A Monster Ate My Sandwich

“Tell me a scary story , Ricky ,” Timmy said.

“I’m not telling you a story. Go to sleep.

“I don’t want to go to sleep. I want a story.”

“I said no. Now shut up and go to sleep.”

“I will if you tell me a story.”

“How many times have I heard that? Now shut the fuck up and go … to … sleep!”

“If I don’t get a story , I’ll wake up dad and tell him you said the f word.”

“You better not you little freak!” Ricky said , “or I’ll pound you.

“Then tell me a story.” Timmy pulled back his covers and made like he was getting out of bed. “Make up your mind. Story , or tell dad you said the f word?”

“Alright you little freak! I’ll tell you a story , then you better go to sleep , or I really will pound you!”

“I will. I promise.”

Ricky sighed wearily and rolled over onto his back. If he didn’t tell the brat a story , he would be up all night. Staring up at the ceiling , he said ,”This is a story about an annoying booger boy who believed in ghosts and monsters. In the middle of the night , the booger went downstairs for a midnight snack , when a monster jumped out of the closet and ate ate his sandwich. Then it ate him. End of story. Now go to sleep.”

“Hey! That’s not a story. I want a real story.”

“It’s the only one you’re getting. Now shut up , or so help me , I’ll pound you.”

“I can’t go to sleep yet.”

“Why not?”

“You have to look under my bed , and make sure a monster’s not hiding there.”

“I’m not looking under your bed!”

“I guess I’ll have to tell dad what you said , then.”

“Alright.” Ricky got down on hands and knees and looked under Timmy’s bed. Even though it was too dark to see anything , he was sure there were no monsters.

“See anything?”

“No , no mons — ” Ricky’s eyes suddenly widened , and he was pulled under the bed.

“Timmy. Help! Something’s got me.”

Whimpering in fright , Timmy pulled the covers over his head , not daring to look , lest the monster get him too. Then , after a moment of silence , Timmy said ,”Ricky? Please don’t be dead.”

When he finally peeked out from under the covers , Ricky jumped up from the side of the bed , laughing.

“That wasn’t funny , Ricky!”

“Yes , it was. You had it coming. Now go to sleep.”

Not until you look in the closet!”

“You said if I looked under your bed , you would shut up. You promised.”

“Oh , daaaa — aaaad!”

“Alright , you little snot! This better be it!”

Ricky approached the closet and placed a hand on the door knob. Timmy said ,”Do you believe in monsters , Ricky?”

“Of course not.”

“Why not?”

“Only babies believe in monsters.”

“But they eat you if you don’t believe in them.”

“Who told you that? One of your baby friends?”

Ricky grasped the door knob … and yanked it open , revealing nothing more than darkness. Timmy thought he might pull another stunt , but Ricky turned and said , “Are you fucking satisfied now?”

Timmy screamed and pulled the covers over his head. A large and unusually hairy hand had shot out of the darkness , grabbing Ricky by the scruff of the neck , pulling him into the closet. He had no time to scream. The door slowly began to shut. From within the darkness there were horrible crunching sounds , and a deep , guttural voice said ,”Soooooo gooooood!”

A small pool of blood appeared from under the door.

Seconds later , the bedroom door flew open. “What’s going on in here?”

“They eat you if you don’t believe in them ,” Timmy said


#closet, #sandwich