Finishing up "Horror"

So the other day I wound up talking about horror movies with someone and I realize I never wrote the reason why I started writing "The Greatest Horror Story of All Time."

I figure I'll take some time I have at the moment to write the end, and completely avoid the middle section of the story all together because I don't feel like writing the middle, and this was really all I wanted to say in the first place. So here it is, the end of the "Greatest Horror Story of All Time."

Also, please excuse any glaring spelling errors. I wrote this in an email. There's no word on this computer.


The lights are still out. Thunder roars overhead magnified by the hollow echo of Laura's vast cottage. Rugged Dave, Selpathe and Laura sit huddled in the darkness watching home movies of the recently departed Henry David Thoreau in Laura's planetarium.

Giant pictures of Henry David Thoreau dance on the ceiling. Pictures of Henry David Thoreau doing crunches, studying String Theory, and skeet shotting. You know, kid stuff.

The trio is just getting to Henry David Thoreau's opera training, they are being washed over with his beautiful 8 year old voice. Rugged Dave has a hand on Laura's thigh. It's been slowly creeping upwards. Laura is crying loudly and pushing his hand back down. Selpthe wearing her goggles and doing a rubix cube.

Rugged Dave is getting increasingly angry that he will not be getting laid this evening. "Fucking kid dies and my dick stays dry." He thinks. He then remarks to himself that he should put that on a T-shirt. "Fucking millionare." He says outloud.

"What did you say?" Asks Laura.
"Nothing. Forget it. Watch the movie." Say's Rugged Dave, secretly wishing he had said something funnier and thus justifying two lines of dialog that don't need to exist.

The group is nearing the 3D section of the movie. They ready their 3D glasses and Selpthe sets aside her rubix cube and silently resigns to peel the stickers off later, making the cube inky black and complete in it's inky blackness. "NOW WHO'S STUPID!" She screams at the puzzle.

Selpth removes her night vision goggles and relplaces them with her 3D glasses. The scene that Laura had made into a 3D masterpeice is one in which he is having a baseball toss with Rugged Dave. Rugged Dave is hurling mighty fastballs to young Henry David Thoreau. Rugged Dave is clocking himself at about 94 mph. Henry David Thoreau is swaddled in catchers equipment and is taking fastball after fastball to the midsection, his 8 year old reflexes not quite up to the task of actually catching the ball.

Laura selected this, for it combines her two favorite people and the spectacle of having a 94 mile hour fastball virtually whizzing by your head every four or five seconds. Even now, in the midst of this horrible sadness it draws Oohs and Aahs from the three.

"I'm going with the changeup, little buddy." Says the three dimensional image of Rugged Dave.
"Yes sir. I am preparing my synapses for a lapse of judgement made by the contrast of the quick movement of your arm, vs the relatively slow aproach of the ball. All is in readiness." Says the little scamp.
"Here goes" Says Rugged Dave.
"Whamp!" Says the chest plate of Henry David Thoreau
"OOOOHHHH AHHHHHH" Says Laura, Rugged Dave and Selpthe
"Sleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeessssshhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh" Says an unidentified source

"What was that unidentified source?" Cried Rugged Dave, quickly removing his 3D glasses.
"SHhh" says laura, you're missing the best part

A three dimensional Rugged Dave is standing over the limp carcass of a three dimensional Henry David Thoreau. "Always think fastball, kid. Just because I say I'm going with the changeup doesnt mean I'm throwing the changeup. Last second changes are the name of the game. You get some ice on that you'll be fine."

"Tricked indeed, says I. My broken sternum is testament to that! Quite a ruse, Rugged Dave, quite a ruse, indeed! I must go tend to my wounds. Selpthe, ready my laboratory." He even says laboratory like "Lah boor ah tooree" I want to pinch his cheeks! Henry David Thoreau!

They all share in a deep belly laugh over the funny Rugged Dave joke. Change up? Rugged Dave doesnt throw Change ups. He throws nothing but heat all day long. All Heat All the Time! Never fucking forget that.

"SLllleeeeeeeeeeeeeeshhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh" says the unidentified source.
"I don't like that unidentified source." says Rugged Dave.
"It's probably nothing." Says Laura. It's probably a good time to mention that Laura was kicked in the face by a horse when she was a small child and never quite recovered her sense of danger. Much like I, your author, pines for a big breasted woman who was born without the use of her inhibitions, Laura lost her sense of danger at a young age. Hence all the brownies all the time, she's constantly making with the brownies. While this is impossible, one dares to dream, and since this is a horror movie, you're going to have to let some reality slip away even though that noise is fucking scary and even typing it as my asshole tight, she's fine. Get me? Fine. Don't fucking argue. Eat your fucking popcorn.

