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Friends in High Places
by Galen Black
May 15, 1995
No
one could possibly imagine what happened to me two days
ago on the 13th of May. That was the day I experienced the
most incredible events of my life. I was sitting on a park
bench feeding the pigeons to a cat, when a scream came from
over the knoll. Usually I ignore screams, because they mostly
mean trouble. But this scream drew me to it. I reached the
top of the hill in seconds flat and looked down the hill
toward the merry go round and there I saw a young lad crying.
I looked around to find his mother and she was no where
in sight. I realized my sexist thought and looked for a
father or another guardian. I found no one. The child looked
up at me and stood. Then he called my name. I freaked. Who
was this kid? I had never met him. He walked toward me.
I ran away. He chased me. I could sense he was gaining on
my. Thoughts raced through my head.
"Oh my God," I said to myself,
"he's going to feed me to that cat."
I ran harder. I tripped and
hit the ground. The child caught up with me and stood by
my head.
"Don't run from me again or
I'll hurt you," he said with a hoarse voice.
I asked him what he
wanted from me.
"Your lunch money, Butthead!"
Thinking quickly, I denied
having any lunch money and that's when he kicked my face.
"You better have it tomorrow,
Spankie."
He left skipping along the
park path and whistling the theme from "Shaft". I knew at
that moment I could never show my face in that park again.
The next day -- yesterday
-- I was hiding in my apartment eating Ritz crackers and
potted meat, when the door bell rang. I didn't open the door.
I stood perfectly still. "Spankie, you got my lunch money
today?" a voice said. I didn't answer. I recognized the
voice from the day before. Since it was 5pm, I can only
assume he didn't want my money to buy lunch. "You in there?
You better not be or I'll kick your butt." I was scared.
What on earth could I do? He knew where I lived. I had one
option, summon the spirits of the underworld to consume
the little jerk's soul. They owed me. That night at midnight,
I called upon the spirits. They were out, so I left a message.
I fell asleep waiting for them to get back to me. At about
4am I awoke to the sound of chains rattling and doors creaking.
I yelled out to my neighbors to keep the noise down. They
yelled some vulgar retort that involved me and my mother
in an illegal activity with my uncle Stew's mule. I was
about to get out of bed and tear into them, when the spirits
arrived. We chatted for a while and caught up on old times.
Then I told them my story and they agreed that something
had to be done about the little bully. We discussed what
that something was for at least 7 hours. It was 11:30am
when we finalized our plans. We waited 5 hours for the brat
to come by for my lunch money. The door bell rang at 5pm.
It was him. I could smell him. He stank with the smell of
grape bubble gum and raspberry slurpee. I calmly opened
the door and invited him in with the promise the money was
in the other room.
"Listen, Fatty! You know
why I'm here so give it up or pay the price,"the punk barked.
I laughed and clapped my hands--
the signal for the spirits to attack. And how they attacked.
They stripped every inch of flesh from his body and then
juiced him. It was gross, but I was relieved. The best part
was they left no mess and went without a word. It's great
to have friends in high places.
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