The Fear

Wind howls and rain gently beats upon slanted windows. A raven cries in the dark night causing a baby to wake up and start screaming. An air of uncertainty sweeps over the little town as people pause what their doing, or stir in their beds. Women start noticing a damp chill and men start subconsciously reaching toward their gun.

Hell breaks loose as rain starts lashing toward the town. A small river forms along side the roads. A small fish in a bowl shouts, "All rivers lead toward the ocean!" before jumping out and flopping toward the stream.

A gun cracks and something gives out an inhuman cry. The wind stops beating, the rain slows to a drizzle, and the water dries out. The villagers gather in the field around the dead creature. It looked kind of like a goat, but far more sinister. The old town priest stepped forward, uttering a prayer. Looking at everyone, slowly, he spoke.

"It's Iowa. And it's dead."

The Decision

In this following section, I have no idea how the process actually works. However, I will not let that get in the way of my creative process. After all, it's just entertainment...

Three women with glasses balanced on their sharp noses squinted hard in the harsh fluorescent light at the sheets they held in their hand. Helen was nearing eighty and was raised in a strict Catholic home. She went to mass whenever service was held. Which was more often than her more laid back husband wished. She found the white environment of her job to be cleansing. None of the three ladies spoke. Janet was closer to 45 and found the white room to be painful on her eyes. It was the money that kept her going. Jenna was fresh out of college. She pulled her hair behind her ears and poked her scholarly glasses farther up. She did this job purely for enjoyment's sake. These were the people who previewed each music album before it hit the shelves to decide whether it was going to be a Parental Advisory or not.*

The three ladies took a vote on the current album. "No." "No." a pause. "No." Jenna took charge and put it on the "safe" pile. "Next we have the new Slipknot album titled, 'Vol. 3: The Subliminal Verses.'"

Helen winced visibly. "I remember back when 'Iowa' was up for our review. Such a foul album. Too much mother f***ing and throat slitting. Well, let's get it over with. Give us the lyrics, Janet."

The sheets were handed out and the ladies started reading. They each had a paper in front of them to make notes on. Helen looked for sexual references. Janet looked for violence. Jenna looked for language. They all kept their eyes open for anything else that mothers would call "dangerous." With a red pen, the ladies worked, checking off boxes and scribbling notes.