"It's probably just the Air Conditioning." Says Laura

"You're probably right" says Rugged Dave. It's probably a good time to mention that Rugged Dave once dated a ram. As such, he had to fend off other male rams who were bidding for his love's attention. Rams do this by butting horns at impossibly high speeds and impacts. Rugged Dave is rugged and did it with a trucker hat and a belly full of Shlitz. During this courtship ritual Dave's better judgement collapsed like a dwarf star and is now incredibly gullible to almost any suggestion made by women in a planetariums. We all have our crosses to bear, this was his.

"PUNCH YOUR OWN FACE!" screamed Selpthe.
Dave punched himself in the face, thereby proving a ridiculous point. Thank you Selpthe.
"WELCOME!" Screamed Selpthe at nobody in particular.

"Sllllllllllleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeesssssssssssssssshhhhhhhhhh"

The planetariums 3D display was nearing an end and was currently displaying young Henry David Thoreau in a bath tub. He was rubbing at his chest which had several baseball shaped welts on it. He was delicatly dabbing at his wounds with a pink washcloth. When he realized his mother was taping from the doorway behind him, he quickly threw the washcloth at the camera which elicited one last "OOOHHHH" From the 3 person audience.

The screen went dark and the lights started to come up when Selpthe Screamed. "NOT DONE!" Laura was confused, she swore that was the end of it. The washcloth was wet and damaged the camera and she hadnt gotten another one down from her Digital Camcorder Closet yet. Afterall it was up on the fourteenth floor, and who's got the time to wait for the elevator?

But Selpthe insisted "LOOK!" and pointed at the ceiling, still wearing her 3D glasses. She remained seated and stared intently while peeling her rubix cube.

Rugged Dave and Laura looked skywards as the dark ceiling became illuminated with a faint green tint and "SLEEEESSHHHHHHHH" was heard again, this time much louder. The sound was coming from the cieling! More precicely, it was coming from the Air Conditioning duct!

"I told you, it was just the Air Conditioning" said Laura "Now let's go to bed after I make some brownies."
"You got it."
"I SAID LOOK" said Selpthe.
Rugged Dave's new orders came in and so he did, he looked towards the Air Conditioning vent. Suddenly the green tint grew brighter. Almost hard to look at. "OOOOHHHHH" Screamed Selpthe still wearing her 3D glasses.

The green tint suddenly shut off. And water gushed out of the vent. Impossible amounts of water. "I Guess the condenser went" said Laura, demonstrating surprising knowledge of her Air Conditioning system.

Water was pouring out. Gushing. The floor was now two inches deep with water when suddenly a black form flushed out of the vent and flopped on the floor in a formless heap. "AHHHH!"

The black form started to shift. Slow side to side movements, then it slowly took a stronger shape, and stood tall. It was a boy! He was facing the other way and was covered in small gashes. Small cuts bleeding rivulets of blood. He was soaked, only wearing black shorts and carying one weighted ring!

He turned slowly, the cuts were worse on the front of him. The blood was turning the waters red. It was Henry David Thoreau!"

"Henry David Thoreau!" Shouted Laura, full of surprise! "You're alive."

"Not quite, mother. Not quite." His eyes were cast downward allowing the shadows to fill his deep set eyes. His eight year old frame bleeding steadilly. "I've come for you, Rugged Dave. I've come for you."

"Fuck you." said Rugged Dave.

"You killed me, Rugged Dave. I'm here to return the favor." His dialog now trite and contrived because we're nearing the end.

"Did not."
"Did too."
"Did not."
"Did too."
"Did not."
"Did too." This went on for practically an hour because Henry David Thoreau is eight years old, and Rugged Dave didnt know what else to say.

"ENOUGH!" screamed Laura.
"OOOOHH AHHHHHH" said Selpthe

"He killed me with the weighted rings. The underwater fun game. They're 100 pounds. He threw them in, I caught one as it was floating towards the bottom, and it dragged me down to the the bottom of the very deep end where the pressure eventually killed me." Dialog is so quick and unlike the character now because he's dead! Why is he so different? Who knows?!

