Short Tales

The Secret To Eternal Good Luck

*

You know Family Guy?  Of course you do, what the fuck am I even saying. Anyway, they never seem to get in trouble for too long, right? I mean, the only times when bad shit happened are in the later seasons when they stopped (excessively) treating Meg like shit (still did it). Yeah, this is about her. Have you ever wondered why most of those shows never have any consequences (did I spell that right?) for the main characters? Maybe it's because the networks need their popular characters to stay in the show--that's what you'd think, right? Well, me and my friends had a theory. What if it was the Megs that kept the main characters safe? What if them being lightning rods let the characters get away with all their shit? 

We were high out of our minds when we thought this up, but bear with me.

The next day, we looked for a "test subject" to try this out on. You should know the guy, that one "guy"; Kieth McFarlane--ironic, right. Can't say his name didn't influence us, but it wasn't everything. This guy's the kinda dude you'd see at school for a week and hate instantly; at least until you realize that he's rich as fuck and has a party every other week. He always hung around us so it wasn't really hard to start "Megging" him, (name's trash, I know) especially since it wasn't too far off from how we were with him from the start. 

Now that I think back, I kinda regret doing him like that, especially around the end of the experiment. Don't regret the results though, that was totally worth it. 

It was mostly random douchebaggery that we did to him in the first month. We'd decided to not go for anything too excessive, just a bit of vandalism on our part, dine and dash, then a dumb prank on Kieth to balance it out. The thing is, none of us expected it to work. We thought we'd get caught eventually, get lectured or something then quit.

Well, by the end of the fifth month, it was safe to say that we believed in the process. One of the guys (Ciarán)--there were five of us--told his girl (Melanie) about it. Melanie, to all our surprise, was a really greedy bitch and Ciarán was basically Melanie on steroids. He was the one that ramped it up to robbery, which ramped up the amount of fuck up that Kieth would get on the daily. It went from a hole in the bottom of his paper cup to putting razor blades in his bag. Seems like a drastic step up, right? Like, you don't really see Meg's life on the line that much. That's because the people doing the Megging matter. If it's your family that you're doing it to then you don't have to be as harsh because the thoughts from the person getting Megged are kinda like:

"I can't believe my family is doing this to me," which is more potent

rather than

"This random shit is happening to me and I think it's those guys I hang with to look cool."

 You can see how one is better, right? Granted, we didn't try this on our own families--we're not fucking demented--but you can try it if you want (whoever's reading this). We found out when we tried to coast by on just trashing his room at one of his parties, then going out to rob our first convenience store. After the owner came out with a 12 gauge, we decided we needed to amp it up. 

Somewhere along the line, someone (don't know who, but probably Ciarán or Melanie) suggested we started selling weed. I did actually want to do this cause I thought: "What's the harm?" It'd be pretty easy since the cops in our town were fucking incompetent (sorry, Mr Oakes) and it'd be easy to get a supplier if we just gave Kieth a bit more shit.

This--of course--is where it all went to shit. 

Literally days after we raked in the first truckload of cash (we hit up a strip club literally the same night) the cops had a press conference. "A crackdown on all the illegal shit that went down in town." Not the exact words, but I wasn't really "all there" when it came on. No, I wasn't high. I was fucking. Charlie was the one who called me downstairs to catch it. 

Anyway, we all realized that we needed to kick it up a notch with Kieth. The worst thing we'd done so far was break up him and his girl but that was kind of a favour anyways. She was just leeching off him anyways. He didn't know that, so it worked anyway (thank God). We were bouncing ideas around when my girl came downstairs (she knew by now, it had been a fucking year of robbing stores) and she--brilliant fucking bitch she is (love ya b)--said: "Let's have a guy do him." The whole room went silent. How did we not think of that? Hindsight being 20/20, it was probably the worst thing we could've thought to do, seeing as it all went sideways, but it seemed a good idea at the time. 

Anyway, we picked one of his parties to Meg him on. He'd taken to the habit of getting absolutely shitfaced nowadays, so it wasn't really hard to slip him something and get him upstairs. Melanie stayed to get some video--she got the short straw, so to speak--and called us back upstairs when the guy had finished. There Kieth was, cum on his back, legs spread, cheeks clapped. We were on the fucking floor, dying of laughter. God that was too funny. We sent it around pretty much instantly and went back into the party. That was the last time anyone saw Kieth, alive at least.

It didn't really hit, still doesn't to this second, and looking back I should've questioned that. Didn't really like the guy but him hanging himself should have made me--should make me feel something. What really fucked me up was when our supplier cut us off. The guy just, out of the blue said that he didn't know what he was thinking when he started selling to us. I went ballistic, turning over tables, making holes in walls. I swear, if Ayana (my b) wasn't there I would've gone over to the dealer's place and fucked him up. I do have enough money though, so it wasn't a complete waste. Still though, I didn't think our luck would go away so fast. Next dude (or girl) we Meg, we're gonna have to make sure that they don't up and fucking die.

*

"God, this kid is fucking sick. Hey, Oakes, get up here!"

Blue lights lit up the neighbourhood as they shoved the guy into the cruiser. 

"You find any, Agent Hinds?" 

The police chief--Mr Oakley--strode into the room, years of red meat and beer weighing on his gut. He looked at the book Hinds brandished at him.

"Even better. Take a look at this." 

He handed the book to Oakes.

"This fuck wrote out every little thing that he did, down to the exact way he fucked up that Kieth kid that committed." 

Oakes read in silence, his brow furrowing as he skimmed further through the book. His face paled, his forehead shone, the exact way you'd expect a small town cop to react to the literal worst thing that had ever happened in his little slice of America. 

"Oh...O-oh God..." He shut the book and stared through the cover for a good bit. Agent Hinds let him have the moment, knowing that he'd probably have a whole lot more to go through with the press and the trial.

"We'll be taking them in, Oakes. You won't have to deal with the press for too long that way."

It took him a second for him to register that Hinds had actually said something, but he was completely off topic when he answered. He hadn't taken his eyes off of the book either.

"The worst part of this...thing," he gripped the book hard, gritting his teeth. "Is the title. 'The Secret To Eternal Good Luck.'" 

Agent Hinds chuckled in his mind. Kid's not wrong. Well, at least if that kid didn't die.

=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=

A/N: If someone who knows anything about police investigation could write an accompanying story about the investigation side of this, that'd be really cool. Was this good? It's my first time trying the journal style of writing. Also, tell me if the italics are irritating. I didn't want to give away that its a journal thing, but I didn't know how I would make it different from a normal story without it. I would've used bold but I thought it was a bit over-the-top.