FIX IT BROKEN Issue #1

grader waiting in line a couple dozen people behind Dad. The machine is going crazy. We can hear the screaming. Beams of light making love on our faces, it feels like an awakening as the orange moon watches unaware.

Time expires; teenagers waddle away from the mechanism. A couple punks puke in the grass behind the majestic open-mouthed contraption. It swallows Dad. The chick sees me, asks, “Ya wanna ride it with me?”

“I’m too young.”

Don’t want to admit I’m too short. She’s at least a foot taller, boobs pondering their existence.

“My cousin works here.”

She points to the gothic monster taking tickets, standing at the entrance to the gates of heaven. I look at the vomit and bubble gum on my shoes. There’s a chunk of caramel popcorn in her hair. She’s making love to her box of Cracker Jacks.

“I would, but my dad’s on this thing, he can’t see me.”

Butterflies and dragonflies have sex in my stomach as she giggles.

“Put this on.”

It’s a ghost mask. I Almost wet my pants. Dreaming of reaching second base, she places it over my face and hands her tickets to the lunatic of her uncle’s loins.

“Have fun Casper.”