"The pressure! That explains the cuts!" Said Laura
"No." Said Henry David Thoreau "The cuts are from crawling through the Air Conditioning Ducts, they're full of metal screws. When air ducts are installed, screws are used to keep them in place. Hundreds of screws. Thus making travelling through them completely impossible and foolish. It's how they're built. So it never makes sense. Not ever." So precise! "But enough of the exact construction of air ducts and a giant plot hole, I'm here for you Rugged Dave. I'm taking you with me. " As Henry David Thoreau finished this line, he gestured behind him with a rubbery dead arm. A green portal opened behind him at his gesture. "OOOOOHHHHH!" said Selpthe

Screams poured out of it. Loud, haunting screams. "They're the dead. Like me. Like you. Come, David. Now is the time of your undoing." Suddenly he's back to how he used to talk, he talked normally just for the brief moments of exposition, and then he's back to his scampish, impish self. Someone get that sweetheart a taffy!

Henry David Thoreau pulled his right arm from behind his back revealing a scythe-ish curved blade. It was brown and chipped. It's as though the shape and condition of it made the threat of getting stabbed even more scary, even though gettting stabbed is getting stabbed and really, the asthetics of getting stabbed dont really result in your being more or less hurt. You get stabbed in the belly with one of those shoe cutting knives, it'll kill you and if you get stabbed in the belly with a rolling pin, it'll kill you. Same thing.

Henry David Thoreau held his weirdo knife at his side. He turned the blade over in his hand, cocked his wrist, so the blade was pointing directly to the right. The blade glinted faintly in the green light, he twisted it to add to this affect. Green. Brown. Green. Brown. Flashing terror in the eyes of Rugged Dave who advanced from the outer ring of the planetarium.

"I say, David, I always assumed your undoing would be in the planetarium. It fits." Said Henry David Thoreau, even though there was no clear way that it fit. He and Rugged Dave circled each other in the glow of Henry David Thoreau's mystical portal. They were close now, circling like lions, or rams. Rams is funnier. "Ever since that day you pelted me with those leather orbs, I've dreamt of this moment. Except, I wasnt dead in my dreams. But I was gutting you just the same. Like a fish. But now I'm dead, but, you get the idea, right? Me knife, you gutted. Now is the winter of our discontent, Mr. Dave. The Bell Tolls for Thee, Rugged fool! This is the Dawning of the Age of Aquarius, louse! It was the Best of Times for me, it is the Worst of Times for you, Rugged Dave! HAVE AT YOU!"

Henry David Thoreau lunged with all his might! He quickly closed the gap between himself and Rugged Dave, his knife held high in the air, screaming like a mad man he came in for the killing stroke!

"AHHHHHH" said Selpthe

Rugged Dave threw a Left Cross and crushed the face of Henry David Thoreau. The potal immediatly closed and Henry David Thoreau lay on the floor in a heap, holding his 8 year old face and crying. Henry David Thoreau begged for mercy, but Rugged Dave would have none of it. "Please sir, I was just kidding. With the portal and the death and the scythe and everything. I'm only 8."

Rugged Dave picked up Henry David Thoreau and walked him out of the planetarium. He carried him across the hallway and threw him straight throughthe 8th floor window. "Rugged Dave always throws the heat. Bitch." Said Rugged Dave. Mustering the corniest, barely relateable line he could think of. But remember I told you to remember that he always threw the heat? Huh? I did, because I needed to have some very obvious foreshaddowing. Actually, I needed something where people could say "Ohhhh right that's just like what he said before" even though there's no possible way you could take "Always throws the heat" and transform it into "OHhhhh, he's going to throw him out a window. See, because heat. He always THROWS it. Henry David Thoreau? He THOREAUS the Heat. You see? Fucking obvious, I knew the whole time. This movie is bullshit, when I get home I'm going to write a story about how stupid horror movies are and how fucking awesome I am."

Rugged Dave lit a cigarette and shaddow boxed for a moment. "FUcking 8 year old kid." He mused to himself. His words slight, but wise. If an eight year old kid is tormenting you and your family, punch him in the face. Throwing him out a window was a bit much, but really, just punch the little bastard in the face. You win. Instantly. Even if you're built like a dandilion and wearing a T-Shirt that says "Hopeless Romantic," take a swing. You'll win because he's 8 years old and his scull still mostly mush.

Laura aproached the window with caution because of the lengthy, underly stylized expository paragraph that just took place. "Do you think he's dead?" As she looked outside into the rain, down on the mangled carcass of her son lying dead on the pavement just north of the topiary maze.

