It wouldn’t be hard to get me to be a Jogger, Thomas thought. But he resisted the urge to say anything.
Alby led Thomas to the final corner of the Sausage Fest, where the frat house stood.
“Last but not least, we’ve got the frat house,” said Alby. “Remember, only members get to go upstairs.”
“How do you become a member?” asked Thomas.
“By living in the Sausage Fest. So congrats, you’re a member.”
Alby walked over to the opening in the wall nearest the frat house and pointed out toward the corridor.
“Out there, that’s the Maze,” said Alby. “Now remember, rule number one around here is—”
“I know,” said Thomas. “Only Joggers are allowed in the Maze.”
“Actually, that’s rule number two. Rule number one is: if you see a chick, sound the alarm.”
“But I thought there were no girls here,” Thomas said.
“That’s why we want you to sound the alarm, klunkface,” said Alby.
Thomas couldn’t hold it in any longer. “So how does one become a Jogger?” he asked.
Alby chuckled. “Ain’t gonna happen, shank.”
“But why?” Thomas said.
“’Cause you ain’t Asian,” said Alby.
Thomas wanted to ask what difference that made, but before he could say anything a piercing ringing filled the air, and Alby’s eyes went wide.
“No way,” said Alby. “No klunkin’ way.”
“What is it?” said Thomas.
“It’s the alarm,” said Alby. “There’s a girl here!”
CHAPTER 6
Alby and Thomas saw that a crowd of dudes had gathered by the Box, so they ran over. When they got there, Thomas initially couldn’t see what the guys were looking at, but he could see they were all fixing their hair and spraying breath spray into their mouths.
Thomas wedged himself into the crowd. When he got to the front, Thomas was amazed to see a super hot girl lying motionless on the ground just outside the Box. The girl looked around 17, but Thomas was hoping she was actually 18 so she’d be legal. Wait, how did I remember “age of consent laws?” thought Thomas. So weird.
“Is she dead?” said a dude.
“Maybe if we took her clothes off it would help us find out,” said another dude, and the rest of the dudes nodded their approval.
“Shut your klunkholes!” said Alby. He walked up to Newt, who’d been standing near the girl when Alby and Thomas arrived. “What’s the deal?” Alby asked.
“She just came up in the Box,” said Newt. “”Exactly like this. Hasn’t moved since we first saw her.”
Suddenly the girl sat up and her eyes popped wide open, and everyone jumped back and gasped. The girl then said a single sentence:
“Everything is going to change.”
“Right,” said one of the dudes. “’cause we’re gonna have sex.”
A bunch of dudes laughed. The girl’s eyes closed again and she fell back down. But as she fell her fist shot into the air, and the fist slowly opened to reveal a crumpled piece of paper.
Newt ran over and took the paper and opened it. When he read it, he dropped to his knees.
Thomas rushed over and looked over Newt’s shoulder. Scrawled on the paper were three sentences:
I’m the last one.
Ever.
And don’t even think of taking off my clothes while I’m in a coma.
CHAPTER 7
Newt read the note out loud to the other Sausage Festers, and there was complete silence. Thomas couldn’t tell if this was because people were shocked by what had just happened, or simply depressed because they weren’t gonna get to see the girl without her clothes on.
“Med-jacks!” shouted Alby. Two uniformed boys ran over carrying a stretcher.
Thomas nudged Chuck, who was standing nearby. “Are the Med-jacks like your doctors?” Thomas asked.
Chuck nodded.
“How were those guys chosen to be the Med-jacks?” Thomas asked.
“They’re the only ones who got above a C in biology,” said Chuck.
One of the Med-jacks knelt down and listened to the girl’s heart with a stethoscope.
“She seems fine,” said the Med-jack. “I mean, fine to me, someone with no actual medical training.”
“Sounds good,” said Newt. “Take her to the frat house.”
The Med-jacks lifted the girl up, obviously trying to get their hands as close as they could to her butt without being so close they’d be accused of actually touching it. They carried her to the stretcher, reluctantly put her down, and took her away.
“Something seriously klunky is going on,” said Alby. “We need to call a Cock Convention.”
“What’s a Cock Convention?” Thomas whispered to Chuck.
“It’s a meeting of all the Keepers,” said Chuck. “The Keepers are the ones like Alby and Newt who run the Sausage Fest. They only meet when something big happens.”
“But why do they call it a ‘Cock Convention?’” Thomas asked.
