Sweet Death: A Short Story

The highway was packed with cars and Liz felt like a slimy fish in between all the giant vehicles. The small silver Volvo she drove was so old and rickety that she feared for its rider’s safety, but that hadn’t stopped her and her best friend from embarking on a trip to Boston. Laura slouched in the passenger seat writing vigorously in her pocket notebook. They had just seen a hitchhiker trot by their window, laughing at everybody because they could not move; all those bastards that had refused him a ride just because he looked like a murderer now were getting nowhere. This was too good to forget, so Laura had immediately turned to her book of memories to record the wonderfully ironic event.
“This sucks ass,” Liz said for the eighth time in twenty minutes.
“Yeah, I wish we had some booze” Laura answered.
“And how,” said Liz, “Then I would be too drunk to realize that this sucks ass.”
“There had better be a good reason for this hold up, like a toppled egg van or something,” said Laura.
“Yeah, and the road would all covered in broken eggs with an old farmer standing by saying ‘tis a shame.’”
“Yeah, and a bunch of hens would be sobbing.”
“Yes, hens, hens with handkerchiefs. I’m gonna take a nap now,” Laura ended the conversation.
Liz turned her glance to all the cars in front of her, which still did not look any different. She noticed that there was a license plate a ways ahead that said “WALRUS.” Funny she thought, but also a waste of fifteen dollars. If she had had fifteen dollars, she would have gotten a plate that said “IAMCOOL.” Laura was asleep now and looked like a little happy pumpkin. Not that she was plump or had particularly jagged teeth, but she was wearing an orange shirt. With Laura’s company paused Liz began to think about Boston and the entertainment it promised. The drive should have taken about five hours at the speed they had planned to go, but the unseen delay was turning the adventure into a crapfest. Laura stirred and Liz decided she was too bored to let the little Halloween accessory sleep any longer.
“Hey, remember when Jack died?” Liz asked. The strong possibility that the delay was due to some sort of car accident had gotten her to thinking about death. Poor old Jack. Well, actually, he had been about 22 at the time.
“Man, yeah, I can’t believe they built a Circle K over the spot where he was buried, those assholes.” Laura remembered. After an unfortunate accident involving marbles and a skateboard Jack had been buried in the backyard of his parent’s home in Tucson due to his lack of religious beliefs. Plus, he had always said that cemeteries were for losers, dead losers. The city had ignored the sanctity of this situation after a few years and taken over that bit of land Jack’s parents owned. Everyone was enraged when a convenience store was promptly erected, ousting the precious memory of Jack so that people could purchase donuts and diet pills in one place. Jack had really likes slushies though.
“Those jerks,” said Liz, “I bet his ghost comes up every night and steals slushies.”
“Yeah,” Laura agreed, “and I bet he pulls funny pranks all the time like changing expiration dates on hotdogs and making people spill coffee on themselves.”
“Speaking of expired hotdogs, I’m starving.” Liz hadn’t intended to be in the car for so long without a meal. She looked down at her stomach that had grown wee in size due to the past two years of eating pretty much only Ramen noodles. And booze. When the two had moved to New York together after college, they hadn’t really expected that they would end up working at a toothpaste factory. Some slight funding from the parents had lasted for a while, but eventually both pairs got fed up and insisted that the girls move home and get real jobs. Neither of the friends really gave a crap though. Liz secretly loved mixing toothpaste every day and boozing it up at night, if only on cheep beer. Laura was happy as well due to her slightly indifferent nature. It had only been five years— there was still a chance to get cool jobs in the city. Now for the first time since the big move they were taking a vacation, which was really only a day trip to Boston. They planned to sit by the harbor and remember the good old days. And maybe go to Cheers, since both had loved the show so much.
“Laura, remember the first time we went to Cheers, and they wouldn’t serve us alcohol?”
“That was because we were only seventeen.”
“Thank God we are over 21 now.”
“I know, remember how much it sucked when we had to get someone else to buy us booze every night?”
“Yeah, remember your 21st birthday?”
“No.”
The cars in front of them began to move a little. The friends hollered with joy as their car was allowed to move forward a couple of inches.
“At his rate we can get to Boston in four days,” Laura complained.
“We both work on Monday,” said Liz.
“Shit, damn you mysterious barrier!” Laura screamed, shaking her fist at the forces ahead of them.
As they eventually were to find out, the unseen obstacle was a Hostess cupcake truck fallen on its side. The driver had tried to avoid smashing a duckling and swerved horribly into a ditch, spilling cupcakes onto the highway and creating a messy and wasteful delay. As the girls inched along the traffic was shoved over so that they were all going foolishly along in one lane. The pace was maddening, but Liz was at least pleased to be getting on in their journey. She began to get extremely excited.
“Laura, do you realize that the last time we were in Boston together, we were but inexperienced young lasses, with so many hopes and dreams for the future. Now look at the things were have done only a few short years later.”
“We work in a toothpaste factory.”
“Yes, well, at least they give us free dental hygiene products.”
“Hey, I really have to take a piss.”
“OK, hop out of the car really quick and go behind that convenient rock,” Liz offered.
“No way, there are a million people that can see me out there.”
“I’ll hold up my sweater, there’s nowhere else to stop for miles. We can’t lose our spot now.”
“You’re right. We’re hardly moving, let’s just get out and go for it, and we can hop right back in when I’m done. I can be quick.”
“OK.” Liz put the car in park and they hopped out and dashed over to the rock, which actually was not so big as it had looked. Laura was concerned about the number of people that were probably now going to see her ass, but due to the circumstances could come to no other alternative plan. This sucked. At Liz’s encouragement she slowly pulled her old jeans down to her ankles while her friend made a sort of shield with her sweater. She began to relieve her poor bladder, concentrating tremendously in order to keep her pants dry. Liz glanced around the scene so as to avoid the sight of Laura’s ass.
“Oh my God!” she said suddenly.
“What, is someone coming?!” Laura asked, ready to spring up.
“I think I can see the accident up there, it’s a giant truck.”
“Oh.”
“I think….yes, I think it’s a Hostess cupcake truck!”
“Cool, keep shielding.” No one heard her words, as Liz was already darting towards the appetizing wreck with her tongue hanging out.
“Bitch!” Laura screamed to her friend as she frantically pulled up her pants. She leapt back into the car without allowing any time to absorb the stares of people all around. Liz felt slightly guilty for abandoning Laura, but all emotions except for joy melted away as she approached the scene. Hundreds of cupcakes were scattered this way and that, the type with a frosting curly cue on top, her favorite kind.
“So good,” thought Liz, “and so free.” She was beginning to regret not having first grabbed a bag or something out of her car to fill with goodies, but then noticed the gaping vehicle and realized she could just yank a whole box. She darted over to the truck.
The policeman that had been watching over the site as he awaited backup glanced up from his lunch, which was cupcakes, and noticed the girl running insanely over to the truck.
“Noooooooo!” he cried in vain as the girl yanked a giant box out of the back. Not realizing the precariousness of the situation, Liz had stupidly removed a box crucial to the stability of all the contents of the truck. A barrage of treats came suddenly pouring forth, and in her last seconds alive she didn’t know whether she was in heaven, or some sort of horrible land of mockery for sugar lovers. The tragedy of the scene was great as Liz’s life quickly ended in this horrible and delicious accident.