"I don't know, baby. I don't know that we'll ever know. But yes he's dead. I threw him out the window after he caught the left cross." Said Rugged Dave. From that day forward Rugged Dave called his Left Cross "The Widow Maker" because he thought it sounded cool, and didnt know what the word Widdow meant.

Laura quit her job at the Media Company and began working at a miniature golf course to be near children. She brings home well over six figures a year.

Selpthe never did finish that rubix cube. She gave up after all the excitement and went back to her first love, Umpiring for the Milwaukee Brewers.

"THE END??"

THE END, Selpthe. The End.

More Ian and Shane, Subject to Editing

I'm probably going to trim this down a bit and make a few other changes, but I'm in the home stretch of writing it now. I havent touched it since my last post. I just spent a little time with it today flushing out the story. I'm not sure how it ends yet, I'll be doing that soon.

Ian and Shane continued

“I knew you'd feel a little high after the first time. I know I did.”
“Woozy. It's not a good feeling really. More sickish than high. High is more fun.”
“Really? Do you want some water or something?”
“Do you have some water?”
“I keep Pellegrino in the trunk.”
“Good thinking. I think I'll have one of those.”
“Pellegrino is undoubtedly the best water on the water market today.”
“I agree. Is there a water market?”
“I think so. There should be if there isn't.”
“Could we make a water market?”
“Do you mean make a building where we sell water, or establish a financial institution based on following water trends?”
“Either or.”
“I don't see why we couldn't. But we should keep on with your black people training.”
“I think we've done enough for today. For forever for that matter. My eyes aren't fully adjusted after looking at him. I'm seeing black splotches everywhere.”
“No, there are a lot of black people behind me. Don't call black people splotches, Shane.”
“I wasn't. I just thought it was an after affect. And what did I tell you about calling black people black people. African Americans please, Ian.”
“Sorry, Shane.”
“So those are all real blacked people then?”
“Yes. Which brings me to our current problem. I'm not really sure what to do at this point.”
“What do you mean, oh keeper of the plan?”
“Well, we seem to be surrounded. I'm not sure that I can get us out of here.”
“Christ. You don't think they'll let us leave?”
“I'm not sure, Shane. There's probably some sort of tariff, or barter system just to get out of the parking lot.”
“They probably don't own the parking lot, the parking lot belongs to Denny.”
“Maybe, but in effect all Denny's belong to them. None of our friends have ever been in a Denny's. I don't even know if that's how you pronounce it. It might be Den-ays. Like that clever woman from 227.”
“Good show.”
“I thought so.”
“But if what you're saying is true, then how do we get back to Landville?”
“I'm not sure exactly, you kind of ruined everything.”
“What do you mean? Why? Because I passed out because you hit the horn even though you didn't tell me it was a part of your plan that you invented to meet black people even though I didn't want to?”
“No. You're wearing a blue shirt, and I saw a movie once on A&E that said blue angers them.”
“The color blue angers black peop -- African Americans?”
“That's what I'm told, Blue and Red. I'm not sure about it, probably something to do with Rods. Or maybe even Cones.”
“Rods and Cones?”
“Cells that make up the eyeball, different A&E show. But apparently in black people they're curved incorrectly. Leading to Rod's and Consey's or something. It's a disease. It makes them mad at colors.”
“There's no way that's true.”
“Are you going to argue with A&E?”
“No, but even Peter Graves is wrong from ti-“
“C'mon man.”
“No. I really think you're wrong.”
“Not a chance, and even if I am, do you really want to get them all mad at you?”
“No, but -“
“Then why would you risk it, Shane?”
“Alright, we should probably work out another plan. I need to get home. Shelly wants to watch a movie tonight.”
“Which movie?”
“Probably some artsy nonsense.”
“She's a whore, you know.”
“Fuck you, Ian, not right now.”
“Car?”
“Car.”