“Because the name ‘Sausage Fest’ was taken,” said Chuck.
Thomas’s stomach grumbled. With all that had been going on since he’d arrived, he’d forgotten to eat a proper meal.
“Who do I need to speak to get some food at this place?” Thomas said.
“That would be Spatula,” said Chuck. “Follow me.”
Chuck led Thomas to the side of the frat house, where there was a window with a counter attached to the kitchen.
“What flavor do you like?” said Chuck.
“Excuse me?” said Thomas.
“Of pizza,” said Chuck.
That’s right, remembered Thomas, they only eat pizza.
“Pepperoni,” said Thomas.
Chuck walked up to the window. “Hey Spatula, can we get a large pepperoni?” he shouted.
Thomas waited for someone to take the order and start cooking, but nothing happened, except for a dude walking by the window while talking on the phone.
“Um, is Spatula even here?” said Thomas.
“You just saw him, klunkron,” said Chuck.
“The guy on the phone?” said Thomas. “Is he gonna keep talking or is he gonna make the pizza? I’m starving!”
“He was ordering it, klunk-for-brains.”
Ordering it?
A couple minutes later Thomas heard the metallic whirring of the Box. A couple dudes opened the Box’s large metal doors, and a guy in a pizza delivery shirt stepped out, holding a pizza.
“Who the heck is that?” said Thomas.
“It’s Fernando,” said Chuck.
The delivery guy walked over to Chuck and handed him the pizza.
“Gracias, Fernando,” said Chuck, handing him some cash. “Keep the change.”
“Muchas gracias!” said the delivery guy. He walked back to the Box, got inside, and descended out of view.
“But how...?” said Thomas.
Chuck shot him a look.
“Got it,” said Thomas. “No more questions.”
CHAPTER 8
“Omigod, I love pizza,” said Thomas, as he finished off the final slice.
“See if you still feel that way after eating it for 500 straight meals,” said Chuck.
Thomas picked up the empty box and looked around for a garbage can. “Where do I throw this?” he said.
“Duh,” said Chuck. “Box Forest.”
Thomas walked over to the forest, handed his box to one the workers, and then decided to have a look around. The forest was actually kind of neat. With all the tall towers of boxes, it was dark and quiet—a perfect spot to bring a chick. Unfortunately, he was living in a place where there weren’t any.
A box fell from one of the towers behind him. Thomas turned and looked, but it was too dark to see much of anything.
Then Thomas noticed a tower closer to him shaking. Then another.
“Who’s there?” Thomas said.
Suddenly something burst out from
behind a tower and leaped on top of Thomas, shrieking loudly. Thomas flailed with his arms and legs and finally managed to kick the thing off him.
Thomas looked at the thing and saw it was another dude from the Sausage Fest, but there was something wrong with him. His eyes were bloodshot and his pupils were dilated, and he was frothing at the mouth. The guy shrieked again, and Thomas realized it was the same shriek he’d heard from the frat house when he first arrived.
This was the guy who’d hooked up with a Heaver.
“Back off, Ben!” came a voice from behind Thomas. He turned and was stunned to see Alby pointing a crossbow at the attacker.
“If you kill me, you’ll be killing the wrong guy!” hissed Ben. “He’s bad. Bad bad bad bad!”
“What the klunk are you talking about?” said Alby.
“He’ll hook up with your girlfriend!” said Ben. “He needs to be stopped!”
Hook up with your girlfriend? thought Thomas. There weren’t even any girls here. Why would he say that?
Ben growled at Thomas and eyed him menacingly.
“Ben, I’m only gonna say this one more time,” said Alby. “Back off.”
Ben laughed maniacally. “I’m doing this for our own good,” he said, and then leaped at Thomas. Ben was nearly at Thomas’s throat when an arrow pierced Ben’s neck with a sickening thud, and Ben fell to the ground.
Thomas looked at the body in shock. He’d only been in the Sausage Fest 24 hours and already someone had tried to kill him. Although getting killed wouldn’t be the worst thing, Thomas thought. It sure couldn’t be any worse than living in a place entirely full of dudes.
CHAPTER 9
“Wake up, sleepyklunk!”
Newt’s voice awoke Thomas just before sunrise. Thomas didn’t want to get up, but he had to. Today was his first day of work.
Every dude in the Sausage Fest had some job or other. For the next week Thomas was supposed to work in a different job every day, and at the end of the week he’d be assigned a permanent job by the Keepers.
