Sudden Lunacy

The Car Ride From Hell

The better half of the last day of human civilization was rather boring and extremely uninteresting for most of mankind, even the few who felt they knew the ifs, ands, buts, speculations, and coming of the apocalypse. As the Monday morning lunch rush proceeded with unintelligible yells and upward thrust middle fingers, no one had a clue something more eventful than a twenty cent increase in gas prices was going to happen. They had a whole morning of blissful, uneventful lives before it all cascaded into one pile of dung that smashed into the metaphorical fan of our little, mundane humanity.

Due to this bliss, life was going on as normal, which meant all of the fabulous Funroe, Louisiana attractions were still open, including the Gun's R us shooting range, Skate World and the widely covenanted Funroe Monument Zoo.

Of all the people enjoying the people oblivious to the impending doom, there was one man who knew something absolutely terrible was going to happen because his day was already absolutely awful and those things tend to escalate.

Marcus Oliver had been jerked from his soundless slumber by the ringing of his doorbell, a slap in the face from some girl he couldn't place, and a ridiculously terrible hangover. He was taking a break from his numerous hours wasted on computer RPGs in his boring office job and numerous hours spent entertaining various women after work on his spring filled mattress. He had called in sick but wasn't really sick at all. Most of the time when Marcus called in sick it was to get over a surprisingly strong hangover-similar to the one he had that morning- or to finish up a few loose ends with a matron of the night. Today, at his annoying Mother in law's request, he was stuck accompanying his first and only -thank God- offspring Conroy out on a day of fun.

How freaking fun.

Conroy was actually the result of a condom one of Marcus's randoms had destroyed with a safety pin when she found out he was also renting his bed out to several others. It wasn't like he attempted to hide the fact, but she either didn't want to accept the fact, or was incredibly stupid.

That accounted for the boy's existence, but not his strangeness, which may have been accounted to the numerous times his inexperienced father dropped him on his head. Now outfitted with a star trek jacket, a brightly colored red knit hat, and a bow tied button-up, the poor seven year old was likely to not make it very far in life without being brutally bullied, or at least pushed around a little by many others other than his father.

"Marcus, we r-r-r-really need-d-d ta slow down!" Conroy pleaded as his white knuckles gripped tighter to the edges of his booster seat. Any seven year old would be embarrassed to still be confined to a booster seat, but when he rode with Marcus, that was perfectly okay with Conroy. Actually, he wouldn't have minded roller coaster restraints. Anything to make him feel safe with his Nascar driver wannabe father.

"What are you talking about Conroy, you redneck hick? We are only going fifty miles per hour! We don't need TA slow down. What is a 'ta' anyways?" Marcus growled in annoyance, his temper already beginning to get the better of him as he sulked like a pitiful child, making fun of the boy's thick accent, one of his favorite targets.

"In a school zone! There a-a-are CHILDREN!" Conroy exclaimed in terror as he watched a stray cat fall victim to his father's tires. He covered his eyes with his tiny hands, letting out a sequel as Marcus ran a stop sign. They were escorted by the honks of an entourage of cars, their drives flashing rude gestures and shouting curses in their direction.

Today was going awfully and his mind found all the ways possible to make it Conroy's fault even though he knew this thought process was highly irrational. He had been assaulted by the spunky brunette because the boy had been creating a ruckus by ringing the doorbell and banging on the door like a nut case. Conroy had an irrational fear of the dark and since he had been visiting with his mom the previous week, she had dropped him off as early as she could. So, at five in the morning, Conroy was bellowing at the door like he was being pursued by John Wayne Gacy.