Back in the car

“This whole day has gone to shit, Ian.”
“I know that, Shane.”
“What happens if they don't let us leave?”
“I'm not sure. We might have to live in the car, and there is only so much Pellegrino.”
“Can we send for help?”
”I don't know. Our cell phones are useless out here. They don't have the same technology. I don't think so anyway.”
”Damn. Maybe we can tie a note to a pigeon.”
“If you gave me your house I wouldn't touch a pigeon, Shane.”
“Yeah, you're probably right.”
“Oh shit.”
“What?”
“Look over there.”
“Is that a white guy?”
“I think it is.”
“Do we know him?”
“Probably. But he's on the other side of the parking lot and I don't think it's safe to move just yet.”
“Ian?”
“Yes, Shane.”
“I'm a little frightened.”
“Me too, Shane.”
“Ian?”
“Yes, Shane.”
“What if…”
“What is it, Shane, you can tell me.”
“What if we….catch black.”
“Don't you ever say that! That's impossible. That can't happen. It's been proven in laboratories. It's an old whites tale and I want you to get it out of your head, we're going to be fine! Just fine, Ok? I want you to say it!”
“We're going to be just fine!”
“Stop crying, idiot. You're going to attract them, they can smell fear.”
“They can?”
“Yes, like jungle cats.”
“Oh.”
“Alright, c'mon, pull it together. Let's think.”
“What do we have that we can use to barter with?”
”Pellegrino. I've got shoes on.”
“Pellegrino needs to stay, if we're stuck somewhere else we could die right here in this Mercedes. And your shoes? C'mon Shane, think clearly. How would you get in your house from the car?”
“I could have Ilsa bring me out a pair of Denzos from my bedroom.”
“Denzos? When did you get Denzos?”
“Oh, I didn't tell you. I brought a few pair home from Italy last month, beautiful shoes. Smell like sun dried apricots somehow.”
“No kidding, I've always wanted a pair of those. Awfully expensive though, three large for a pair.”
“It's worth it, 3000 is a small price to pay for your feet smelling like sun dried apricots every day.”
“I do like a good apricot.”
“I know that you do. Which is why I brought a pair back for you!”
“Oh man, Shane! You didn't!”
“I did, I was going to wait until your birthday to tell you, but now it seems like we're going to die here, stranded in your Mercedes in this jungle of black --- African American people.'
“African American.”
“African American.”
“I appreciate the shoes, Shane. Hopefully I'll see them one day.”
“I hope so too, Ian.”
“What time is it?”
“630.”
”We've been stranded here for 3 hours. There's no end in sight, Shane. We have nothing to barter with -- ”
“If only we had a chicken.”
“-- So we're probably going to die. I haven't had a latte since breakfast.”
“You didn't have a lunch latte?”
“No, I skipped it, I was feeling a little jittery from my morning latte/Jog.”
“Jogging is great.”
“Nothing like jogging with a latte. Maybe, champagne with yoga.”
“Really any type of drink with exercise is good. Or even Fresh Squeezed Orange Juice and free time is good. A bit less sophisticated, but it feels just as nice. Just a cool drink and free time.”
“I agree. But we're very far off the subject. We really have two options right now.”
“Which are?”
“Which are, we make a run for it, or we can sit here and wait for help to arrive.”
“How would help know to arrive? Nobody knows where we are, Ian!”
“Fuck. OH no. Not fuck! I've got it.”
“What, Ian, what?”
“I've got OnStar!”
“Ian, you lovely man. Hit it, let them know we're in trouble.”
“Here goes!”
“OnStar, this is Cynthia speaking.”
“HEEELLLP”
“HELLLPPBE”
“Sirs, calm down, tell OnStar what's the matter.”
“Shhh, Shane, I've got it. Hello, OnStar, My colleague and I seem to be trapped in my Mercedes.”
“If the doors are locked, I can open them from here, but it would make more sense for you to just hit the un-lock button which is on your arm rest.”
“No no, OnStar, the doors are locked on purpose, we need a rescue squadron. Maybe call my country club, or Jerry on 9th street, he's my jeweler, he'll know what to do.”
“I'm afraid I don't understand sir.”
”WE'RE TRAPPED IN A SEA OF BLA-AFRICAN AMERICANS AND WE DON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO!”
“Shane! I said I would handle this. Please, drink your Pellegrino. My friend is a little jittery, it's getting cabin feverish in here. We've been stuck in the car for almost four hours now.”
“I'm sorry sir, I'm not hearing the problem, are you out of gas, do you have a flat tire, is the engine dead?”
”Is the engine dead? Are you retarded? I said I'm trapped in a Mercedes. The engine doesn't die in a Mercedes, at most it ages, like fine wine or your better cheeses. Besides I'll have a new one before a fourth digit on the odometer pops up.”
“You hate four digits, Ian.”
“I do, Shane. It's the year 2k5, we can stop with all the numbers by now, I think.”
“I agree, tired things. Old fashioned. I don't have any twigs to count in my cave, professor old guy.”
“Sirs, Cynthia here -“
“Who the fuck is Cynthia, why are you in my roof?”
“OnStar, I'm OnStar.”
“Oh, OnStar. Someone named Cynthia just hijacked your frequency and -“
“Sir, if there's nothing else I can do for you, I've got other people to help with real problems.”
“NO! I paid good money for this phone! You help me, now. African Americans, as far as the eye can see! Is there any type of way to get out of this, can you send help, can you blast them from space with some sort of ray gun, or maybe make them sleep for a few minutes?”
”Thank you for calling OnStar, goodbye. Click.”
“She's gone. OnStar is gone. Forever. They must've gotten to her.”
“Ian?”
”Yes, Shane.”
“I'm freakin out man! We've been in this car for too long, I cant breathe coughcough I'm frightened and cold.”
“Hang on, I'll turn on the seat heater.”
“You got a seat heater with this?”
“I did, it's great on cold days. And on warm days, it's cooled, which is beautiful. I would've paid a million dollars for this car just based on the high tech testicular temperature controls.”
“Oh there it goes, that's nice right there. Keeping the boys warm, they don't know they're about to die.”
“They're in a better place already, Shane.”
“Shane?”
“Yes, Ian?”
”I think we have to make a run for it.”
“What time is it?
“830.”
”I think it would be a mistake to leave at night. They could be anywhere, they'd blend in.”
”I hadn't thought of that.”
“I think we should just get some sleep, and see about leaving in the morning. They might not be out in the early morning sun. I think it melts them or something.”
“That's vampires, Shane. We've been seeing them all day in the sun.”
“Oh right. Well, then we've got one up on the vampires then.”
”Vampires are Asian, Shane, everyone knows that.”
“Right.”
“Right.”
“To sleep?”
“To sleep.”

