Attack of the Bug-Eyed Coat Hanger

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As I go to church every Sunday, I often come across a coat hanger standing right next to the Clerk’s office. I never trusted that thing because I never wore a coat to church and it seems to have eyes like those of an alien or a bug, but that doesn’t stop me from toying with it. One night, I heard what sounded like wooden footsteps and then a knock on my bedroom door. I was too tired to see who was knocking.

When I woke up the following morning, the coat hanger from the church house was standing right in front of me. I had no idea how it got there, but I dared not to find out. Then I heard the wooden footsteps from the night before. Paranoid, I turned around. I wish I hadn’t.

The coat hanger was standing right behind me. It’s “head” turned to face me to reveal those “eyes”. I ran into the family room, but it followed me as it trotted on its two front legs (the one and only back leg was used as a tail). I ran outside and hopped into a neighbor’s pickup truck. I told the neighbor “quick, drive me to Hixson High” and with that, we took off like there was no tomorrow.

As I laid in the trunk, I was shocked to see that the coat hanger was laying right next to me. I picked it up and threw it out. The neighbor asked what the matter was and just as I turned to answer, I was even more shocked to see that the coat hanger was running right towards us. I told the driver to pick up speed and he did, losing the coat hanger as we speeded right past a police car.

We pulled over at our destination so that the police would give my neighbor a speeding ticket. No sooner did the coat hanger caught up and the two officers initiated fire with an LWRC M6A1 carbine and a Taurus Tracker Model 455 revolver, with the driver joining them with a Mossberg 500A Field Gun. I ran into the building and settled in Room 205. While I was surfing the Internet looking at level maps for videogames, I heard a choking noise. I turned around to see the coat hanger shoving a bar of soap down a student’s throat for saying a bad word. I was shocked to see that it grew a pair of arms like the broomstick from Fantasia.

The coat hanger drew a Taurus Tracker Model 455 revolver out of hammerspace and fired at me, but I blocked the bullets with the chair I was sitting on. While it was reloading its gun, The SRO came in, drew his Glock 31 pistol, and shot at the coat hanger to no avail. He was shot in the leg when I escaped. I met up with my father and he took me to Chatt State, where I saw the coat hanger holding a student in place while tickling her from behind. It saw me, let the harassed lady go, and continuously knocked one of its prongs against my noggin.

My dad came in to help me by punching the coat hanger’s head only to make it spin. The head stopped spinning with the soul-piercing eyes staring straight at him. Poor Dad became paralyzed with fear as the coat hanger used an electric pencil sharpener to sharpen its fingers into claws. It scratched his head so hard that it even caused four sebaceous cysts to come out of the cuts. This gave me a chance to escape and hop a passenger train that was pulled by a steam locomotive of the Pacific (4-6-2) Whyte notation.

I was about to settle down when a familiar horror caught my eye: The coat hanger. In its hand was blood and the cysts that were in by dad’s head. I got up with a start and began to run to the caboose, followed by the hanger. The surrounding passengers were just as shocked as I was, if not more so, to see a coat hanger with a mind of its own. I reached the caboose and hopped a freight train, where the coat hanger was waiting.

It punched me in the face and I fell backwards. I spotted a Franchi SPAS-12 shotgun with a foldable stock and twenty-four rounds of 12 Gauge perched on top on a crateful of others with fixed stocks. I grabbed the gun, locked and loaded, sat the chambering mode to manual, and fired away. The eighth and final shot blew the coat hanger’s head clean off, but my victory was short-lived as four robotic tentacles similar to those of Doc Ock sprang from the back of the wooden menace and reassembled its head. I watched in horror as the remade head spun around slowly and its eyes started to glow red with a demonic voice asking “do you know what she’ll do, your berking daughter?”

I reloaded the shotgun, sat the chambering mode to semiauto, and resumed shooting to no avail. I placed the firearm back on its perch and climbed to the roof of the train, where the coat hanger started to approach me from the diesel. It chased me all the way to the end, where I had no choice but to throw myself into the Tennessee River. Before I could hit the water, I was saved by a tractor beam that pulled me straight up into a flying saucer with the Coat Hanger proceeding to fall into the river below.

