Hitchhiker on a Rainy Night
Hey there, thanks for picking me up. I was starting to wonder whether anyone could see me standing on the side of the highway with my pathetic dirty white thumb pointing up toward the moon. Deep down, most people know hitchhikers are harmless. Those old wives tales about hitchhikers abducting and killing innocent drivers are just excuses for people to be selfish and keep driving down the road, when some unlucky fella like myself needs a lift. But I suppose my long wet hair and old beat up Levi’s jacket don’t make me look like a member of the Mormon Tabernacle choir, huh?
Oh, howdy kids. I almost didn’t see your two kids strapped in those car seats in the back. Looks like your baby girl is conked out and catching some serious ZZZZZZs. I guess these days, it’s all about safety this and safety that. They say kids are the future, and I suppose that’s right, but there’s an awful lot of overkill when it comes to ensuring the safety of youngsters. When I was a kid, I rode my motorcycle all over town without a helmet, and no one cared two hoots. My old man used to plop my butt on a case of Pabst Blue Ribbon in the back seat. That was his idea of a booster seat. Hell, your two kids look like they’re strapped in good and tight with those three buckle harnesses, ready to race a few laps in the Indianapolis 500!
Where are you headed with those two little beauties in the backseat? Cool! I bet the kids will love Las Vegas — there’s a lot for the youngsters to do there these days. I don’t need a ride all the way to Vegas, but if you could take me about 70 miles up the road to Barstow, that would be boss. I don’t think they’ll find me if I can just make it to Barstow.
You see, I’d been a patient at Bay View Mental Hospital for some time. It’s funny, that name. I can tell you firsthand there ain’t no bay and there ain’t no view in that dump. For the first eight months of my “stay” at the luxurious Bay View facility, I had twice a week visits with this sweetie of a gal named Dr. Nicholson. I was pretty sure Dr. Nicholson had the hots for me, but she couldn’t let on as she was trying to keep things professional. I respected her for that, but sometimes you’ve got to be the man and make a move when a lady keeps making bedroom eyes at you. During one of our sessions, Dr. Nicholson told me that we had made a “breakthrough,” as she put it. So I reached across to her, nice and slow, and gently squeezed her thigh. I was real gentlemanly about it, though.
The next thing I know, I show up for my next session two days later, and it was goodbye beautiful Dr. Nicholson and hello hairy old man Dr. Patterson. So I sat there across from Dr. Patterson, staring at his tired old eyes and stale salt-and-pepper beard and thrift store green grandpa sweater. Dr. Patterson droned on about this medication and that medication, trying to formulate some sort of zombie cocktail that could slither down my gullet.
Early this morning, I palmed a knife from the dining hall and escaped through the food storage warehouse. Adios Dr. Patterson and all you bastards at the zombie mill!
I had never hitch hiked before, but as I was standing out there in the rain I couldn’t help but think of one of my favorite horror movies from the 1980s: THE HITCHER, with C. Thomas Howell. Have you ever seen that one? What, never? Oh man, you’re missing out! C. Thomas Howell is this young kid driving down a deserted highway, when he picks up a bad ass hitchhiker played by Rutger Hauer. The hitchhiker is an absolute psycho, and at one point he pulls out a knife and sticks it right up to the eye of the driver, and asks him if he knows how much blood would shoot out of his eye if he were to poke it with the knife. The teenage driver is a great big sissy, and all he can do is stutter and stammer while the hitchhiker confidently and calmly waves that shiny blade next to his eyeball and up and down his cheek.
If the driver had been any kind of a man he would’ve taken that knife and rammed it right into the hitchhiker’s you know where. But instead, he hesitated like a cowardly little schoolboy and probably wet himself, while the hitchhiker remained in full control of the situation. The driver finds himself in a big mess of trouble with the hitchhiker later in the movie, but I won’t spoil the ending for you. I must say that you look a helluva lot tougher than the colossal wimp driver in The Hitcher.
Check out this knife I swiped from the kitchen before I skedaddled out of Bay View. I think we’ve developed a pretty good rapport, and you should trust me by now. Let’s do a little recreation from The Hitcher to help pass the time along this dull stretch of highway. It’ll be just like the movie! In The Hitcher, the hitchhiker slowly lifted the shiny blade right up to the driver’s eye, just like this, then he said something like: “Say kid, how much blood do you think would squirt out of your eye if I were to jam this knife into your eyeball?”
Do you think your kids would wake up before your car swerved, flipped, and then rolled off the highway?
Are you seriously starting to sweat? Even in the dark, I can see drops of sweat trickling down your sideburns, onto your neck. LOL, what a total wuss you turned out to be.
Hey, wait a minute. I was just joking. Let go of my arm, man!!!
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BARSTOW TRIBUNE
UNIDENTIFIED MAN FOUND DEAD ON INTERSTATE 15
February 10, 2019
By Jedidiah Watson
A man was found dead early Wednesday morning, lying along the side of Interstate 15, approximately 20 miles south of Barstow. The man’s throat had been slit from ear to ear, and a kitchen knife had been inserted straight through his right eye, into his brain. The unidentified man appeared to be approximately 25 years of age, with long brown hair. He was wearing a dark blue Levi’s jacket.
Anyone with information regarding the identity of this man is asked to please contact investigator Murdoch Pupkin at (555) 555–7725.
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