Morning.

“Ian. Ian wake up. We've made a terrible mistake!”
“Huh, Shelly….no… Huh? What?!”
“What the fuck, what are you saying Shelly for?”
“OH, I - uh. Dreamed about. Shells.”
“No, dick. You said Shelly. Not shells. What the fuck is going on?!”
“It's nothing, I had a dream about whores. I.E. Shelly.”
“Fuck you man, she's no whore. That's my Shelly.”
“She's a whore, she used to fuck Jerry the Jeweler.”
“So did your mother!”
“That's childish.”
“Ohhhh yeah, your mom had Jeweler Jerry all over her. All sorts of angles and ways and -“
“Shane, look at your Pellegrino.”
“Used to be like “Ohhhh Jeweler Jerry, got the diamond in his ballllls. And now I've got my own diamond in a way that no woman could -“
“Shane, stop it! Look at your Pellegrino!”
“-Probably going to need to go to the doctors, Jeweler Jerry, Gonna get that green shit all over me. Because your gold is sub par and turns green when it gets wet….oohhhhh Jewwwwwellllll Jewellllllller Jerry --- OHW! The fuck are you smacking me for?”
“Look.”
“The Pellegrino, it's shaking.”
“Yes, Shane. Do you know what that means?'
“The black fo-African Americans, they aren't hunting dinosaurs this early are they?”
“I don't think so. I think its bass. Look behind us.”
“Oh my god. The parking lot! It's full!”
“Denny's specialty is pancakes. It's a waffle house, Shane! We're in a waffle house breakfast at daybreak!”
“Good lord, we'll be sacrificed and used for syrup.”
“It's happened before.”
“AHHHHHH”
“AHHHHHH”

Panic.

