Who’s the scariest, Jason or Freddy?! I for one believe Freddy is the scariest because he pops up in your dreams.
You go to sleep and then all of sudden, BAM! There’s Freddy! There he is standing there with that wicked grin, looking all raggedy with that black hat on top of his head, and in that red and black shirt and black pants he wears, all the while teacher chalk boarding everything with those sharp, long Edward Scissorhands knives he has.
And then there’s that song. Y’all know the song!
One two, Freddy’s coming for you.
Three, four you better lock your door. Five, six grab a crucifix.
Seven, eight ya better stay awake. Nine, ten he’s back again.
Yeah, that song. You hear that song, you know something’s wrong. It’s a warning that things just ain’t going be all right.
That song plus the way Freddy looks use to scare the hell out of me. Don’t get me wrong. Jason’s scary too. That shhh, shhh, shhh music gets me too.
Plus, you see a six foot four, two hundred plus pound grown man, wet
from head to toe, wearing a hockey mask with a machete in his hand, walking around a park, you’ll haul tail and head for the hills too. I know I would!
As a matter of fact, I wouldn’t hang around where he hangs around. But y’all see, that’s the thing about Jason. He hangs around one place; with the exception of that time he made it to New York City. But other than that, you won’t run into him unless you go to Crystal Lake.
Freddy, unh-unh, he pops up in your dreams and in reality; just like that time he popped up there with Jason and them at Crystal Lake.
Jason won the fight, chopped off Freddy’s head and everything and took it down to hell with him.
But y’all get the picture. The scariest one is the one who just pops up like a relative you don’t want to see.
Man I love Friday the 13th. Friday the 13th, along with Halloween, are the two American traditions when we can just scare the hell out of folks. No worries! Folks love being scarred. It’s fun! It gives
you that adrenaline rush! And we all need that adrenaline rush sometimes. It
gets your blood pumping, the synapses firing, and it makes you want to just get up and do. Aint’ nothing like a little fear to make you say, “Lawd, I’m so glad I’m still here.”
I got everything ready because I just knew I would be flipping through all the major channels, SYFY, El Rey, HBO, Showtime, and Cinemax looking at Jason and Freddy.
I had my remote, my drinking mug filled with coca cola sitting on a coaster, my salt ‘n’ vinegar chips, and a large cheese pizza and a roll of paper towels to wipe my hands and mouth with.
Boooyyy, I was ready! I sat down on the couch, placed my feet on the coffee table, and began flipping through the channels to see all the Jason and Freddy movies that would be showing.
I turned it over to SYFY, nothing. I then turned it over to El Rey, nothing. I tried HBO, Showtime, and Cinemax and nothing, nothing, nothing.
I only lucked up when I came across this network called PARAM. PARAM just showed old Jason movies.
I should’ve known, though, not to turn it to any of those other networks. The folks over those networks have become a little too uppity lately and they believe political thrillers are what should be shown on thriller night.
Jason got the machete, Freddy got the knives, but the Game of Thrones folks got an army.
Let those highfalutin folks tell it, dead folks killing ain’t got nothing on the living killing.
I, for one, have sense enough to know that a person should fear something he can’t kill more than something he can kill.
A muthafucka popping up in yo’ dreams and killing yo’ ass is scarier than a military that you can at least run from.
You can’t run from a dead muthafucka who kills you in your dreams.
Dead muthafuckas with machetes and dead muthfuckas who pop up in yo’ dreams and who have Edward Scissorhands knives are the muthafuckas to be scarred of; not some army you will have a couple of days to get a head start on.
You got a chance to get away from the army, but you ain’t got a chance to get away from two dead muthfuckas who don’t like yo’ ass and can just pop up, without warning, and kill yo’ ass.
You try to run but Freddy pops up from behind and be like, “Surprise Muthafucka! Time to die!” Now that there is scary!
And folks like being scarred. It’s fun! It’s just such a shame that folks aren’t celebrating the American tradition of scarring the hell out of folks on Friday the 13th like they use to.