The Alice Hardy To My Jason Voorhees

(My friends are a little worried about meeting my girlfriend. They like to watch gross-out horror flicks all the time, and they’re not used to having women around. They’re trying to be on their best behaviour, despite the fact that we’re watching the remake of Friday the 13th.)

Girlfriend: “You want to know what I want to know?”

Me: “What’s that?”

Girlfriend: “Why can’t they ever seem to figure out that they’ve tried cleaving this guy in the head, hanging him, putting him in toxic stew, blowing him up, burning him alive, drowning him and all that garbage and it’s never worked. But they’ve never tried a d*** wood chipper?”

(My friends all stop and stare at her.)

Girlfriend: “No, seriously! They do it in a contained area to catch all the mush, wear respirators to avoid cancerous bone dust and all the dead stuff, and just collect it all in jars, then drop the jars in concrete. I mean, it didn’t work so well for the Lament Configuration because that thing possessed a building, but do you really think that Satan’s errand boy here would do that?”

Me and her together: “Stupid franchising.”

One of my friends: *to me* “Where did you find her, and were there more of them?”