bit

the Miró Shack

dust the mattress stain

pick up a hat

tell anywhere-door pair of grubby kids about that one time the Chooper jumped out of sidebar void and gutted two equally grubby kids then drove off to make a film about the Varo Shack haunted by Tim the Twink in ninja suit clutching sword nicked from local rodeo maybe add the whole of that in assuming the plot starts to thin a little which it will but still a film in grammar and syntax a forever film one material thing that can at some point be spiritualised by pagan writer who cannot really call themselves that cos yet another fucking horror anthology chose mediocrity over my Canto riff on Performance generic high school metaphors over my attempt at Cortazar’s simulacrum fucking frog analogue over my Botanist Not Escalator random mermaid shit over my okay not that great Urdu-Crowley-occult thing a conceit about star repairwomen over my hybrid Kollontai is missing and only what’s-his-name can find her piece that reduces all main parts to K L and S, S standing for Stalin, which is pretty fucking explicit when you actually read it which no one will not when there’s insipid tree as dyslexic teen story circling the-

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OOOOOOAAAGAGJBJBJDVHDGHHHHHHHHHHHWHATISTHEPOINTJGJVBAHXVHOFTHISSHITBBHJBB

JUST LIKE THE FILM

THERE BUT NOT

FUCKING OR SMOKING THROUGH BLUER MODES OF NEGATION

PLOUGHING ON WITH HAT IN DIRT

NONPLUSSED AT TIM DEFEAT

TIME DEFEAT

TYPING IT ALL OUT DESPITE-