The Worm

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Humor  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: October 08, 2019

A A A | A A A

Submitted: October 08, 2019



The Worm

“Keep pumping it on.”

“Are you sure? It’s, like, seeping through the bag.”

“I’ll tell you when I want you to stop, okay?”

I continued to pump the liquid gold onto the popcorn as the faux butter visibly dripped out the bottom of the brown bag and onto my palm. I handed the bag over the counter, and the customer with a slimy bald head smiled, showing off their rotting teeth. I almost gagged. Davey and I shared a laugh about it back in the scullery. Then my manager came in and told us we had to go clean up the theaters. I put on some rubber gloves; it was peak germ season, and I didn’t want to get the flu from picking up a dirty napkin in the cup holder of a theater seat. I headed to the hallway where all the theaters are located. My good friend Davey grabbed me a broom and butler. What a guy! He was dumb, but he was my friend, too. We were matching, of course, since all floor staff at the theater were required to wear black from head to toe. His hair was always greased up and slicked to the side. He looked like he poured the fake butter on his head before work everyday. I wouldn't put it past him, honestly. My hair was buzzed because it made me look like a badass prison guy, especially since it accentuated the big scar on my forehead from my big skateboard accident. We walked down the hallway towards theater number five.

“Xavier, hear me out, okay? I got a good idea,” exclaimed Davey.

“If you have to preface it with ‘hear me out’ then I know it’s gonna suck,” I replied.

“No, no, no listen. It’s a broom like this one, but except for just a wooden handle, on the other end is a plunger. ‘Cause you know how Harry is always telling us to clean up the bathroom and unclog the toilets? This combines two useful items into one.”

“Wow, that’s an awesome idea, bro,” I lied.

“You really like it?”

“No, dude that’s a horrible idea.”

At this point we had made it to theater five, and Davey looked at me defeated. “You have no imagination. That’s your problem.”

We waited outside the theater while customers filed out. Something seemed off, though. I had always had a good sense for when something was off. Ever since I was a kid and I entered into a weird place or situation, I would be like “something’s off” and it usually was. One time when I was six years old, my grandfather took me to the mall to get a new shirt, and I immediately got a weird feeling in my stomach. I told gramps I didn’t feel good, and he took me home. Later that night we turned on the news, and what do you know? The mall was swallowed up by one of those sinkholes. So when an old lady came up to me and told me her purse was missing, my suspicions were realized.

“Okay, once everyone exits the theater I will happily assist you in finding your purse, ma’am,” I told the old lady. I’m so polite. I pretty much have the best customer service skills out of anyone who works at this theater. My general manager once told me that everyone should look to me as an example for how to talk to customers and just how to be a good person in general. Suddenly, a few more old ladies claimed their purses had been stolen. This was not good and when I looked under the seats, using a long flashlight, all I could find were old popcorn bits and sticky substances. How could someone have crawled under the seats and stolen a bunch of purses, leaving unscathed and unnoticed? I didn’t know the answer to this, so I did what any good employee would do in this situation. I called the managers. It was their jobs to deal with this sort of thing. I had only worked here for a few months, so dealing with purse theft was not in my job description. The managers filed into the theater, and all the old ladies whose purses had been stolen, nervously waited in the back of the theater. The managers decided to call the police, because even though they were the managers and had some authority, they were not fit to deal with purse theft either. We waited for the cops.

When the cops arrived, they asked us if we noticed anything suspicious, or any suspicious customers. Davey looked at me, as if he was trying to get me to tell the cops something. Then I remembered; I did have a super suspicious customer, the one that made me pump an obscene amount of fake butter onto their large popcorn. So I raised my voice to the police.

“Hey, so, I had a really weird, sketchy customer earlier,” I said, and all the managers and cops looked at me. The spotlight was on me. It was time for me to do my civic duty and assist the police in the investigation of the purse theft.

“Yeah, this weird, uh, guy? I think? He was like really slimy and bald. He kinda looked like a worm in human form. He asked me to pump, like, so much fucking butter on his popcorn. The butter was literally seeping through the bag. It was truly disgusting. Anyways, maybe check the cameras for that guy.”

