Arriving a few days later, #13’s explicit message suggested the sender had recently been in direct contact with Ryan, having ordered a drink from him at the bar where he works.
Arriving a few days later, #13’s explicit message suggested the sender had recently been in direct contact with Ryan, having ordered a drink from him at the bar where he works.
A postmark stamped on the front this card is dated December 1, 2014. A mangled one on the back looks like it might read December 2.
Curiously, this card arrived without a postage stamp. Unclear whether the stamp fell off in transit or it never had one; regardless, it made it to Ryan’s mailbox.
It’s not immediately apparent from the on-screen image, but whoever sent this significantly embellished the original postcard. Fortunately, I was able to find a copy of Scribble It!, the book by Taro Gomi. It’s interesting to compare the before and after…
The eleventh card was postmarked November 19, 2014.
The text on the back reads:
With a black heart undercover, watching you sleep everynight
We’re made for each other, honestly if you only knew
EVERY NIGHT I’M WATCHING YOU!
I noticed a rhyme and meter in the last two lines suggestive of song lyrics; indeed, a Google search of “With a black heart undercover” yielded “Macaulay McCulkin” by The Fall of Troy.
Full lyrics:
With a black heart undercover,
Watching you sleep every night.
I wish you’d watch me too.
We’re made for each other…
Honey if you only knew, every night I’m watching you.Shut up, you’re talking too loud for me to not listen.
This operation’s gotten old, the face I stole,
The gun of lust shot through your soul,
And all that’s left is empty holes.With a black heart undercover,
Watching you sleep every night.
I wish you’d watch me too.
We’re made for each other…
Honey if you only knew, every night I’m watching you.Mom and Dad can’t help you anymore.
Get in the car, we’ll drive far to the end of the shore.
Under the docks, on top of the rocks,
Knock knock knock knock
Why the fuck are the doors locked?!Maybe she forgot about our talks.
Or maybe I’m mistaken.
But I swear to god that she’s not getting out of this without some kind of explanation.
Oh I’m straining on your patience?
Maybe scaring you a little?
Just because I came to visit doesn’t mean you have to hide.
I’ll be waiting on the side of your house,
With an empty bodybag
And a loaded .45And now you wont forget my fucking name!
And now you wont forget my fucking name!You’re tearing me up, inside my mind.
You walked in front, I ran behind…
The tenth postcard to arrive came from the same source as the ninth: Scribble It! 30 Postcards, by Taro Gomi.
(Same creepy clown stamp, too.)
This card is referencing Transformers, the media franchise created in the 1980s that encompasses toys, animated TV series and films, comic books, and video games.
He’s as slow and stupid as he looks. Plays back the messages he carries, thinks others are talking about him, goes into violent rages. End result is usually destruction of messages and nearby small towns that get in his way. In stegosaurus mode, plates on back, like teeth on a chainsaw, cut through almost any substance; carries 2 solar-powered vibro-cannons.
The handwritten portion on the front reads:
Perhaps it’s just those eyes, or the odd, somewhat alien nature of their speech—or the malevolent, predatory nature that those who encounter them can feel lurking just beneath the surface. No one has stuck around long enough to find out just who or what they really are. Perhaps you’ll find out some dark night, on some side street as you’re walking ALONE.
Let us know, will you?