Another Fucking Story About Juggalos (Part One)

I heard them coming long before I saw them...

The haunting strains of ICP from the car window as their matte black, 1984 Cadillac Coupe de Ville pulled up next to me and the three of them jumped out.

All three wore full, black and white demon-clown war paint across their faces, two wore dreadlocks. The third’s head was shaved, and all three wore matching “Hatchet Man” medallions around their necks.

The first, their leader I presume, wore a faux hockey jersey proclaiming him to be named “Thug Ballz”, and as they approached he looked me dead in the eye.

I consider myself a generally open-minded person, accepting of all to the degree that I can be, but I admit, in that moment I was afraid. Involuntarily, I took a step back, frightened of impending attack, scared that they might hurt me…

Instead, they put their arms around, and held me tight.

“You are not alone.” One told me.

“We are all in this together.” Said another.

“You are the real miracle.” Thug Ballz added, and then they got back into their car and were gone, as though they’d never been there in the first place…

…this was my first experience, though by no means my last, with the Contact Juggalos.

Yet Another Story About Juggalos

Deep within his underground fortress on Juggalo Island, Violent J sits atop a throne of skulls, contemplating his future…

He’s no longer as young as once he was, and he was never all that cool. His forces are depleted, both by time and ill-conceived wars and rivalries, and he no longer stands athwart the world like the colossus he once dreamed of becoming.

Still, he manages to maintain some trace of that which once gave him his power.

Shaggy 2 Dope, after all, remains by his side, ever loyal to their shared cause.

His armies, though scattered to the four winds and seemingly lost forever, remain in their hearts true to him, merely awaiting his call to reapply their war paint and return to action.

And yes, they have enough Faygo. There will always be enough Faygo.

So he rises , his decision made, his resolve steeled, and prepares to announce his plans to those who serve him, and with whom he serves.

He’ll drop a new album in May.

The Dark Carnival will rise again.

And he’ll just have to pray that he can work his Miracles one more time…

Bronies Vs. Juggalos

They came in greater numbers than we’d anticipated, and better armed to boot.

Their black and white warpaint, designed to terrify, succeeded admirably, and they still had access to the old weapons, from the before time. Weapons powered by magnets, though they knew not how they worked.

Attacking in one massive wave, trying to break our will. And for a moment, we did fear.

But hope’s never lost, and we have our own weapons.

Faith in ourselves, and each other.

The power of teamwork.

And yes, friendship, which has it’s own magic.

…and we shall pray that that’ll be enough.

Pest Control

After the third time I found my garden dug up I decided something had to be done.

So one spring morning, before the crack of dawn, I crept into my yard to see what it was eating my lettuce.

The sight was disgusting to say the least.

He crouched in my carrot patch, purple cargos hanging low, leather jacket covered in patches and chains, blue and red thread running through his dreadlocks.

His face ghastly pale, his lips and eyes jet black.

Quietly, I returned to the house to find my wife.

“Honey? We’ve got Juggalos. Fetch me the shotgun.”