beer run

The following post is another one of my stabs at fiction.  The prompt is to write about having something of tremendous value stolen.  I had no idea what to write, so Cort gave me the scenario and I made up the story around it.

Oh, and also? there is a poll on the left side bar if you want to vote for me to move my fiction to Exploded Moments instead of here.

This post went crazy.  And so I dedicate it to my college years.  And to Todd.



“Think, think, think,” he told himself.  “Now what?  Now what do I do?”

Burger rubbed his eyes with the ball of his hands.  He was slumped down on Davis Street a block from the party.

He leaned forward with his elbows on his knees and looked down the street half expecting them to come back.  Not that he had anything left for them to take.  Not only had they taken his empty wallet, but they had jacked the keg he had been rolling down the road from the party store.

It was a dumb idea, but he had lost the bet.

He had to be in charge of the beer.  Even with no car.

Luckily everyone had chipped in.  Barely.

Burger had spent his entire utility payment on that keg, and now he wouldn’t even get his deposit back.

Those jerks even took the tap, so there went that deposit too.


He ran his hand over his goatee and tried to figure out what to do.  He could still smell the cigarette on his hand.

He would love another one, but they had taken those too.

“Focus,” he said out loud.  He immediately looked behind him.  What if they were waiting for him?

He shook his head and tried to focus his eyes.

He didn’t feel very good.

“See…it’s their fault.  We didn’t even NEED that third keg.  This whole thing is THEIR fault.”

He stood up suddenly with new determination.  And immediately regretted it.

Burger decided right then and there that he couldn’t show his face.  He was too mortified.

A band of crazy drunks had run up on him, tackled him, and rolled his keg away.  And taken his smokes.  Which he needed right now.  He couldn’t tell that story to the party–even it if was the truth.

He would look like an idiot.

And he was too messed up to think of a believable lie.

He took one more look down the street toward the party and turned on his heel and started running.

Burger had only gone about a block when he stopped,  panting and sweating and leaned into a yard.

As he wiped the back of his hand over his mouth, the headlights of a slow approaching car snapped on.

Burger squinted into them, his heart pounding.

“Dear God, they’re back,” he thought.

“Hey Burger!  What the hell are you doing?  Where is the beer, ya moron?”

Burger just stared, gasping.  What was going on?

“DUDE!  Can you hear us?  WHERE IS THE BEER?”

“uh…” Burger stumbled. “well…um…”

“Get your stupid ass in the car, dude.”

“but…the beer…those guys…they…” Burger wasn’t sure where his friends had even come from.  Who was driving?

Dude. WE took the beer.  Those guys were us.  We thought you knew.”


“IT WAS US, knucklehead!  The keg?  It’s at Gator’s place.  Back at the party.  IT WAS US.”

“Wait.  Wha…”

“Just get in the car, ya drunk.”

Burger still didn’t know what had happened, but he let his friends pull him into the back seat of the car where he promptly passed out.