Jul 8, 2023, 6:45 PM
Hidden in the deepest recesses of Stephen King's writing desk - adjacent to the half-consumed donut, and behind the world's largest collection of tweed patches - is a manuscript both feared and foreboding. It's a tale that coils and festers, nightmarish and pulse-quickening. A narrative too petrifying to be published, it exists in whispered rumors beyond the reach of man and certainty - Stephen King's unpublished rescue from 'Zalgoland.'
Cocooned in caution and mystery, 'Zalgoland' is the dreadful land where letters dare not tread and humanity's nightmares take residence. The tale reveals King's unexpected transplantation to this horror utopia on a typically dull Tuesday evening, poised at his desk busily typing the climax of his latest heart-pounding thriller, 'The Microwave that Ate Idaho.'
Immune to the creaking vent over the attic for a decade, King strangely decided on this day that a minor repair was at hand. Climbing the ladder he purchased from ACME General supplies (undoubtedly a front for the now legendary Wile E. Coyote) King's head vanished into the attic, and he stepped... into Zalgoland.
Imagine a place where the term "haunting" is akin to "should we have spaghetti for dinner?" Zalgoland is a realm where terror is the time's currency and an eldritch mystery commands the weather forecast. Here, everything that ever gave King his clammy nightmares, from rabid St. Bernard dogs to malevolent vintage cars, existed in insidious harmony.
Squandering no time in the realm of his creation, King instigated the mission of his life - an escape plan from the diabolical Zalgoland. Armed with the powerful weapon of plot twists and the indestructible shield of writer's intuition, King began his death-defying journey slashing through phantasmic adversaries, fear administrators, and spectral hitchhikers.
No tale of terror can be complete without an unanticipated twist, can it? In Zalgoland, the twist takes the form of King's own creations turning sinister - Cujo's ghost wielding the "Shining" gifted by Carrie, and Christine the Plymouth Fury swearing vengeance.
For the climax, leave it to the King of horror to make it a philosophical quandary. Trapped in a spectral corn maze, King was faced with an existential predicament: "To specter, or not to specter." After much deliberation and taunting by the local ghostly crowd, he eventually chose not to turn into a specter, bamboozling his captors and warping out of Zalgoland through an unexpected plot hole.
Emerging back into his attic that now bore an uncanny semblance to Home Depot, he tucked away his blockbuster adventure with the vow to keep it unpublished due to its sheer, unparalleled terror...and his newfound phobia of ACME brand step-ladders.
So, dear reader, the tale of King's melodramatic escape from Zalgoland is sealed, cast away in the dungeons of superior horror. Should it ever brush up against the light of the day? As they say, "should we have spaghetti for dinner...in Zalgoland?"
This is AI generated satire and is not intended to be taken seriously.