“Greetings earthling,” I heard a voice say. The spaceship's occupant was a female green alien who vaguely resembled Sarah Jessica Parker in her early thirties. She was clad in a white-and-pink sleeveless skintight shirt that left her navel exposed (presumably her race’s way of showing the inhabitants of other planets that she was born from a mother instead of thin air), an Egyptian collar necklace, a pink miniskirt, white ankle-length socks, and black Maryjane shoes with pink high heels (which could explain her pigeon-toed footing and the nickname that I gave her: Goody Two-Shoes). Her hair was hot pink and her eyes were as black as beetles with no irises or pupils. There was also a small silver device strapped onto her left arm by a pink band; it was a nerplex container (if you don’t know what nerplex is, go watch the My Favorite Martian movie and find out).

“I see you have developed an interest in my zoot suit,” flirted Goody Two-Shoes. “It’s skimpy so that you can see my ticklish armpits and cute little bellybutton, not to mention my lovely legs and my knobby knees, both of which are left exposed by these pretty white socks. Did I mention that I’m pigeon toed?” Speechless, I shook my head. “I see,” she continued, “suppose you want to see my expertise at dancing?” I nodded my head, again at a loss for words. “Very well,” she cooed.

I stared in awe as the alien exploited her expertise at dancing, the mere sight of which gave me an erection. She gave me a kiss on the cheek and I swooned, falling flat on my face to the floor. I watched as it changed from a generic gray color to see-through, showing me a good view of Earth, the Solar System, and the Milky Way as the flying saucer soared deep into the cosmos through hyperspace. A scream of laughter startled me and I got up on my feet. I wish I hadn’t.

Goody Two-Shoes was undergoing tickle torture as the coat hanger held her in place while pushing her bellybutton and tickling her loins, midriff, armpits, and kneepits with its now-dull fingers. It spotted me, discarded the alien, and approached me saying “stick your thumb up her nose, you melon-farming worthless thumb-sucker!” A rack of DC-15A laser rifles caught my eye. I grabbed one of those fancy sci-fi weapons, locked and loaded, and blasted away. The coat hanger appeared to be shocked by the loss of its arms.

Goody Two-Shoes, having recovered from her stimulating experience, cowered to the controls of her flying saucer, ejected the coat hanger into space, and flew back to Earth via hyperspace, but it teleported back onto her spaceship only to be ejected into a random forest, where it got shot down by deer hunters with what sounded like Remington Model 7600 rifles, Colt Python revolvers, and Heckler & Koch HK94A3 submachine guns. This caught the attention of the US Air Force as they sent Lockheed AC-130 gunships, Boeing AH-64 Apache attack helicopters, Boeing F-15 Eagle fighters, Northrop Grumman B-2 Spirit stealth bombers, and Sikorsky CH-53E Super Stallion helicopters to shoot us down. Fortunately, this unidentified flying object didn’t come unarmed.

Me sitting right next to her at the controls for what only felt like hours gave Goody Two-Shoes the nerve to ask me if I could massage her arms, legs, and abdomen while her ship was on autopilot mode. So I did; her skin was very smooth and warm. Goody Two-Shoes actually had the heart to teleport me back to Hixson before zooming back to infinity and beyond via hyperspace, never to be seen again. My experience with that cute alien would be best described as a “Big-Lipped Alligator Moment;” a situation that comes right the heck out of nowhere, has little to no bearing whatsoever on the plot, is way over-the-top in terms of ridiculousness (even within the context of this creepypasta), and no one ever speaks of it again after it happens.

Anyway, I walked back into my house to see that my dad was alive and well, except for the bandages on his head where his cysts used to be. As I went into the family room to do some research on dealing with living furniture, I heard my dad cussing his head off out of frustration, followed by a choking noise. I rushed into the living room to see what the matter was. I wish I hadn’t.

The coat hanger was back with its arms regenerated (although its hands were black this time around). I caught it in the act of shoving a bar of soap down my father’s throat. It turned its head to me and said “Your mother will be sucking stalagmites in the Inferno, Haywood Krueger, you faithless slime!” Infuriated, I chased that coat hanger clear across the house until we got outside, where I took out an ax and hacked it to pieces. When I went back inside the house, I heard multiple wooden footsteps.

