DEiithStyles 
     
    
   
   
    
     By Guess, who . arid my economy size can of 
     
    

    
     H6110, “W 56817 mellng , Smellerama. Scary stuff. 
     
     Abuse a bitddy today; go for 
     
     it. This is really deteriorating 
     
    

    
     This is just too sick for the into the smut here. Smut, 
     
     beach. We tossed around who said smut?'Ha, I knew 
     
     some ideas for Deathstyles, that’d perk a few of you up. 
     
     and we tossed out this win- 
     
     ner: I was going to review 
     
     _for you lucky, fervent and 
     
     faithful readers of my byline 
     
     the top ten funeral parlors in 
     
     Charlottetown. 
     
    

    
     But, alas, we decided that 
     
     would be too totally tacky, 
     
     even for ‘me. Stop pouting 
     
     and scuffing your shoe on the! 
     
     ground, alright already. 
     
    

    
     Nobody around here seems 
     
     to have a calendar with an 
     
     indication of the next full 
     
     moon, but rest} assured there 
     
     is one coming. 
     
    

    
     You can pick up your 
     
     Dracula, glow-in-the—dark 
     
     teeth at Expressions in the 
     
     Charlottetown Mall. 
     
    

    
     All vampires and batty 
     
     people meet at the corner of 
     
     Queen and Grafton next 
     
     Wednesday night, and give 
     
     staid ole Charlietown a night 
     
     to remember. Boo, hiss,~ 
     
     aarroooooooooo. 
     
    

    
     Guess what? There’s a 
     
     movie due to arrive in town 
     
     any time now. It’s called 
     
     “Terror in Dark Places”, I 
     
     think. I couldn’t here the 
     
     preview on TV too well from . 
     
     under the couch. 
     
    

    
     It’s supposedly the scariest 
     
     clips from the scariest movies 
     
     ever made, Iakno I’m going 
     
     to enjoy it, sitting in the 
     
     front row with mv 3-D glasses 
     
    
   
   
    
     Our Friend Ron 
     
    
   
   
    
     A POETIC POLITICAL SAT.’ "3 - 
     
     By Robert Bodrog-Goodland 
     
     HE VOWS TO BE THE ARSENAL OF DEMO- 
     
     CRACY, 
     
     MESS WITH US AND YOU WILL SEE, 
     
     WE‘RE NOT GONNA BE ANYONE’S PAWN 
     
     AS LONG AS WE RETAIN OUR GOOD FRIEND 
     
     RON. 
     
    
   
   
    
     WE’LL KICK ASS BAD IN CENTRAL AMERICA, 
     
     WE’LL PLANT OUR MISSLES IN BAVARIA; 
     
    

    
     THE USA. WILL ALWAYS BE STRONG 
     
    

    
     IF WE RE-ELECT OUR GOOD FRIEND RON. 
     
    
   
   
    
     OUR GOOD FRIEND RON, HE’S STILL FIT, 
     
    

    
     HE WON’T TAKE NO SOVIET SHIT; 
     
    

    
     HE’S A GOOD GUY, HE’LL SAVE FACE, 
     
    

    
     AND SOON WE’LL HAVE LOTSA WEAPONS IN 
     
     SPACE; . ' I A I ‘ 
     
    

    
     SO WHY NOT KEEP THE OLD MAN ON? . 
     
    

    
     THE FREE WORLD NEEDS OUR GOOD FRIEND 
     
     RON. 
     
    
   
   
    
     IF HE WEARS MAKE-UP, I DON’T CARE, 
     
    

    
     EVEN EINSTEIN GELLED HIS HAIR: 
     
    

    
     AND IF IN PUBLIC HE SHOULD YAWN, 
     
    

    
     DON’T WORRY ABOUT IT —— THAT’S JUST RON. 
     
    
   
   
    
     HE’S GOT GUTS, HE’S THE MAN, 
     
     IF HE CAN’T DO THE JOB, NO ONE CAN; 
     
     HE WON’T BE ANYONE’S PAWN, 
     
     , HE’ AMERICA’S GOOD FRIEND RON.  
     
    
   
   
    
       
     
    
   
   
    
     Michael Jackson impression 
     
     voice. that line, I fell off my dino- 
     
    
   
   
    
     ‘I‘I really don’t know what 
     
    
   
   
    
     ‘ « 
     
    
   
   
    
     I’m going to do my applause, just throw money. think Ofasuitable Comeback Haven’t you heard? Peopl: 
     
     _ “Oh, come on," exclaims wait, I’ve got it: “Oh are just dying to get in. I’m 
     
     sorry, I couldn’t resist [he 
     
    
   
   
    
     (think high-pitched Ron. “The last time I heard Yeah???” 
     
     Next year’s column will greatest groaner of 
     
     saur.” I include an in-depth report on recorded historym 
     
    

    
     Gee whiz, this is all in my Charlottetown’s hottest night 
     
    
   
   
    
     to say,” Please, hold your imagination, and I can’t life — the cemetaries. 0n sucking, brothers. 
     
    
   
   
    
       
     
    
   
   
    
     UPEI students ponder life. (Photo: MacLeod, 84) 
     
    
   
   
    
     \ 
     
    
   
   
    
     \ 
     
     “Mu” “J 
     
    
   
   
    
         
     
    
   
   
    
     ‘M\ l 
     
    
   
   
    
     Hallowe’en 
     
    
   
   
    
     T’was the night of Halloween and all through the old house 9,; , 3 
     
     Every ghost was stirrring, trying to scare a mouse ‘ ’7'"  
     
     The grinning Jack-o-Lanterns were placed on the mantle with care 1 @ng / 7 , 
     
    
   
   
    
     I had that a ghost would give me a scare. 
     
    
   
   
    
     Little goblins were nestled all snug in their graves 
     
     While visions of spooks awaited them in caves 
     
     And there I stood shivering in my night cap 
     
     Anticipating catching a long needed nap 
     
    
   
   
    
     At that moment something said BOO! !! 
     
     And under the sheets, in I flew 
     
    

    
     Then all of a sudden came roars of laughter 
     
     So loud and sharp it shook the rafters 
     
    
   
   
    
     MMNM\‘“M 
     
    
   
   
    
          
     
    
   
   
    
     Okay guys, you got me there 
     
     My humiliation filled the air 
     
     The spectre pranksters had a good laugh 
     
    
   
   
    
     Untilwe meet again, keep