The Possession of Grandma Jessie (And Her Bingo Club of Doom)"

Chapter 1: The Devil Wears Cardigans

It all started on a rainy Tuesday in the quiet town of Fernhollow. Thunder rumbled ominously. Birds flew backwards. And Grandma jessie baked her world-famous prune muffins with just a pinch too much cinnamon—which, as everyone knows, is the exact amount needed to open a gateway to Hell.

She didn’t mean to summon the demon Glorbulax the Skin-Melter. She was just following her late Aunt Ruth’s secret muffin recipe, which included a strange line written in Latin: "Hoc est corpus diaboli."

“No idea what that means,” Jessie chuckled as she stirred the batter with her haunted spoon (which she bought at a garage sale for 50 cents and a Werther’s Original).

The moment the muffins came out of the oven, the kitchen lights flickered. The air grew cold. And something under the floor whispered, “More cinnamon.”

Chapter 2: The Bingo Ritual

Jessie, now unknowingly possessed by Glorbulax, strutted into the weekly Wednesday Bingo Night at the community center like she owned the place—mostly because she did. She wore a sweater with kittens on it, but now the kittens had tiny glowing red eyes and appeared to be whispering secrets to each other in ancient Sumerian.

Her fellow Bingo gals—Agnes, Doris, Ethel, and Chainsaw Carol (don’t ask why that name)—immediately noticed something was off.

“You look different, Jessie.” Agnes said, frowning.

“Yes,” Jessie replied in a voice that sounded like someone gargling gravel in a blender. “I feel...reborn.”

“Did you try that new moisturizer from Rite Aid?” asked Doris. “I hear it’s got goat enzymes.”

Glorbulax smirked. “Something like that.”

Chapter 3: The Rise of the Infernal Bingo Cult

By the third round of Bingo, Jessie had enchanted the balls to float on their own. When Ethel called “B-12,” the lights dimmed and a disembodied hand clapped politely.

Everyone applauded, assuming it was part of a new AARP program.

Soon, the Bingo club transformed into a full-blown cult. The prizes? Cursed talismans, infernal teapots, and one disturbingly animated garden gnome that wouldn’t stop whispering “succumb.”

Chainsaw Carol, immune to most supernatural forces due to her exposure to 1970s hairspray and decades of sheer willpower, began to suspect something was wrong.

“I’ve seen this before,” she growled, revving her chainsaw in the parking lot. “This is exactly like that time Myrtle got possessed by the spirit of Liberace and tried to seduce the postman with a rhinestone cannon.”

Chapter 4: The Exorcism (and Potluck Dinner)

Carol organized an exorcism under the guise of a potluck. Everyone brought their best dish. Doris made deviled eggs (ironically). Ethel brought ambrosia salad. Carol brought holy water in a thermos and a priest named Father Tony, who did part-time at the local cafe as a barista.

Midway through the potluck, Father Tony confronted Jessie chanting prayers while throwing mini crucifixes like ninja stars. It almost worked—until Glorbulax retaliated by animating the Jell-O mold into a sentient, wiggling mass of evil.

“IT WOBBLES WITH MALEVOLENCE!” screamed Agnes.

It was Chainsaw Carol who finally ended it. She threw the cursed muffin into the Bingo fire pit (don’t ask), tackled Jessie and shouted, “Back to Hell, you gluten-hating freak!”

With a pop and a smell like burnt cabbage and regret, Glorbulax was gone.

Jessie blinked. “Did I win Bingo?”

Epilogue: Back to Normal-ish

Things mostly returned to normal in Fernhollow. Jessie joined a yoga class. The gnome still whispers things, but only on Tuesdays. The muffin recipe was buried under three feet of concrete, and Carol was awarded the town’s highest honor: The Golden Chainsaw of Valor.

And from then on, the ladies always checked for Latin in their recipes—and made sure Bingo night ended before the witching hour.

THE END.