It was a cold October night, the mist was hanging in the air with nothing but silence holding it up. As I was walking to my car several blocks down I heard what sounded like a failed radio career following me.. its footsteps getting louder as I kept walking. For about 5 minutes I kept hearing noises accompanied by heavy breathing. Then it all stopped. I thought I was safe.

I opened up my car but was suddenly yanked back into the darkness. The only light in the area was a flickering street light and it was with that streetlight that I saw it was Denny Falcone pulsating in front of my eyes. He tied me up with a microphone F-Cable and put on the best possible music to get raped to: Brown Sugar by the Rolling Stones.

After that moment, everything went black and I still have fragments of memories appearing in my nightmares. His progeria lizard looking face eyeing me down.

If you are also a victim of that sick fuck Dennis Falcone, remember you're not alone.

Suicide Hotline: 1-800-273-8255