"OUR SON HAS COME HOME!!"

This story is a BIT BUBBLY Kiddies!  It's about an evil Father whose Son is rather DEAD RIGHT in the CREEPY-CONCLUSION of this DREADFUL-DILEMMA!  This HEARTWORMING TALE is called...
One day back in the Spring of 1950, a young boy was swimming in a lake down in southern-Georgia.  A young man watched him from on shore.  "Y'all won't be comin' back home with me Henry" the man called to the boy, drinking a bottle of Jack Daniel's Whiskey.  "What Pa?" the boy called back to the man and the man went into the lake and held his son's face down into the water, drowning him.  Six years later, the young man was smoking a cigar, reading a newspaper in a rocking-chair on his front porch one evening.  "George, supper's ready!" a woman's voice called out from in the house to the man.  "Alright Maddie I'm comin' Sweetheart" George called back and got up, going into the house.  George kiseed Maddie on her lips in the dining-room and sat down at the table with her.  
The doorbell suddenly rang.  "Dagnabbit, who could that be at suppertime?!" George exclaimed, angrily.  He answered the door and didn't see anybody.  "Hello?  Y'all come out from hidin' ya hear now!" George called out, but a hot-breeze blew through the trees.  George slammed the door shut and found Maddie looking out the living room-window.  "OUR SON HAS COME HOME!!" Maddie yelled at George.  "What in tarnation are you yammering about Maddie??" he carried on in reply and took off out the door.  George looked around and saw a ghostly-skeletal-hand clutch his wrist.  It was the ghoulish-looking zombified-ghost of his son Henry.  The ghostly-zombie of the boy was a sickening-light-blue color and he stood, covered in pond-scum and underwater-plants.  The zombified-spirit gurgled and spewed a combination of water and blueish-slime out of its boney-mouth.  George screamed and screamed, as the ghostly-zombie plunged its other underwater-plant-covered-ghostly-hand into his stomach, twisting the ghostly-bones of it around.  George coughed, sputtered out his pipe and was killed.  The ghostly-zombie tore its hand out of the stomach of the corpse and vanished with it.  Moments later, it was sinking down, into the pond, holding his father's body, pulling it down beneath the surface of the water with it's rotting, ghostly-hands of blue-bones.  
Heh-Heh, poor George had to really POND-ER who was at the GORE eh?  When he saw that it was his Son Henry, he ended up not HAVING THE STOMACH to see him hee-hee-hee!