Demo: Goblin {Changeling}

Narrated claim that a timeshare 'examination' with masked Strangers yields a dark reading of Earthling charge for cleats.

Another Strangers adaptation. Enjoy! 

DISCLAIMER: This work of fanfiction/adaptation offers no ties to the referenced series/franchise/films of inspiration and is cast (therefore) as purely a 'personal' expression for social arts (for 'open' translation). 

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There I was, in my Berkshires timeshare, carrying-on in my Earthling time of retreat from work (architect-stuff in Boston-town), opting for an early Autumn private studio exercise of generating some very special comic art friendly goblin representation of mod-Western (American Homeland) terrorism paranoia in my post-9/11 Selfie-age of life/traffic linked everyday experience securities imagery for exchanges/capitalism thesauruses (Facebook-like!).

My name's Amlan Satan and I studied at Dartmouth and the University of California and learned to weave in sociological meme-IQ for architecture and civilization designs for basic/utilitarian forms of representation of social/human consciousness, and I took the Berkshires timeshare get-away package as personal Selfie-respiration, which is when the two (masked) pre-Halloween season Strangers found me, requiring ultimate football (for the Ego!).

ME: This is a cartoon color drawing (stick-figure) of a demo avatar for bombs.

STRANGERS: Yes, we read your blog; maybe we're Berkshires vacationers here!

ME: I need not know your ID behind those two eerie masks, Strangers (ok).

STRANGERS: We liked your little pumpkin-bomb throwing goblin (Leviathan).

ME: I named the goblin as a demo-art for Homeland/Earth terrorism mythos, ok.

STRANGERS: That's why we're here...to convince you we're real Goblins, mister.

ME: What?

STRANGERS: The art of invasion-change (for bread).

ME: I'll pay you to pass-over my abode, Strangers (please!).

STRANGERS: If you make us an exact replica demo-avatar/goblin (Leviathan).

ME: Facebook-like.

I did what the two (masked!) Strangers required, and they seemed pleased, and I expressed my sigh of relief (damn). They revealed the two antique rifles, refurbished they would've used to bloody murder me in my own timeshare abode that Autumn in the Homeland (America). Somehow my demo-avatar/goblin remake/replica had miraculously pleased them, perhaps because they were fans of terrorism-stories or Halloween/comic-art fare or goblin-variety adjective for gun-shy diplomacy (well).

GIRLFRIEND: Happy Halloween, Mr. Satan, my prince.

ME: We look great; can't wait to go trick-or-treating.

GIRLFRIEND: We should get some pumpkin-candies or marshmallow varieties, ok!

ME: Someday I'll tell you a (dark!) secret, darling.

GIRLFRIEND: Whatever...Halloween's bread (for the Ego).

I never told my girlfriend (my wife now) of that (dark) Berkshires secret of the Leviathan miracle. I instead made her some doughnut-hole treats for Super Bowl Sunday (TV) on one particular occasion when I thought to reveal the Rationalism behind the revelation that life on Earth wasn't simply/purely...haven-chore for the tummy (damn).

"Doing well is the result of doing good. That's what capitalism is all about" (Ralph Waldo Emerson). 

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"Money is everything" (Ecclesiastes)