I Am the Monster Under Your Bed, But You Never Leave Your Bed… Are You Okay?

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er! Ew, I would never voluntarily look at a naked human body. What kind of monster do you think I am? On the topic of hygiene, you need to air out your acrid duvet too. It’s starting to smell worse than Death in here, and I’ve been at his presence many times! Ha ha!Oh god, please don’t cry. I forgot death is a touchy subject due to your existentialist cogitations…Umm… maybe socialize to distract from your life’s purpose. I would talk to you, but I don’t think we have any compatible interests unless you’re into H.P. Lovecraft. Fun fact: I’m the one who inspired Cthulhu! So cheer up; you’re in the presence of a freaking celebrity! Want me to carve my autograph in blood for you? No? Fine. Well, I also have some incubus or succubus pals that you can hang with? Do MORE with? No? Fine.Then find a shrink to express yourself! Don’t mention this particular exchange though otherwise they’ll toss you in the loony bin. You don’t want that, trust me. The creatures under those asylum cots are definitely battier. They’ll grab your exposed cankles at the base of your bed and YANK you into the shadow realm! Like geez, at least I have SOME restraint! They don’t, and you’ll be DEAD — eviscerated probably!Ahh, don’t cry! I keep forgetting death’s a SENSITIVE SUBJECT for you.Let me get to my most frustrating point! As a nocturnal creature, I slumber in the day. However, I cannot repose between noon and evening when all

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I hear at these hours is snivels through our shared mattress, such as: “I disgust myself,” “Am I overstaying my self-proclaimed sabbatical from my self-employed work?” or “Where’s my Mr. Darcy?? I don’t want to WORK for a living anymore!!” often followed by a guttural, 15-minute groan, squeaky bed springs and episodes of Fleabag blasting on a laptop shortly after?? Then at 2 AM, when I’m supposed to lurk in the shadows, the lights are entirely flipped on, expelling my sweet dark, and you are belting Enya’s Only Time! It’s honestly a lot! You’re scaring ME, and that’s VERY ironic!I suggest you rest by listening to the calm, cosmic whispers of the night! Or you can tune into my podcast, “Enochian Circadian,” in which I chant arcane meditations to lull prey to a drowse! Or maybe I can strangle you to sleep!Honestly, let me throttle you to sleep! That way I can finally fulfill MY raison d’être, which is siphoning nightmares into your head! Oh, you’ll have plenty of quirky dreams to share with your Starbucks colleagues in the morning! This is a win-win idea! Would you mind holding still for a second?Follow Slackjaw on <a href="https://facebook.com/SlackjawHumor">Facebook,</a> <a href="https://twitter.com/SlackjawHumor">Twitter</a>, <a href="http://instagram.com/slackjaw_humor">Instagram</a>, and <a href="https://mailchi.mp/b2680924b6b9/86k8o3akou">get our best stories once a month by email</a>.</article></body>

I Am The Monster Under Your Bed, But You Never Leave Your Bed… Are You Okay?

Hello — don’t scream. It’s me, Bo Geyman. I am the monster under your bed, but I’ve noticed you never leave your bed… are you okay?

From my basic grasp on anthropology, I’m thinking you’re NOT okay.

You are an extreme homebody, and it’s concerning me. Do you not have a career or social life? Or do you reside home all day because you’re a creature like me, deathly allergic to sunlight?

So the mess in your room is contaminating my subterranean space. Down here, I’ve found empty cans of Coors, some matches, your scorched business cards… Oh, I see… you’re having a quarter-life crisis.

It’s tough being in your twenties! Hey, I get it. Wait actually… I don’t. Mortality means nothing to me… I subsist forever! But I’ll attempt to nudge you in the right direction because contrary to popular belief, I do have a heart. That’s why I’m so great with kids.

Starting off, clean your fleshly vessel. I promise I won’t jump-scare you when you’re in the shower! Ew, I would never voluntarily look at a naked human body. What kind of monster do you think I am? On the topic of hygiene, you need to air out your acrid duvet too. It’s starting to smell worse than Death in here, and I’ve been at his presence many times! Ha ha!

Oh god, please don’t cry. I forgot death is a touchy subject due to your existentialist cogitations…

Umm… maybe socialize to distract from your life’s purpose. I would talk to you, but I don’t think we have any compatible interests unless you’re into H.P. Lovecraft. Fun fact: I’m the one who inspired Cthulhu! So cheer up; you’re in the presence of a freaking celebrity! Want me to carve my autograph in blood for you? No? Fine. Well, I also have some incubus or succubus pals that you can hang with? Do MORE with? No? Fine.

Then find a shrink to express yourself! Don’t mention this particular exchange though otherwise they’ll toss you in the loony bin. You don’t want that, trust me. The creatures under those asylum cots are definitely battier. They’ll grab your exposed cankles at the base of your bed and YANK you into the shadow realm! Like geez, at least I have SOME restraint! They don’t, and you’ll be DEAD — eviscerated probably!

Ahh, don’t cry! I keep forgetting death’s a SENSITIVE SUBJECT for you.

Let me get to my most frustrating point! As a nocturnal creature, I slumber in the day. However, I cannot repose between noon and evening when all I hear at these hours is snivels through our shared mattress, such as: “I disgust myself,” “Am I overstaying my self-proclaimed sabbatical from my self-employed work?” or “Where’s my Mr. Darcy?? I don’t want to WORK for a living anymore!!” often followed by a guttural, 15-minute groan, squeaky bed springs and episodes of Fleabag blasting on a laptop shortly after?? Then at 2 AM, when I’m supposed to lurk in the shadows, the lights are entirely flipped on, expelling my sweet dark, and you are belting Enya’s Only Time! It’s honestly a lot! You’re scaring ME, and that’s VERY ironic!

I suggest you rest by listening to the calm, cosmic whispers of the night! Or you can tune into my podcast, “Enochian Circadian,” in which I chant arcane meditations to lull prey to a drowse! Or maybe I can strangle you to sleep!

Honestly, let me throttle you to sleep! That way I can finally fulfill MY raison d’être, which is siphoning nightmares into your head! Oh, you’ll have plenty of quirky dreams to share with your Starbucks colleagues in the morning! This is a win-win idea! Would you mind holding still for a second?