I looked out the window and saw a whole army of identical coat hangers marching towards the door, armed with Springfield M1903 rifles in Mannlicher-Schönauer carbine stocks with M1917 bayonets and Pedersen Devices. Some even looked like dwarf spiders. Without hesitation, I called the police and they responded immediately, knowing that I wasn’t kidding due to the incidents that occurred the previous morning. I was suddenly grabbed by a giant hand. It was connected to a wooden dragon that resembled a mix between Ridley from the Metroid Series and Solaris from Sonic Next-Gen. With ax still in hand, I swung at the monster’s arm, causing it to drop me. I got up on my feet to see it dropping the ax on one of its own minions, cutting it in half to let it regenerate into two separate coat hangers. “What do you want from me!” I shouted.

“Your life,” the lead coat hanger replied as it looked down towards me. “You see, I am the ghost of a member of a future terrorist organization known as CZAR, the Christian Zealotry of America and Russia. We’ll be founded under the impression that nobody practices Christianity the way they used to because the Devil has corrupted the world. So, we’ll go out of our way to convert everyone through paramilitary force.”

Confused by this revelation, I asked, “what does Christian extremism have to do with me?” The lead coat hanger replied, “You would direct an animated movie that would unintentionally insult the Catholic Church, depicting them as religious extremists. The controversy surrounding that film would open a can of worms, ranging from a holy war between these United States and the European Union, to national socialists blaming economic depressions on the Autism Spectrum, to a third world war. My goal is to prevent all of that from happening by going back in time to eradicate you, thus erasing that abomination of a cartoon flick from existence.”

I was dumbstruck. Me, a movie director? How would that be possible? Why would I cause so much offense towards anyone based on their religious faith? Wouldn’t I have the foggiest idea of what hornets’ nest I’d be stirring up in the future? None of this made sense to me!

My thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the sound of gunshots; the police had finally arrived with their LWRC M6A1 and Ruger AC556 rifles, Glock 31 pistols, Taurus Tracker Model 455 revolvers, Taurus MT-40 submachine guns, Remington 870 shotguns, Remington 700PSS sniper rifles, and Heckler & Koch AG-C grenade launchers and commenced fire with little effort. A Special Weapons and Tactics team arrived with its arsenal of FN Five-seveN pistols, FN Barracuda revolvers, FN P90 submachine guns, FN SLP shotguns, FN F2000 and FN SCAR-H rifles, FN SSR sniper rifles, and FN GL-1 grenade launchers and commenced fire with some effort. The National Guard arrived with Colt M16 and FN FAL rifles, Beretta 92FS pistols, Smith & Wesson Model 29 revolvers, Heckler & Koch MP5A3 submachine guns, Franchi SPAS-12 shotguns, Knight’s Armament SR-25 sniper rifles, Browning M2HB and FN Minimi machine guns, GE M134 miniguns, M67 hand grenades, Colt M203 grenade launchers, Milkor MGLs, Carl Gustav M2 rocket launchers, M2 Flamethrowers, M48 Patton tanks, M9 Bayonets, and sabers and commenced fire with great effort.

Between waves of armed personnel, I realized that the coat hanger was unable to regenerate properly after getting burned. Peaking inside the ribcage of the lead coat hanger, I saw a red holographic head where the heart should be. Any projectile that touched it would go through it harmlessly. I asked God to give me a weapon that would be effective against ghosts. And by that, He gave me the Holy Hand Grenade of Antioch, the only weapon that could decimate whoever or whatever would touch it.

And the Lord spoke, saying “first thou shalt take out the Holy Pin. Then thou shalt count to three, no more, no less. Three shalt be the number thou shalt count and the number of the counting shalt be three. Four thou shalt not count, neither shalt thou count to two, excepting that thou shalt proceed to three. Five is right out. Once the number three, being the 'magic' number, be reached, then lobbest thou the Holy Hand Grenade of Antioch towards thy foe, who, being naughty in My sight, shall sniff it.”

I did as the Lord had instructed me to do. I removed the Holy Pin, counted to three, and lobbed the Holy Hand Grenade at the core of the lead coat hanger, obliterating it. The army of living coat hangers stopped dead in its tracks and crumbled into dust. Every Sunday after that, I would go to church and come across a coat hanger identical to the one I had destroyed standing right next to the Clerk’s office. Thankfully, this one isn’t possessed by any ghost from the future.

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Credited to Zimloki