Night Of The Living Ding Ding

Below you will find the results of my having challenged myself for a number of days to write a short story with a beginning and middle and an end inside of 30 minutes. Here is what I came up with. I hope you like it.

The best part was getting Barbo wound up. We’d watch horror flicks, and, at the climactic moments, he’d start to hyperventilate from fear. Of course, we’d make it worse by screaming and jumping behind the couch. One time, Danny pulled back the curtains and claimed he could see The Mummy lurching down Clinton Street. Barbo totally lost it.

Night Of The Living Dead was maybe a bit more than Barbo could handle, and we probably shouldn’t have watched it, in retrospect. Barbo used to get upset watching cardboard flying saucers land; we didn’t stop to wonder how he’d handle cannibalism.

Well, he knocked the TV set over, which wasn’t easy. He screamed and charged across the living room. He grabbed the back corner of the Zenith, which was about the size of a washing machine, and flipped it forward. You could hear the screen shatter.

Barbo tried to tear the particle board backing off the thing, presumably to pull out the wires, but Les tackled him.

None of us saw Barbo again. He’d was edited out of our lives, after that. I never knew whether it was my mom who made that decision, or his.

The last time… I was at the kitchen table, and I was looking at college applications.

My mom said, “Do you remember Barbo?”

Of course. I was kind of thrown that she’d bring him up.

He was working as a security guard at the mall.

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