Friday, March 14, 2014

Friday Flash Fiction: A Classic Prank

Every Friday, Kurt posts a new piece of flash fiction. This week...

A Classic Prank
Word Count: 600
(Trigger warning: story contains references to violence against women.)

“We should have started with the bed,” said Stubbs, grunting under his end of the desk. “Built the rest of the room around it.”

“We wouldn’t have gotten it out first,” said Tyler. “The TV was in the way. Are you sure this is a good idea?”

They hefted the desk down the hallway and angled it around into the stairwell.

“It’s a classic prank,” said Stubbs. “I can’t wait to see the look on Turk’s face. Hold your end higher. It’s slipping.”

Tyler adjusted. “That better?”

“Yes, thanks,” said Stubbs.

They got the desk down the stairs and out onto the porch and set it up next to the TV stand, the mini-fridge, the lamp. They’d arranged every stick of furniture from Turk Hansen’s dorm-room on the porch. They’d even run a few power chords out so the television could be playing. Tyler smiled. Porching was indeed a classic prank. But still…

“Everybody’s so tense lately, you know?” he said as they headed back up the steps.

“Hard to imagine why,” said Stubbs. “Four freshman girls missing in as many months. This is just what we need to break the tension. How long is Turk in class?”

“Another twenty-five minutes,” said Tyler. “Unless they let out early.”

“Plenty of time,” said Stubbs, picking up Turk’s computer tower. “Besides, Reggie’s in that class with him. He’ll text if something comes up.”

“Turk’s gonna be pissed,” said Tyler, carrying the monitor and keyboard.

“What’s to be pissed about?” asked Stubbs. “It’s a classic prank. We’ll all have a laugh and then we’ll help him put it back.”

“He hates it when people mess with his stuff,” said Tyler.

“Well, he can pull the stick out of his ass,” said Stubbs. “Then we’ll all laugh and help him put it back.” He plugged the computer into one of the extension cords and turned it on while Tyler attached the monitor. “What should he have on his screen? Gay porn?”

“I don’t know his Windows password,” said Tyler, “and neither do you.”

“Oh yeah,” said Stubbs. “Oh well. That just leaves the bed.”

They headed back up the stairs to Turk’s room.

“I still think he’s going to be pissed,” said Tyler.

“Then he should lock his room.”

“He did,” said Tyler. “You unlocked it.”

Stubbs grinned stupidly. They each grabbed an edge of the mattress and lifted it off the bed.

“Where do you think they went?” asked Stubbs.

“Who?”

“Those girls.”

“Who knows,” said Tyler. “They all knew each other, right? Probably just running away. First taste of college freedom went straight to their heads, or something.”

They lifted the box spring from the frame.

“I don’t buy it,” said Stubbs. “Probably got themselves axe-murdered or something.”

They stood the box spring up and heard a thunk from inside.

“What they hell was that?” asked Tyler.

Stubbs’ phone rang. “Oh shit, it’s Reggie,” he said.

“There’s something in there,” said Tyler.

“Yo,” said Stubbs.

Tyler reached a hand in and felt around. His fingers found something plastic.

“Turk? What are you doing on Reggie’s phone?”

Tyler wrapped his hand around the plastic and pulled it out. It was a sandwich bag.

“I confiscated it,” said Turk’s voice. Tyler could hear it. And it wasn’t coming from the phone. It was in the doorway.

Tyler looked at the bag in his hands. Inside, wrapped in gauze, were four individual, female fingers. He dropped it.

“Oh, fuck me,” he said.

“I thought I told you guys not to mess with my stuff,” said Turk. The door closed behind him.

Edited by Carolyn "What The Hell Is That Smell?" Abram

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1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Power chord? Someone playing a mean guitar?