1167. Burning bus

When Garth set fire to the bus it was so he could drive it while still burning into the wing of the local hospital. It was an old wooden building. He did it because his life time enemy, Josephine, was in a bed somewhere there.

It so happened that all patients were able to walk, and very quickly they gathered at the bottom of the staircase ready to make a hasty retreat outside.

Garth was still in the bus, laughing his head off. His aim, once the building was aflame, was to dash outside and never be seen again.

As Garth alighted from the bus ready to make his dash, Patient Gwendoline tripped him up with her crutches. Patient Josephine, who had just finished reading “Fifty Shades of Grey” and whose husband, while she was in hospital, had brought her some grapes and a pair of handcuffs to cheer her up, managed to handcuff Garth as he passed and close the other end of the handcuffs over the springs of a bed on wheels.

All traipsed quickly out, except for Garth who dragged the bed behind him and got stuck in the doorway. He burned to death. His dying screams could be heard all over the suburb.

Now, children, tomorrow’s Halloween. The bed Garth burned to death in is the very bed you’re lying in. I managed to get it cheap at the secondhand place. I’m going to turn the light out and you’re all to get a good night’s sleep. We don’t want kiddies yawning their way through trick or treating tomorrow do we?

19 thoughts on “1167. Burning bus

  1. Nitin

    This is brutal. “Fifty shades of grey” of all books used in some constructive (albeit destructive) way. The kids are going to renounce Halloween completely.

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  2. umashankar

    I am awed by your fifty shades of humour! You have shredded apart the wicked madness of writing Halloween posts and the wickeder prurience of Josephine in a singular, devastating stroke.

    PS: Incidentally, I too had started writing a preternatural piece but quit it halfway. I am happy I shelved the project —there is no way I could have withstood the tsunami you have let loose!

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  3. Shubha Athavale

    The Trick of Treats
    Cynthia Jobin

    Beware the trick of treats, my little one,
    of sugary ideals, of endless halcyon

    as you go forth this hallowed eventide
    your begging pleasure bag held open wide

    go not oblivious, bewitched into oblivion.

    Candy corn spits from a saw-toothed gun
    marshmallow ghosts devour a skeleton

    behind your mask’s deceit remain clear-eyed:
    beware the trick of treats.

    This world’s a mixing bowl of bleak and fun
    of up and down, of swapping rain and sun

    two one-eyed tadpoles circling inside
    give a close chase that’s never satisfied

    and bitters dwell with sweets, my little one,
    beware the trick of treats.

    Liked by 4 people

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