Halloween’s approaching, which means I gotta step up my game with #thenightshift if I wanna explain where the fuck the giant-ass bedbugs came from.
Oh. Uh, spoiler alert. There’s giant bedbugs in #thenightshift. Sorry ’bout that.
So, yeah, gotta explain the jokers somehow, though by “explain” I really mean “pull something out of my toned, dimpled ass.” We’ll see what kind of horrible quality I can achieve soon enough.
Original story to be posted as soon as I can fit in one last proofread, which will be a miracle, considering I’m working literally every waking minute until tomorrow night.
In other news, a guy I know just landed a job at a creepy old hotel, similar to #thenightshift but without the inexplicable mutant bugs. The place has got some…queasy history, is the best way I can put it, and unsavory stories abound about it.
I bring this up because, for better or worse, he wants to share his experience with you. Despite strict employee guidelines to the contrary, he’s going to be tweeting any and all experiences on the job, from the most mundane to the most extraordinary. Follow @TweetTheHaunt to see how (NAME WITHHELD FOR PURPOSES OF JOB SECURITY) handles the overnight shift in Nashville’s oldest, and most infamous, hotel.
Me, I got a cushy, corporate, chain hotel gig to get to, so for now my hainted buddy can suck it. For the conclusion of my terrible, horrible, no-good, seriously-this-is-really-bad, it’s-like-Michael-Bay-is-having-a-stroke Halloween serial, follow @SeanGanus. I promise it’ll be a letdown. Wait, no, I mean it won’t be a letdown.
Ah, I can’t lie to ya. It’ll be like I gave your intellect an immunity disorder. Don’t say I ever gave ya any wooden nickels.
– The Awful Writer