“Oh my god, I don't think we can make it until lunchtime. Wait, they don't serve lunch do they?”
”I'm not sure, I cant read the hours from here.”
“What time is it, Shane?”
“7am.”
“We've got at least five hours until we can et out of here, and even then we might not be able to leave until two, maybe even two. If they have dinner, it wont be until eight or nine. We should have enough Pellegrino to last us.”
“Ah, I don't know”
”No we should, Pellegrino is delicious, but if we can hold off and only drink about five bottles a piece until then, we should be alright. We shouldn't have to eat yet.”
“I don't really eat.”
”Me neither. I stopped eating carbs, and so I just cut out the rest of it too.”
“Same here. Who needs it? I've got a whole kitchen full of food that's just going to go right into the garbage.”
“I did that last week, I put a few stereos in the cabinets, the kitchen has surround sound. It's pretty sweet.”
“I hadn't thought of that, that's a good idea. No room is really complete without surround sound. Maybe throw a hi-def flat screen into the fridge.”
“Way ahead of you.”
“Very nice, I'll have to come over and see.”
“Yes. All right. So that's not a problem, no food, but we don't eat, that's not for us. But we're stocked on Pellegrino.”
“Well actually…”
”Delicious Pellegrino, a gift from the gods.'
“Well, god's don't really exist here in this parking lot, and neither does Pellegrino.”
“No, it does, I told you, there's a case in the trunk.”
“No, it doesn't. It's gone.”
“What do you mean it's gone??”
“I drank it last night, and then I used some of it to clean up this morning.”
“What? You drank 24 bottles of Pellegrino?”
“23, I used one to wash the boys. That heater works a little too well, I tried to turn it off, but I just made it worse, and I was afraid that if I tuned it to cool, I'd either give the boys a cold, or create a thunderstorm in my balls.”
“But what the hell am I going to do without it?”
“I don't know, you should've bought more.”
“Obviously, and I will next time, but 23 bottles Shane?!”
“Don't take that tone with me, Ian, don't act like you've never drank a whole case of Pellegrino.”
”No, I haven't Shane, that's insane, I don't even know how you could physically do it, and now I'm going to die of thirst while you've glutted yourself on our rations!”
“Call onstar if you're so worried.”
“They. Got. To. Her. She's of no help to us. OnStar is dead, Shane! It's dead! I didn't want to tell you, but they bit her on the neck and now she's black! That's what happens Shane! They bite you and then you turn into one of them!”
“LIAR! You said that was impossible! You said it couldn't happen!”
”I lied to protect you Shane! You didn't need to know! I didn't want to frighten you more than you needed to be!”
“Oh my god we're doomed. Doomed. And… what was that.”
“Why is my Mercedes shaking?”
“OH MY GOD THEY'RE UNDER THE CAR! THEY'VE TUNNELED UNDER US! LIKE THAT MOVIE!”
“CALM DOWN, SHANE! They're not under the car. Not yet. But, it's worse than that.”
“How! How could it be worse?”
“We're out of gas.”
”What? We haven't driven the car in a day. How could we be out of gas?”
”I kept the car running for the air conditioner and the seat heaters.”
“You idiot!
“I didn't hear you complaining, all that talk about your balls, and how cozy everything was! “Ooh my balls, Ian, my balls. I heard it for an hour yesterday about your balls! How about now, your balls got us into this mess! You could've told me to turn off the car at any time so don't put this shit on me, Shane!”
“I didn't even know the Mercedes was on.”
“Of course not you idiot, it's a fucking Mercedes. It's smooth, Shane. Smooth!”
“Oh my god. I always knew I'd die in a Mercedes.”
“Really?”
“Well maybe not a Mercedes, but something high end. And if not a car, then a high end something else. Like my Duraunte. That's my bidet that I had installed.”
“Those are great. Like an ass massage. But without the shame.”
“Ian?”
”Yes, Shane?”
“What do we do now? We're out of water, we're out of gas, we're out of air conditioning and seat heating. It's all falling apart! I was only kind of worried before, but now I know what fear is! We're going to die in this Mercedes, Ian! Die! I never got to have sex with three women at once! I never got to spend the night in the White House. I never got to have sex with three women at the White House!”
“Calm down, Shane! Pull it together! We're out of options, my friend. It's come down to one choice, we have one choice.”
“Eat my cell phone? That'll probably kill me somehow. At least I'll get to go out my own way.”
“No, asshole. We have to make a run for it.”
“Run? What are you an idiot? How would we do that?”
“One foot in front of the other”
“Yeah, that's funny. Glad you're here to lighten the mood, Jeff Foxworthy, but I'm deadly serious, deadly, as in, we're-going-to-die-you-fucking-idiot serious.”
“We'll what the fuck do you think I mean. We run. For the highway. We stick out our thumbs and hope an Accountant or a CEO Comes by and gives us a lift.”
“That'll never work, CEO's hunt drifters for sport, and you know that!”
“I know that, you know that, everyone knows that. We have business cards on us; we know the secret hand shake. We'll be back in Landville before you know it.”
“I guess it's the only way. I think we should rest up a bit before it all starts.”
”I think that's probably the best idea.”

The Journey Home