“Did you say he looked like a worm in human form?” asked the police detective woman. She wore tight jeans and a button up white shirt, with her badge hanging around her neck. I always wondered if that’s how all detectives wore their badges or if it was a stylistic choice. I didn’t want to ask her that under the circumstances, however.

All the cops began to whisper amongst themselves. My worm comment must have triggered something, because they immediately demanded to see the cameras. I told them it happened around seven. They looked through the recording in the manager's office, and when they zoomed in on that customer, their collective faces turned pale, like they had just seen a ghost.

“Fuck, it’s The Worm,” said the detective.

“The Worm?” asked Davey. I don’t know why he was also assisting the police and the managers, but he was here.

“What does that mean?” I asked.

“The Worm. They are a worm in human form. They go around to different businesses and squirm underneath people’s chairs and whatnot, snatching personal items from everyone. They are a menace. No one knows where they came from, or who they are.”

“We must stop them!” I exclaimed, jumping on top of my manager’s desk.

The cops agreed with me, and they gave me a gun and a badge. I was now officially deputized, and we followed a trail of slime that started at the back of the cinema. I could sense this was where we should go. I sprinted with the cops next to me as the slime continued to lead us to the culprit. This was the moment in my life that everything else led up to. This was the moment I had been waiting for. I was in college, and had gotten the movie theater gig as a way to make some extra money, but I knew it would lead to something bigger. And this was it. We turned a corner and the slime led to a house. This was The Worm’s house. I kicked the door down and stormed in. I looked behind me, but the cops were so scared that they ran away. It was all up to me now. I was greeted with some Home Alone-esque shit. I’m not lying or exaggerating when I say that I felt like I was young Kevin McCallister because it was literally a reenactment of the whole second act of the film. I fell on some tacks and got covered in grease and shit. I hadn’t seen that movie in a while, but I think that’s what happens in it. Anyways, The Worm had set up these traps because it knew I was a worthy opponent, but none of it phased me in the slightest. Eventually, I got up to The Worm’s bedroom, if you can call it that. It was covered in dirt and slime, as well as a bunch of purses and various items of worth. The Worm was in the corner, and I shit you not it opened its mouth, now in full worm form, and shot acid towards me. I dodged it, of course, and reached for my glock. I shot at it several times, until The Worm had shriveled up into just a little earthworm. I then picked it up and brought it outside. I walked and walked, covered in slimy acid, but I was happy. It didn’t matter to me anymore. I walked to the woods where I got on my knees and let the little earthworm go. It dug itself into the ground and was now one with the earth and the sun and the stars and the moon. I always felt like this was the moment in my life where I did something good. I did something that was noble and heroic, yet gentle and connected me to nature.

After letting the little guy free, I headed back to the cinema. Of course I was greeted with a sick ass party. Davey was there, the cops, my managers, other coworkers. Even the old ladies. Fuck I had forgot their purses. But that wasn’t my job, that was the cop’s job. I wasn’t even mad they left me alone to deal with The Worm myself. I knew I could handle it. Anyways, we popped champagne and ate some delicacies. It was one of the best parties I have ever been to, and it was all for me. Davey and I got so fucked up that by the end of the night we just sat in a theater and watched all of The Phantom Menace.

“Xavier, you’re the man, bro. How did you do it? What’s your secret?” Davey asked me as we watched Qui-Gon Jinn fuck up some droidekas on the very large, HD 4K screen.

“No secret, Davey. I did what I was supposed to do at the time I was needed most. What else could anyone ask for?” I gracefully replied.

Davey looked satisfied with that answer, and he put his arm around me in a friendly way. We watched the rest of the film. Afterwards, Davey wanted to watch Attack of the Clones, but my disk was scratched. So we just skipped right to Revenge of the Sith. It was sick, especially the end lava fight scene between friends turned mortal enemies. That was like me and The Worm, except we started off mortal enemies and then became friends when I set him free.

© Copyright 2019 Dylan Skudlarek. All rights reserved.

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