Yard Work

Contributor: Matthew Vaughn

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Fred pushed his lawn mower while the afternoon sun beat down on him. He was sweating profusely, he had to constantly wipe at his eyes to keep them from stinging. Maintaining his yard was hard work, but Fred didn’t mind, he loved to look out at the fiery orange fur that covered his lawn.

As he pushed the mower across the length of his yard from one end of his house to the other he couldn’t help but contemplate a break. Part of him thought about how nice it would be to sit on his porch swing and sip on a nice cool glass of liquefied goat meat, it was his favorite. But he wouldn’t do that, he didn’t have time to take a break, his yard needed him.

Having just completed a row and reaching his driveway he did let off the handle of the mower, but not to take a break. Fred pulled his small ruler from his back pocket and knelt down to the fur. He placed his ruler straight up and down to measure the height of the orange fur, it read three and a half inches, just like it was supposed to.

Standing up Fred stretched out his back, it was hurting pretty bad today. Before starting his mower back up he decided to throw a little more fertilizer in it. He walked around the side of his house and chose the body of a nice fat man. Hefting up the dead bodies was probably the hardest part of keeping his lawn looking superb, but Fred thought it was a small price to pay.

Fred carried the fat body to his mower and threw it in. As he grabbed the handle to restart the mower he looked over to his neighbor Marty’s house. Marty was his only competition for best lawn on the street, even though he could never truly beat Fred.

“What the hell?” Fred said. Marty had his mower out and was preparing to start on his lawn. He came around the corner pushing a wheel barrel full of hot dead blonde women. “That son of a bitch, where did he get the cash for that?”

Fred was very unhappy about this, he knew that beautiful blonde women, especially some as well endowed as what Marty had, fertilized a fur lawn like nothing else. There wasn’t much Fred could do about it other than get back to work on his own lawn. He squeezed the handle, cut a chunk of flesh from his arm and dropped it into the mower to bring the machine to life with a roar.

Turning away from Marty helped Fred quite a bit, he smiled at the bright orange of his lawn as he mowed row after row up towards his house. He stopped a time or two to refill his mower with bodies, none quite as nice as Marty’s hot blondes though. He had a couple nicely fat men, but the rest were barely over weight at all. It was almost embarrassing to be seen tossing an average size dead body into his mower.

Reaching his house Fred glanced up to look at Marty’s progress and his neighbor saw him looking. Marty’s mouth grew into a big goofy grin as he threw his scrawny arm into the air and waved.

“I hope you have a stroke out here you dumb bastard.” Fred said to himself as he half heartily waved back. He pushed his mower up onto the front of his house and continued his rows across the front face of his house.

Once he reached the roof he let go of the handle on the mower letting it die. Fred pulled out his little ruler and knelt down onto the roof. He checked the height of his orange fur, three and a half inches, just like it was supposed to be. Fred smiled as he cut a chunk of flesh off his arm and started the mower up again. There was no way Marty was going to have the best lawn on the street, no way.

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Matthew Vaughn fixes machines in an Injection Molding facility. When he is not working with robots plotting world domination his enjoys writing bizarre stories. You can follow his ramblings on twitter @ https://twitter.com/edkemper or at his site http://mcvaughn.wordpress.com/
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