PDA

View Full Version : Revenge (Language Warning-700 words)



J Anfinson
May 22nd, 2014, 04:38 AM
This one's been on the back burner for a long time. Finally managed to crank it out.

***

Naturally my car breaks down on the worst stretch of road possible. There’s nothing but swampland for miles, and the chances of meeting another motorist are slim enough that I may as well start walking.

Surely one of the locals has a phone. I walk along the highway until I find a worn dirt road and follow it through the ancient, towering cypress trees. The mingling smells of moss and stagnant water are overpowering and I’m considering turning back when I see a rusted pickup further ahead, and beyond that is a ramshackle building made of sheet metal.

They probably won’t have a phone but maybe I can bribe them into driving me to the nearest town. I’ve got ten dollars in my pocket, I hope it’s enough.

I don’t have to knock. A big, meaty guy throws the door open and stands there looking at me. He’s holding a rifle.

“What the hell do you want?”

I swallow. “I’m sorry to bother you, sir. My car broke down and I need a phone. You wouldn’t happen to have one do you?”

The man grins, steps forward and extends one hand in a gesture to look around. “Do you see any phone lines around here, boy? Where do you think you are, anyway? Hollywood?”

“No sir. I don’t suppose you know where I could find one.”

He laughs. “Bout twenty-five miles east of here.”

Shit. Ten dollars isn’t going to make a difference. I’ll be lucky to get out of here without getting shot the way it is.

“I guess I’ll be on my way, then. It was good to meet you.” I start to turn and go back the way I came.

“Well, hold on there, chief.” He sets the gun down, leaning it against the door frame. “I’m not real used to company, see, and I might have come across a bit harsh. How about I drive you on up the road a ways. I’ve gotta go see a fella about some pigs here in a bit.”

I turn back. “That would be a tremendous help to me. I could even give you some gas money.”

“Sounds good. Hey, listen, I was just about to have a bite to eat. You like fresh meat?”

I’m not real sure about this, but it would be rude to turn him down. “You bet I do.”

“Come on in, then. Supper’s about done.” He picks the gun up and takes it inside. I follow.

There’s a torn and faded sofa against the wall to the left and a bed at the rear. A cast iron fireplace is on the right, and there’s a pot of boiling water on top with a large slab of meat in it. The inside of the shack reeks, making me gag.

“What’s that smell?” I say it without thinking. He turns to look at me.

“Supper.”

Well, this is awkward. I’ve insulted him. I couldn’t help it, though. I’ve never smelled anything this awful in my life.

“What is it?”

“Skunk ape.”

“Skun— wait… Bigfoot? You’re eating a fucking bigfoot?”

He looks over to where he put his gun down on the sofa. “You’re damn right I am. Those sons-a-bitches ate my pigs. By God, I’ll eat those fuckers right back.”

This can’t be real. He’s got to be messing with me.

He walks over to the pot and takes the meat out with a pair of tongs, putting it on a plate. Then gets two more plates and cuts the whole thing in two.

“And guess who gets to help finish this one off…” He glances up at me while he carves into the meat. I wouldn’t have thought it could smell any worse than when I walked in but it does now that he’s cutting into it.

“I should probably be go—“

“Sit your ass down and dig in,” the man says. “Unless you want to end up in that pot with the next one.”

It’s not so bad, come to find. Kind of tastes like chicken.

apple
May 22nd, 2014, 03:31 PM
Ha ha ha That is a great, fun, story. It kept me going from beginning to end. You were able to capture your characters so well. That last line was priceless and told me exactly how smart and adaptable your guy was (and was intending to be). The writing was sharp and clean. I enjoyed it. Good work. apple

J Anfinson
May 22nd, 2014, 05:21 PM
Thanks. I thought the initial idea was pretty amusing. Just took several months to figure out the circumstances.

Cran
May 22nd, 2014, 06:09 PM
Thanks. I thought the initial idea was pretty amusing. Just took several months to figure out the circumstances.
How long to get rid of the smell after trialing different Bigfoot recipes? Boiled? Was it brine-pickled first, like corned beef/silverside?

InstituteMan
May 22nd, 2014, 07:04 PM
That was fun! I bet it would taste terrible. The best line I have read in anything in quite a while is “Skun— wait… Bigfoot? You’re eating a fucking bigfoot?”

One bit of confusion for me was the cast iron "fireplace," which I have always heard called a stove. Maybe I have just been hanging out with the non-Bigfoot eating crowd, though. Could be the Bigfoot eaters call them fireplaces.

J Anfinson
May 22nd, 2014, 07:08 PM
One bit of confusion for me was the cast iron "fireplace," which I have always heard called a stove. Maybe I have just been hanging out with the non-Bigfoot eating crowd, though. Could be the Bigfoot eaters call them fireplaces.

Thanks! I had one growing up that functioned as both. Stove probably would read better.

Quentin
May 23rd, 2014, 08:59 AM
Hahaha. That last line really got me laughing (shit, now my boss knows I'm not working).
"Tastes like chicken." I've never given it much thought but seeing it in your story got me thinking. It feels like this is the kind of generic expression people use to describe meat they are not used to. A bit like snake. People say it tastes like chicken... It doesn't.

Anyway, I love your style. Especially the way you manage to capture the essence of your characters and set the scene in so few words. I enjoyed it a lot!

J Anfinson
May 23rd, 2014, 11:12 AM
:tickled_pink: I'd be lying if I said good reviews don't mean anything to me. It's the things like this that keep me going some days.

Pluralized
May 23rd, 2014, 11:22 AM
That was a fun one, Anfinson. Nice work. I especially like the concept of some guy in a shack just eatin' some Skunk Ape, and that's this poor narrator's luck.

Only one thing: Shit. Ten dollars isn’t going to make a difference. I’ll be lucky to get out of here without getting shot the way it is.

Sometimes the musings of the narrator force-feed me an observation that I might come up with anyway. Maybe 'Shit. Ten dollars ain't gonna do it.' or some such. Think you could lose the 'I'll be lucky to get out of here without getting shot' bit.

Good work, and an enjoyable short story.

J Anfinson
May 23rd, 2014, 02:12 PM
Hey thanks. I've been having problems with spoon feeding lately, haven't I?

Pluralized
May 23rd, 2014, 02:17 PM
Oh, I think we all do!

dmr400
May 25th, 2014, 06:48 AM
I enjoyed this one :) Reminds me of a Patrick McManus story about a character named Rancid Crabtree, who mentors young pat in the ways of the wild. One of their first interactions is over a meal that contains mushrooms that Rancid supposedly picked himself. Pat is an impressionable young man with dreams of being a mountain man, so he is very curious and asks how Rancid knows the mushrooms are safe to eat. He replies something like "I alwuys feeds some to ma dog first..." and then proceeds to call the dog...call the dog...CALL THE DOG!! (Dog never shows)...Pat runs for home throwing up mushrooms. It is later revealed that Rancid doesn't even own a dog... :)

Misty Mirrors
May 29th, 2014, 04:17 AM
Excellent story.
Full of suspense.
Plenty of painting the background picture.
Simple English .... I can understand it.

TaraLin
May 29th, 2014, 05:03 AM
I really liked this. It made me laugh a couple of times. Great story :)