I’m pretty sure there is a dead monster in my truck. I can tell from the horrid odor that recently began wafting out when I open the door in the mornings. I think his dead monster carcass is decomposing somewhere inside and producing this horrible stench. I’ve looked around, but I can’t figure out where he died. I know it’s a monster, because only a decomposing monster could produce such a dreadful smell. I don’t know the lifespan of a monster, but I figure I have owned the truck for roughly seven years so I can only venture to guess it’s around seven years. The horrible smell of his decomposing body is starting to become overwhelming. Once I’m inside and the vents are turned on and the air circulates the smell begins to dissipate and it’s not as noticeable. It’s just when the door first opens, especially in the mornings. The vile stench will knock your socks off, burn the hair from your nostrils. It has to be a dead monster, there is no other explanation!
I have never seen this ghastly monster in all the years driving my truck. I suspect he was born when the first drop of sticky juice or soda-pop splashed to the floor. Of course, because I have never seen him I can only speculate a vision of what he probably looked like… a hideous, disfigured mess of rot and filth, grown over seven long years of driving children to school and to their after-school activities. I imagine his body was made out of paper plates, grease stained from holding a multitude of breakfast foods, chocolate donuts and pop-tarts eaten on the drives to school each morning. His arms and legs, of course, long, scrawny, greasy strings of McDonald’s French Fries, connected together with salty ligaments so they moved and clicked like a skeleton’s bones. I’ll bet his creepy, deformed monster face was an Eggo waffle, half-soaked in maple syrup, dripping from those little waffle-iron squares, and most-likely frightfully pock-marked with chocolate chips. There was probably a big bite or two out of one side, maybe one of his grisly eyes was even missing. His other eye, the one that was still there… and his nose… probably Cheerios, stale and crusty. His mouth a Pixy-Stick wrapper, toothless and coated in leftover sugar. His clothes he must have fashioned out of discarded napkins and granola bar wrappers… maybe even a few snotty filled tissues. His shoes, of course were leftover all-white-meat chicken Mcnuggets, dreadfully stained with ketchup. Because his legs were so long and thin and feeble, he probably walked with a cane, craftily built from popsicle and lollipop sticks, assembled together with the sticky, gooey, sugar-glue that was leftover on the ends of each stick. He was probably always damp and muddy, soaked from the dirty water dripping off of boots and shoes… and moldy from head to foot, green and black fuzzy mold, creeping up and down his heinous, stenchy, paper-plate-french-fry body.
Disgusting, hideous, horrible… and he was living in my truck!
But now I believe he has finally passed, checked-out, kicked the bucket. His monster spirit has gone to that better place where dead monster spirits go. But his dead, smelly, decomposing body still inhabits my vehicle. I know… I know it’s there… somewhere… because of that abhorrent smell that permeates the truck cabin when I get in. Maybe he’s under the front seats, or in the storage area underneath the bench seat in the back. Or maybe, he is just spread amongst the trash and filth that covers the floor mats where the kids sit. I just don’t know, but I need to figure it out so I can get rid of the smell… and maybe, just maybe, this would be a good time to get the truck professionally cleaned!
The Brown Road Chronicles 