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The Bronson Chronicles
posted Monday, 5 March 2007
A couple of days ago I found myself on a blog called the Groovy Age of Horror and discovered that its host was holding a Nazisploitation Nanofiction contest, wherein people were asked to write an awesome work of exploitation fiction featuring nazis that was less than a hundred words long. On the spot I decided to contribute a piece and came up with the following:
A Brief Excerpt From 1957’s Brick Bronson and the Fascist Dead by Stoney M. Badess
“Nazi zombies!” gulped Timmy. “They’re the worst!”
“You said it, my little friend,” nodded Brick. “We certainly have our work cut out for us. Thankfully I know someone who can help.”
“Who’s that Mr. Bronson?”
“Her name is Gretchen Meyer and her father is the world’s leading expert on fascism and the living dead,” Brick paused, “but…she might not want to talk to me.”
“Why not?”
“I once accidentally melted off half of her face with a jar of hydrochloric acid.”
“Gee, Mr. Bronson, you do that a lot….”
“Yeah,” Brick looked sad. “I think I may have a problem….
And since I had so much fun doing it, I've decided to continue the series here at The House of Glib.
Here now are two more excerpts for your enjoyment:
A Brief Excerpt From 1961’s Brick Bronson and the Werewolves of Walla-Walla by Stoney M. Badess
“You must do it, Brick!” Petra screamed at her lover, tears streaming down her cheeks. “The full moon is about to rise and when it does I shall become an animal! You must kill me before that happens!”
Brick was unmoved.
“I like animals,” he shrugged as he held her.
“But you don’t understand! I won’t be able to stop myself!”
“Que sera sera, babycakes,” he smiled at her.
“Aren’t you afraid?”
“Listen my little lycanthrope,” he said sweetly, “Brick Bronson is only scared of two things in this world.”
“What are they?”
“Moths and Liberace, baby. Moths and Liberace.”
Brick was unmoved.
“I like animals,” he shrugged as he held her.
“But you don’t understand! I won’t be able to stop myself!”
“Que sera sera, babycakes,” he smiled at her.
“Aren’t you afraid?”
“Listen my little lycanthrope,” he said sweetly, “Brick Bronson is only scared of two things in this world.”
“What are they?”
“Moths and Liberace, baby. Moths and Liberace.”
A Brief Excerpt From 1954’s Brick Bronson and the Phantom’s Tomb by Stoney M. Badess
“Mr. Bronson!” shouted Timmy. “The walls are closing in around us!”
“Yeah,” agreed Brick. “I noticed that too.”
“What are we going to do?”
Brick looked annoyed.
“Why do I always have to be the one with the answers?” he complained.
“Mr. Bronson?”
“Sometimes you can be a real dead weight around my neck, you know that? Plus most people think I only keep you around because I’m some sort of pervert.”
“Uh…the walls…”
“Uh…the walls…” Brick repeated mockingly.
“How is that helping?” Timmy asked angrily.
Brick looked taken aback.
“I’m sorry,” he apologized. “I skipped breakfast and I’m grumpy.”
More to come....
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