The garage was a place spoken about only in whispers by other members of Junior’s crew.
“Bad things happened in the garage.”
“I hear he stores body parts in there.”
“He soundproofed the entire building. You know what that means.”
Now I found myself headed to the garage with Junior’s psychotic enforcer. Like I said, fuck my life.
Years later I saw a movie, Mad Max Beyond Thunderdome. I knew I had PTSD because I kept twitching and looking over my shoulder for Fuck Me Eddy while listening to the dialogue.
“Two men enter, one man leave.”
“Remember where you are – this is Thunderdome, and death is listening, and will take the first man that screams.”
“Dyin’ time’s here.”
I wish I’d never seen the flick. Can’t watch it to this day. Every time I think about Thunderdome I catch the electric current time machine back to that night when Fuck Me Eddy took me to the garage.
Two men enter, one man leave.
Eddy led me to the garage and produced a set of keys. He went through the mechanics of unlocking six deadbolts in the steel door. When he’d disengaged the last lock he pushed the door into the dark and said, “After you, fucknuts.”
I stepped into the darkness fully expecting a pool cue to slam into my skull.
Categories: Short Stories
Tags: short stories