Crossover with the Cottingley Fairies

Dear Sir Conan Doyle,

As you can see from the enclosed photograph, fairies are very, very real. Very real. So fucking real. I have a photo with them, taken in the back yard.

If you want more photos of fairies, please send Frusen Glädjé to the return address. You will literally shit yourself when you see the other photos. If you think fairies look real in the enclosed photo, they will look realer than real in the other photos. Thank you so much! Fairies are real!

hearts and crosses,

Bald Witch
Replica Bar
Manderlay

"This is never going to work, Hecate," said the Bald Witch after she finished writing the letter to Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.

Crossover with an awesome fiber optic mullet

Malcolm stood outside his father's bedroom and knocked.

Duncan stirred.

"What is it?", Duncan asked.

"I request an audience with the king," said Malcom.

"Enter," said Duncan.

As Malcolm entered his father's bedroom, Duncan immediately stood up and pointed at his son's head.

"What," he asked, "is that?"

Malcolm touched the awesome fiber optic mullet that he had recently added to his attire and responded to his father's question.

"Dad, I'm trying out a new look. Everyone in this abandoned school is wearing clothes to suggest the faded glamor of some imaginary Alfred Hitchcock world of the 1930s. I want to stand out a bit. This feels more like me."

"First the jaunty beret, now this! I won't have it. I forbid this! By the power vested in me, get a decent haircut!"

"Too bad. I've already worn it on Regis and Kelly this morning."


"I've also worn it to Fraggle Rock."

Crossover with "The West Wing"

Scotland's Deputy Chief of Staff Josh Lyman and Deputy Communications Director Sam Seaborn were pacing down the hallway of the Old Lincoln School at a brisk pace, speaking to each other as they walked.

"What I don't get," said Josh Lyman, "is why Duncan is giving Thane of Cawdor to Macbeth in the first place."

Sam Seaborn responded, "It's a thing. From the war."

"A thing?"

"A sign of respect."

"If you ask me, it's trouble."

Scotland's newly appointed Press Secretary, Bald Witch, emerged from the auditorium and began walking alongside Sam and Josh.

"Press is going to have a field day with this Cawdor thing," Bald Witch said.

"Press is already having a field day," said Josh Lyman.

"I predicted it. Predicted and foretold," said Bald Witch. "You guys should listen to me about Birnham Wood coming to Dunsinane, too. Because that is a thing that is going to happen."

Sam Seaborn looked puzzled and recited some obscure trivia involving Gilbert and Sullivan.

Bald Witch said, "I've got Hecate at 11:30" and ran down the stairwell.

Josh Lyman asked, "What's the thing with Hecate? Do I need to be in on that?"

"She wants the import tax lowered on Frusen Gladje, and Bald Witch has it covered."

Lyman ran his hands through his thinning hair. "Good," he muttered. "Hecate gives me the willies."

Crossover with "Garfield"

"Why do you get to be the only one during the rave who wears an animal head?", Hecate asked the Male Witch.

The Male Witch shrugged. "It's a consultation. I'm sure it means something. It's important for the... consulting."

"I'm going to try and wear an animal head next time," said Hecate. "Using MAGIC."

Hecate started to cast some kind of magic spell. Using magic.

The Male Witch balked, "Are you sure it's a good idea to use magic while your ring is still missing?"

Suddenly, Garfield entered the room.

"Excuse me," said Garfield. "Has anyone seen Odie?"

"Oh dear," said Hecate when the spell finished. "That went poorly."

Crossover with Popular Imagery from the 2008 Presidential Election

Crossover with a Renaissance Faire

"I can't believe I paid twenty-six dollars to get in here," said MacDuff to Lady MacDuff as they wandered the grounds of the Renaissance Festival.

Lady MacDuff agreed.

"The food is overpriced. They're making us use this weird ticketing system to buy the damn food. Seven dollars for a beer? You'd think this was taking place at Oberon!"

Over at the entertainment stage, the witches were not faring much better.

"A juggler? A damn juggler? That's the entertainment?", said the Male Witch, disgusted. "I saw a thing earlier that claimed to be a dance party, but there was no techno music, no goat heads, and everybody kept fully clothed through the whole thing. You call that a dance party? NOT WHERE I COME FROM YOU DON'T!"

"I don't get it," said the Long-Haired Witch. "Are the people dressed up part of the show or are they just dressed up in medieval clothing to hang out? And if that juggler thinks I'm going to tip him after paying twenty-six dollars to get in here just so I could watch the juggler in the first place he's seriously delusional."

The Bald Witch looked around, anxiously. "Uh, guys," she said. "Where'd Hecate go?"

Hecate was over by the concession stand, screaming.

"What do you mean, you don't serve Frusen Glädjé?!?!??!", she shouted.

At the jousting arena, Macbeth and Lady Macbeth were focused on the King of the faire.

