Jeff Noon has been experimenting with what he calls “Dub Fiction”: Using online text randomisers to scramble text, and finding new and surprising images in the results. His idea is to create something like a remix b-side that can be presented next to the original work. He demonstrates his technique here.

I wanted to try it out and remix some of my @Genrestories, so I started with all the horrors. The originals were:

Horror: “You’ll sleep like babies,” said the innkeeper. Which was true. They spent half the night screaming, and the other half throwing up.

Horror: The outbreak of vampirism amongst the walruses went completely unnoticed by everybody.

Horror: My soul haunts the spot I died, cursing those who enter the building. But someone turned it into a Home Affairs, so no one notices.

Mild Horror: Biologists studied the outbreak of zombiedom in the turtle population with interest, but not alarm.

Horror: “Bind Them Forever!” chanted the eyeless ones, holding a rusted needle. And the couple began to regret having a themed wedding.

Horor: “Fish Fingers tonight!” said New Mommy. Jimmy looked at his plate. Scales. Knuckles. They weren’t what Jimmy expected. Not at all.

Horror: “Wear this ring,” said the shopkeeper, “and all your dreams will come true.” They did. Even the one with the teeth.

Horror: Lovecraft stared at the page. During the fever he’d channeled a phantasmagorical tale of sentient beasts, and signed it “B. POTTER.”

Horror Metafiction: Vampire romances suck the life out of all new young adult novels. They turn every new book into a vampire romance.

Horror Movie Trailer: 140 IS THE NEW 666. This summer, Follow the warnings. Follow your instinct. Just don’t follow… DeathTweet.

Horror: “You used to love this before the accident. Now open wide,” said his daughter patiently, holding up a spoonful of crushed eyeballs.

Psychological Horror: She stroked his cat. A seam burst, and sawdust poured out. “I can’t let go of anything I love,” he said.

Erotic Horror: Fingertips touched the nape of her neck, stroked her shoulder, and brushed down her body, envious of its completeness.

Horror: The stone suit pinched his skin until he bled. It wouldn’t stop until he picked up the tools to carve more of them, for his family.

I remixed them, stripped out the nonsense, and polished them up. Here are the results:

“The tale begins tonight,” said DeathTweet. “There is no time for eyeless love.”

—

Jimmy hoped the teeth would go unnoticed amongst his knuckles. But everyone noticed. Biologists studied them. Lovecraft stared at their truth; their fever spot.

—

With interest and a needle, I fixed a burst seam, and pinched it closed with summer.

—

“Follow,” he said, and fingertips poured out of his hand, every one a sentient beast.

—

He held her neck open with a spoonful of vampirism. She regretted having him as a shopkeeper.

—

“Don’t follow… crushed eyeballs!”

—

The vampire’s outbreak was romantic. Envious, the zombie wouldn’t stroke his cat.

–

I can’t be a vampire if I follow your adult novels.

—

140 is new, young and true.