3 Idiots And A Shovel [MW2017]

3 Idiots And A Shovel
Writer

It had been a long drive and I still had over 300 miles to go. It was getting late but I was going to push as far as possible on this dark and moonless Halloween night. Interstate 95 has long stretches of nothing. Trees line the road on either side. At 1 am on a Wednesday morning the traffic was rather thin.

A Red Bull and a bottle of water were knocking on the door of my bladder. Scanning the road for an indication of the next gas station stop, I saw the blue sign with the information I needed. 42 Miles. There was no way I’d make that so I hit the brakes and drifted over to the shoulder. It was late and traffic was light. It would only take a few seconds to relieve myself.

I stepped out of my truck and was greeted by the cool autumn air. The tree line was only about 10 yards away from the road. Crunching the dead leaves beneath my feet I made my way just out of sight from the road and into the woods.

As I stood there taking deep breaths of the fresh air, I noticed a faint smell of a camp fire. Scanning the woods I noticed a faint glow of a fire with 3 figures standing around it about 200 yards away.

What the hell are these idiots doing out here? Probably some kids messing around on Halloween.

I didn’t give it another thought as I turned to head back to my truck but a shrill scream stopped me dead in my tracks. I stood still for a moment listening. I could faintly hear them talking but couldn't make out the words.

Deciding to get a closer look I crept as quietly as one could through the fallen foliage. I was within 50 yards now. I could make out the figures. One was dressed as a cat with a cowboy hat, vest, and boots, the second was in a suit and top hat but turned away from me so I couldn’t see his face, and the third was dressed in full Masonic gear and his skin was painted a marble white to look like a statue. He had his hand outstretched to the cowboy and was holding a bloody looking clump of something. A heart?

“Here eat this” he commanded.

“I’m not eating that you said you would prepare it nicely first” snapped the feline cowboy.

“And I have! If you want to meet Cthulhu it must be consumed fresh.” The demented looking Albert Pike wannabe shoved the bloody mess into the man’s face.

“Have him do it, I’m supposed to be on a diet” he replied as he motioned to the man in the suit.


“Quite being a wuss, I’ve already done this before. It actually taste pretty good” the mystery man cheerfully replied.

Reluctantly the cowboy grabbed the heart and took a big bite. As he did the flames of the small fire grew tall and started to spark green and purple. More blood curdling screams started to emanate from the pit they were standing around.

Demonic laughter carried through the woods. My brain was screaming at my body to run but I was paralyzed, unable to move. That’s when I noticed the mystery man in the suit was missing. I heard a twig snap behind me.

I turned just in time to see the man in the suits face for the first time. He looked like a stoner Jesus with sun glasses, he smiled as he swung the shovel high above his head and brought it down towards my noggin with devastating force.

Everything went black.

I was fading in and out of consciousness, catching tiny glimpses of my predicament. I was laying in the pit. I saw the 3 figures dancing and laughing above me. Chanting a language I could not understand. Then next to me I saw the source of the scream.

It was a fat little house cat. Maybe pregnant? I could see its name tag covered in blood. It read ‘Cleo’.

The last thing I remember before blacking out again was the 3 wierdos getting right over top of me, evil smiles like the joker himself plastered their faces. They were holding ritualistic knives adorned with shrunken heads and gems of every color.

When I awoke again it was early morning, the fire was now just a few smoldering embers. The men were gone, Cleo’s body was also gone. I tried to sit up but a sharp pain laid me back down. That’s when I noticed the staples. I had been cut open in multiple places across my torso and crudely stapled back together with a staple gun that was covered in blood and lying next to me.

I willed myself to get up. The pain was almost unbearable but I managed to stand up and prop myself against a tree. Slowly, I made my way back to the road, clutching at my side, grunting and cursing the whole way.

I finally felt a little relief when I reached the road and saw my truck was still there. I climbed in and sat for a moment trying to gather my thoughts. What the hell happened to me?

When I looked down I saw a small note on my steering wheel. It read

“Hey Fauxy, The 3 Idiots and Cleo thank you for your sacrifice. See you soon!”

I tossed it out the window. Idiots
=======================================================================================

“So you see my dear, that’s why you’re here now. In the woods, lying next to a bloody corpse of a cat! It doesn’t make much sense to you now but I will make you see!”

I let out a maniacal laugh as I lift the knife high above my head, the young woman lie beneath the blade screaming in terror, the flames grow high and bright as ghostly figures of the 3 idiots rise from the flames. I bring the blade down and plunge it deep as laughter echoes throughout the forest.

THE END

😂😂😂

a reply to: FauxMulder

A worthy entry into the Library of Congress, right next to Homer's "Iliad" and "The Odyssey".

a reply to: DBCowboy

Thank you. I think it could replace the bible in notoriety. Just give it about 2000 years.

originally posted by: FauxMulder
a reply to: DBCowboy

Thank you. I think it could replace the bible in notoriety. Just give it about 2000 years.

I did say, "Oh Jesus" when I read it!

a reply to: DBCowboy

I saw you!

a reply to: FauxMulder

I...I'm speechless after reading your story.

...At least until my attorney is present.

a reply to: IAMTAT

It was some other guy.....honest!

*throws heaps of paper into the fireplace*

a reply to: FauxMulder


I don't recognize any of the people in the story, nor do I admit to owning a ritualistic knife that's not hanging over my mantel right now.

a reply to: FauxMulder

Well, going over your story, can't wait for Part II.

Entertaining to say the least.

Kind regards,

bally

a reply to: AugustusMasonicus

I dont see how you could. They were scraped from the deepest depths of my depraved mind. Tottaly fictional.

P.S. sorry I didn't clean the knife before putting it back over the mantle.

a reply to: FauxMulder

See thats the difference between a writer , you , and a non writer , me . . Great job

originally posted by: FauxMulder
I dont see how you could. They were scraped from the deepest depths of my depraved mind. Tottaly fictional.

P.S. sorry I didn't clean the knife before putting it back over the mantle.

I am working on a similar type story that details how we don't ever do any of the things you described.