Juggalo's Last Strand

1 0 0
                                    

Hair was everywhere. I looked to the floor in horror at all my hair that had been cut off. "I should have never made that bet," I muttered underneath my breath. 

"What bet?" said the stylist.

"Don't worry about it."

The stylist raised her eyebrows and shook her head "alrighty then." I didn't feel like explaining the events from these past two days. But I'll tell you, dear reader of my diary. 

It all started on a Friday. A fateful Friday in which I made a bet that I could become the greatest juggalo to ever live. See, me and my friend Gregory were pretty adequate juggalos, but we decided to challenge each other to improve. Apparently, I had had too many drinks and misunderstood what a juggalo was even though I was one, apparently. But, I bet Greg that I could be the greatest juggalo, and so I jumped head first into figuring out what the hell I was going to do. First I bought a van with no windows except for the windshield of course. Then I drove around in my jankity van, trying to find a willing sacrifice. Finally after a few hours of scoping out the place, I found a chick and brought her in the back of my van and threw her down on my brand new Indian carpet. I then explained to her about the juggalo lifestyle that I knew nothing about, and she agreed that she would be sacrificed to the Insane Clown Posse gods. She screamed in ecstasy as I poked her through her chest with a steak knife. As her blood and soul began making the travel to ICP Heaven, I called up Gregward to let him know I was going to win the bet. I told him what happened with that sweet ass chick and he just stuttered and flubbered in disbelief at my accomplishment.

"Dude, it's just about the clown makeup! What did you do?!"

I blinked and looked at my phone confused. Then I looked at the chick, who clearly died happy, and realized I was screwed. "I missed. The objective. I missed it."

And so, after dumping the van and bloody chick off into the river that night, I woke up the next day, sulked to the hair stylist, and chopped my hair off, as per our bet agreement. EN D

Middle of the Day StorisWhere stories live. Discover now