This Book Is Full of Spiders: Seriously, Dude, Don't Touch It (John Dies at the End)
David Wong
Language: English
Pages: 464
ISBN: 1250036658
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
From David Wong, the writer of the cult sensation John Dies at the End,omes another terrifying and hilarious tale of almost Armageddon at the hands of two hopeless heroes.
Warning: You may have a huge, invisible spider living in your skull. THIS IS NOT A METAPHOR.
You will dismiss this as ridiculous fear-mongering. Dismissing things as ridiculous fear-mongering is, in fact, the first symptom of parasitic spider infection -- the creature stimulates skepticism, in order to prevent you from seeking a cure. That's just as well, since the "cure" involves learning what a chainsaw tastes like. You can't feel the spider, because it controls your nerve endings. You won't even feel it when it breeds. And it will breed.
Just stay calm, and remember that telling you about the spider situation is not the same as having caused it. I'm just the messenger. Even if I did sort of cause it. Either way, I won't hold it against you if you're upset. I know that's just the spider talking.
"Like an episode of AMC's "The Walking Dead" written by Douglas Adams of "The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy." …Imagine a mentally ill narrator describing the zombie apocalypse while drunk, and the end result is unlike any other book of the genre. Seriously, dude, touch it and read it." –Washington Post
"Kevin Smith's Clerks meets H.P. Lovecraft in this exceptional thriller… David Wong (Jason Pargin) is a fantastic author with a supernatural talent for humor. If you want a poignant, laugh-out-loud funny, disturbing, ridiculous, self-aware, socially relevant horror novel than This Book is Full of Spiders: Seriously Dude, Don't Touch It is the one and only book for you." –SF Signal
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to check up on him, right? John?” “I don’t know, man.” “Let’s get home, we’ll see if they got anything about it on TV.” But he had stopped, saying, “No point, all you’ll get is the news after it gets filtered for the reporters. We’ll get better information if we go back down there.” “We’d just be in the—” I stopped at the sound of a distant scream. John said, “You hear that?” “No.” Another cop car zipped past. How many of those did we have in this town? “Come on, Dave.” John took off walking
banging my shin painfully off the bumper on the way, whispering, “John! No! Leave it!” Inside, I realized that we weren’t alone. The mystery box was being guarded by six more GI Joe action figures, each carrying a little plastic assault rifle. They were wearing tiny black suits with face masks. I guess more Cobra than GI Joe, then. John grabbed the box and jumped out into the night, oblivious to my slurred demands to leave it behind. * * * If you’re asking yourself what exactly John expected to
nearest doorway. She wasn’t even paying attention to what store she walked into, she just knew that on her dazed trip to the restroom, she passed a lot of televisions and cell phone kiosks and a gauntlet of muttering, worried people. She sat the cupcakes on a shelf outside the door because it seemed weird to take them in. It’s amazing how your body affects your outlook on the world. Using the bathroom and walking around and splashing some water on her face, it made all the difference in the
stand up (answer: nine days). Then again the quarantine would be full of doctors so they probably had all kinds of stuff there. She bought nasal strips—couldn’t sleep without them. She wanted some over-the-counter allergy pills. All gone. She looked for antacid tablets for David, all those were gone but they had some tropical-flavored Tums that even in an emergency nobody would buy. Tampon aisle was bare. She also noticed the condom case was empty, though she figured that was a little too, uh,
one of the thin, yellow spaghetti tentacles flick up between his teeth. Tim’s body thrashed once, twice, three times. There was a huge, wet slurping sound, and then he slumped over sideways. When he did, he left behind a wad of guts the size of a potato sack. The yellow tentacles reached up and dragged the pink pile under the dirt, leaving behind nothing but a gopher hole in the ground, soaked in blood. An out-of-breath Wheelchair Guy stopped behind TJ and said, “Fuckin’ Carlos, man. Told ya we
