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Peppermint Pyramids: 'Garner Tits Make Da Mouth Pucker' Book Cover
Jennifer Garner's daughter and husband were murdered, bad; like, in cold blood, bad- the coldest of blood, bad- if the blood were chilled in a freezer at Dairy Queen and then poured over ice, and served in Antarctica, bad. The distraught mother wants revenge, because nothing honors dead family better than merciless 'n bloody murder. She enlists the help of Dick Tracy and begins hunting for the gang responsible. One of the gang member's tattoo, leads our heroes to seek out a time machine and sets a path for ancient Egypt. Success rests on finding one man; but in searching him out, it brings new enemies who aren't human; in fact, they were created to TERMINATE all humans! Bridget Chase wrote this story in 1957 after having attended a Master Class cooking class in Florida. While learning to make the 'oh so perfect' donut dough, Bridget unknowingly release Kintar Rimu an ancient Egyptian God. Kintar Rimu's soul had been vanquished to a pot of flour. Flour, which somehow ended up at the grocery store and in the hands of Bridget. The two hit it off as best friends and spent many a nights at the Mystery Emporium night club in the VIP Egyptian God section. The two discussed many things yet all conversation seemed to come back to Jennifer Garners tits. It was at this time that Bridget suggested that they team up to write the story 'Peppermint Pyramids'. Kintar and Bridget needed to do some research on Jennifer Garners tits; so, the two flew to LA. In a twist of fate while fondling those Hollywood tits a man by the name of Fred Nude stormed Ms. Garner's mansion and banished Kintar's essence into an old Virgin Olive Oil bottle. Bridget went on to write Peppermint Pyramids alone, but holds fondly the time the two had spent together at the Miami strip club.
22 pages, Kindle Edition
Published August 28, 2018
About the author
Bridget Chase
202 books1 followerBridget Chase was an author, artist, and clone. He was born in 1934 and died in 1944. Bridget was a clone of Redhat Dick and was created- fully grown- in a underground scientific laboratory in France.
By all accounts Bridget Chase was a villain. From robbery, to kidnapping, and theft of all kinds; he seemed to never find satisfaction in following rules. Dr. Stan Fantastic, Bridget's psychiatrist, deemed his activity as one born of a troubled mind.
In Dr. Fantastic's own words, "How could one blame Bridget? To be born a clone must, by all accounts, be a terrible tragedy. To not be original, a sovereign individual; well, the country itself should be held accountable. For it was shown in the case of Natalie Hotdayum, that clones are doomed from their very creation."
Bridget Chase did find some peace of mind in creating art and writing. His books are vast and follow similar patterns to his counterpart Redhat Dick featuring qualities such as weird sensibilities, bizarre story lines, and misogynistic over tones.
Bridget Chase was sought after for the death of Redhat Dick in 1943. Redhat Dick was found frozen on the snowy banks of eastern Pennsylvania. Bridget was never convicted but family and friends were never convinced of his innocence.
Bridget Chase died the following year in just as questionable of circumstances. His body was discovered in the bushes of a vacant home in Pennsylvania. The only clue being a note in his jacket pocket from an unknown entity calling themselves Instant Bunny. The note included an invitation along with a six digit number.
Redhat Dick and Bridget Chase on many occasions co authored stories. Yellowhatdick Magazine gained legal control over Bridget's work when the acquired Redhat Dick's. In 2015 Yellowhatdick Magazine began to publish their works under the publishing company Chase Entertainment.
Excerpt; Zombie Thriller
In a den of darkness, he sat.
Primordial forms slipped through the cracks which framed the door to his troubled mind.
The fireplace’s flickering torments struck harshly at the house of his soul. The licking flames built shadowy dreams along his mansion’s walls.
Shelves displaying morbid treasures were no consolation to the sadness that imprisoned his black heart.
Memories played over his pinpoint pupils. Rob Zombie’s eyes looked into infinity. Death... you bastard.
The smoke from his joint drifted in languid spirals from between his pinched lips.
Long white dreadlocks and a white beard framed his old face. Wrinkles of time, imprinted in permanent paths, scarred his features.
Rob’s high back leather chair hugged his body. Its size- making him small like a child.
And like a child, Rob was fantasizing. His dreams were a multifaceted carousel of hallucinatory images- around and around and around they went.
The tightly wrapped joint was released from his fingers and placed in the ashtray. Fire light gripped part of the chair. Rob sat in its dark shadow. Tendrils of smoke rose- dissipating into the eternity of the invisible quantum planes.
A crumpled receipt lay atop the side table, finding a home on its dark wood surface. Next to it, sat a box of single edged razors.
By all accounts Bridget Chase was a villain. From robbery, to kidnapping, and theft of all kinds; he seemed to never find satisfaction in following rules. Dr. Stan Fantastic, Bridget's psychiatrist, deemed his activity as one born of a troubled mind.
In Dr. Fantastic's own words, "How could one blame Bridget? To be born a clone must, by all accounts, be a terrible tragedy. To not be original, a sovereign individual; well, the country itself should be held accountable. For it was shown in the case of Natalie Hotdayum, that clones are doomed from their very creation."
Bridget Chase did find some peace of mind in creating art and writing. His books are vast and follow similar patterns to his counterpart Redhat Dick featuring qualities such as weird sensibilities, bizarre story lines, and misogynistic over tones.
Bridget Chase was sought after for the death of Redhat Dick in 1943. Redhat Dick was found frozen on the snowy banks of eastern Pennsylvania. Bridget was never convicted but family and friends were never convinced of his innocence.
Bridget Chase died the following year in just as questionable of circumstances. His body was discovered in the bushes of a vacant home in Pennsylvania. The only clue being a note in his jacket pocket from an unknown entity calling themselves Instant Bunny. The note included an invitation along with a six digit number.
Redhat Dick and Bridget Chase on many occasions co authored stories. Yellowhatdick Magazine gained legal control over Bridget's work when the acquired Redhat Dick's. In 2015 Yellowhatdick Magazine began to publish their works under the publishing company Chase Entertainment.
Excerpt; Zombie Thriller
In a den of darkness, he sat.
Primordial forms slipped through the cracks which framed the door to his troubled mind.
The fireplace’s flickering torments struck harshly at the house of his soul. The licking flames built shadowy dreams along his mansion’s walls.
Shelves displaying morbid treasures were no consolation to the sadness that imprisoned his black heart.
Memories played over his pinpoint pupils. Rob Zombie’s eyes looked into infinity. Death... you bastard.
The smoke from his joint drifted in languid spirals from between his pinched lips.
Long white dreadlocks and a white beard framed his old face. Wrinkles of time, imprinted in permanent paths, scarred his features.
Rob’s high back leather chair hugged his body. Its size- making him small like a child.
And like a child, Rob was fantasizing. His dreams were a multifaceted carousel of hallucinatory images- around and around and around they went.
The tightly wrapped joint was released from his fingers and placed in the ashtray. Fire light gripped part of the chair. Rob sat in its dark shadow. Tendrils of smoke rose- dissipating into the eternity of the invisible quantum planes.
A crumpled receipt lay atop the side table, finding a home on its dark wood surface. Next to it, sat a box of single edged razors.
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