"All you have to do," Lady Macbeth said to Macbeth, "is kill the king of this overpriced monstrosity and then *you* can become king of the Renaissance Faire! They'll be jousting for us!" She held out a weapon.

"Is this a dagger I see before me?", Macbeth asked.

"Yes it is," said Lady Macbeth. "But it's made out of plastic. To kill the King you'll need to buy a real one. I think I saw one for sale for like seven hundred dollars over in the shopping area."

Macbeth kicked the dirt. "What a rip-off!"

Crossover with "In the Aeroplane Over the Sea"

Banquo was in a good mood as he entered the Second Mrs. De Winter's hidden room. The Second Mrs. de Winter was already in there, sticking pins in apples. And listening to a record.

"What are you listening to?", Banquo asked.

"It's called 'In the Aeroplane Over the Sea' and it's by Neutral Milk Hotel. It's kind of a concept record about Anne Frank."

Banquo listened.

"He's singing about a two-headed boy trapped in a glass jar. I must have missed that part of the Diary of Anne Frank."

"It's not a one-for-one comparison", the Second Mrs. de Winter said. She stopped sticking pins in apples. "It's more imagistic than that."

Banquo listened some more.

"'How I would push my fingers through your mouth to make those muscles move?' Anne Frank didn't do that either. You're making the concept record stuff up. This is like when everybody said 'Exile in Guyville' was an answer record to 'Exile on Main Street' despite the songs on both albums not really having anything to do with each other. You're just parroting whatever they're saying on pitchfork about this. Admit it."

The Second Mrs. de Winter screamed.

"You. Have. No. Soul." She threw Banquo out of the room and sang along really loudly and off-key with "Holland, 1945." It was awesome.

Crossover with Online Dating

That's it. I'm done with online dating.

I know I've said it before, but after this last freakshow I mean it this time. This guy.... I'm just going to use his real name - it's Malcolm - in case any of you reading this see his profile and can avoid what I went through. His profile seemed mostly normal - he seemed to have a penchant for jaunty berets, but aside from that he came off as being nice enough.

My first clue that something was off was when I suggested we meet at a local bar and he said we should meet in the basement of the Old Lincoln School. Who the hell schedules a date in the basement of an abandoned school? I don't know what I was thinking when I agreed... trying to be nice I guess.

Anyway, we meet up and I introduce myself and he doesn't say a word, but I recognize him (same beret as the photo - and let me just say that it is one JAUNTY beret) and he takes my hand and leads me into a room with a red light, then he shut and locked the door. There's a metal cart with a tray of eggs on it. Malcolm takes note of the eggs, and jostles me to one side.

Then this crazy fuck pulls out a big magnifying glass and starts looking at the eggs through the magnifying glass. While he's doing this I ask him if he's seen "Inception", and he ignores me... just keeps looking at the eggs. He seems thrilled by these damn eggs. Then he takes one of the eggs and breaks it in my hand, and the egg is full of dirt.

Malcolm then looks at me - FINALLY - and asks "Who are you?"

"Uh, hello?" I responded. "I'm your DATE. You ASKED ME TO SHOW UP HERE."

Now Malcolm is holding his big-ass magnifying glass between our faces and screaming "HAVE YOU READ THE SIGNS?!??!"

I haven't read the signs.

Then he FLIPS THE METAL CART OVER, TURNS OUT THE LIGHT, AND STARTS AWKWARDLY MAKING OUT WITH ME. The whole thing was weird. Weird weird weird.

Then he just ran out of the room. No phone number exchange. No "Do you want to check out that new restaurant?" No "you're really cool but I think we work better as friends." He was just outta there.

I am done with these freakshows. Mark my words. Done done done. I still have one scheduled date that I haven't gone on yet, but the guy seems pretty nice, even if his screen name - MaleWitch1 - is a little weird. No beret at least!

He says he wants to show me his pet deer. I love animals.

Crossover with the "Cheers and Jeers" section of "TV Guide"

(Note: TV Guide's Cheers and Jeers section guest-edited this week by reader Mrs. Danvers of Manderlay)

CHEERS to Lady Macbeth. Things were so boring before you suggested we chase Lady MacDuff around with that glass of milk. Now it's our favorite thing to do. Hooray!

JEERS to the Second Mrs. De Winter. You're no Rebecca! And you never will be! Why don't you just die in a fire already?

CHEERS to MacDuff. I'd do the door-dance with you ANY DAY OF THE WEEK MY MAN!

JEERS to walking down stairs. Why the fuck would you do that when you can tumble down them maniacally instead?

CHEERS to mixing up strange concoctions and then grabbing unsuspecting people in white masks and forcing him or her to drink said strange concoction. As I always say, it's nice to have a hobby.

JEERS to the Sleep No More Crossover Fan Fiction Blog. Will you get a life already?!?