It was a normal day in the store; arranging the magazines, fronting the cigarettes, serving the odd customer who came in to get a quick tide-me-over-until-lunch snack, masturbating numerous times into the slushie machine. That is, normal until a large man entered the store, obviously engulfed in rage. “ I bought a muthafuckin’ REESE peanut buttah cups and they was only TWO bitch ass cups. I WANT MY FUCKIN THIRD CUP BITCH!" He demanded, leering over the counter in a fit of vitriol and ebonics.

I was no bitch. I grabbed the nearest cup at hand: A styrofoam Big Gulp that had been serving as an ashtray for the past week. I threw the grey sludge in his face. "HERE'S your fuckin' cup, muthafucka!" I screamed.

Much to my surprise, the big oaf started crying. "First the drill and the twinkie... now this..." He sobbed. He seemed to be searching for something; trying to affirm his self worth. "You’re so MEAN!"

He fled, and for the first time, i realized he was wearing buttless chaps.

The door swung shut behind his uncannily smooth ass, and I noticed something on the floor where he had been standing. You know those corn- type snacks called Bugles? Well, it was one of them, but this fucker was the size of a boot. And it was bright red. Looked crispy, though. It lay on it's side on the floor, like a crimson Frito-Lay megaphone. I walked over to it and prodded it with a rolled up issue of "Up Front". Some red crumbs fell to the floor. I could smell the fried goodness emitting from the red snack treat enigma.

And then the goddamn thing MOVED!! I jumped back in horror, ruffling a display of Heath bars. It stood up (in as much a way as a bugle could stand) and began what appeared to be a regaining of its composure... then the holiest of horrors.....

The damnable thing s p o k e...

"FIRE IN THE HOLE!"

Now, I’m no fool. I was in the navy. I know when to hit the deck. I jumped over the counter and fell to the floor behind it, covering my head and waiting for the explosion. When a noise finally came, however, it wasn't a big boom.

It was the bugle, snickering.

I peeked my head up over the counter. I saw the red crumbly cone shake slightly as it laughed at me. "HA! HA!" It said, "Sucker! That was great!"

I fear my complexion must heave turned as red as that of the Bugle's at this point.

"Tone Loc was right", it continued, "You ARE a bitch!" It laughed even louder and murmured, "Funky cold medina."

Then the thing began a seemingly rehearsed act of loading its cavity with chewy candies and salty snacks from the store, snickering all the while... and mumbling chuckles under its breath.

Then, the bugle did something very peculiar. It offered me a bite of it's Oh Henry! Bar and asked me to do it a favor.

It wanted me to place it in the toilet bowl in the bathroom, "Nipple Up," it said, referring to its pointy end, I assumed. I reached down to pick it up and it said, "Careful! Don’t tip me! Don't look up underneath!"

As I carefully carried it into the bathroom. It began to perform an eerie countdown:

"T-Minus Ten and Counting”

"10...9....8....7....6"

We were in the bathroom now, and the bugle's countdown took on a hollow sound.

"5... Pausing on 5. Pausing on 5. Abort. Abort. Are you gonna hurry or what?!"

"Oops," I said, "sorry." I lifted the toilet seat and placed the bugle down into the water. The Bugle didn't miss a beat.

"Now get the fuck out of here." It said.


As I dashed out of the bathroom, I heard the ominous countdown continue.

"5.....4.....3.....2......1......0....JESUS CHRIST!"

I heard a tiny, pathetic splash. I crept back to the door.

"Don't.... don't come in." I heard the Bugle whisper shakily.

I obeyed, but my ears betrayed every instinct to put the event behind me. Sounds of ecstasy combined with repeated flushes and wet mushy writhing penetrated my psyche... I wanted to run away ... and I wanted to run back.

Things got eventually got quiet. Soon, I heard an evil laugh come from the bathroom. A voice that sounded deeper and more gravelly spoke. "Now I am ready. No one enters this bathroom without my say, do you understand?"

"Yes." I said.

At the moment, as if by rote, a priest entered the store and asked if he could use the washroom. I looked toward the bathroom.

"Let him come" said the bugle.