“Ready to start earnin’ your pizza?” said Newt.
“I guess I don’t have a choice,” Thomas said.
“Right that,” said Newt. “Today you’ll start with the klunkers.”
Not the klunkers, thought Thomas.
Newt and Thomas walked over to Lake Klunk, where workers had already begun carting wheelbarrows of klunk to the shore. Newt led Thomas over to a dude with a clipboard who was wearing a shirt that said “I ♥ KLUNK.”
“Thomas, meet Buttpan, Keeper of the klunkers,” said Newt.
“Welcome to Lake Klunk,” said Buttpan. “Grab a shovel.”
The next four hours were one giant klunkfest. Shoveling klunk. Wheeling klunk around. Dumping klunk. And saying “klunk” over and over again because this was your job.
Finally it was time for Thomas’s lunch break. Thomas was starving from all the hard work he’d just done, but as he ate his pizza he started thinking about how the pizza would eventually turn to klunk, and then that klunk would need to be shoveled and wheeled around and dumped, and he lost his appetite.
As Thomas was walking back to Lake Klunk after lunch, he was surprised to see a Jogger run in from the Maze and collapse in front of him, exhausted. The day was barely half over and the Joggers weren’t due back for hours.
“Hey, you okay?” said Thomas.
“I’m fine, shank,” said the Jogger. “Just need to catch my breath.”
“Why are you back so early?” said Thomas.
“Saw something I gotta report to the other Keepers.”
“The other Keepers?” said Thomas. “Are you the Keeper of the Joggers?”
“Right that,” said the Jogger. “Name’s Minho.”
“So...is there really no chance of me being a Jogger if I’m not Asian?” said Thomas.
“Nope,” said Minho.
“But why?” said Thomas.
“’Cause joggers need to be smart,” said Minho, tapping his forehead.
“Ohhhh, now I get it,” said Thomas, “Asians get to be the joggers because they’re really smart.”
Minho shook his head and laughed. “Dude, we’re no smarter than anyone else here.”
“But then why are only Asians the Joggers?” said Thomas.
“Because idiot white frat guys think Asians are really smart,” said Minho.
“But doesn’t that stereotype annoy you?” said Thomas. “Why not just tell everybody it’s false?”
“You think I wanna be shoveling klunk all day?” said Minho.
Nope, you certainly don’t, thought Thomas.
Alby came running up and looked at Minho with surprise. “What are you doing back?” said Alby.
“Saw something out there,” said Minho.
“Other Joggers’ junk?” said Alby.
“Of course,” said Minho. “But also something new: a dead Heaver.”
CHAPTER 10
Alby looked stunned. “A dead Heaver?” he said. “Why didn’t you bring it back?”
“Because I didn’t have a forklift with me,” said Minho.
“Tell you what,” said Alby, “first thing tomorrow I’ll go out there with you and we’ll carry it back. Maybe if we examine it we can figure out how to shut off those things.”
“I’ll go too!” said Thomas. “Don’t worry about me not being Asian, because the Asian kids are actually as stupid as the rest of you.”
“You ain’t going anywhere!” said Alby. “Ever since you showed up things have been going to klunk. First a hot girl arrives but she’s in a coma so nobody can hook up with her, then Ben attacks you and I gotta kill him, then someone writes ‘THIS PLACE SUX’ in klunk on the side of the frat house, and now we find a dead heaver!”
Shoot, I really should’ve written out the word “SUCKS”, thought Thomas. Oh well, maybe next time.
The following day Thomas was assigned to work in Box Forest, under the supervision of the forest’s Keeper, Boxhead.
“So Boxhead,” said Thomas while they were stacking boxes, “how many Keepers are there total?”
“Let’s see,” said Boxhead. “You got Newt and Alby, and then the heads of all the different jobs: the klunkers, the box stackers, the Med-jacks, the standups—”
“Standups?” said Thomas.
“Sure, they keep things light around here,” Boxhead said. “You’ve never seen their shows? They’ve got a stage behind the frat house.”
During his lunch break Thomas walked over to the stage, where one of the standups was in the middle of a routine.
“What’s the deal with the walls being 200 feet high?” said the standup. “Was 190 feet not high enough? And hey, how ‘bout those walls having to move to close the Sausage Fest? Hel-looo, ever heard of a door?” The audience laughed. “I mean, seriously,” said the standup, “they can build 200-foot-high walls and they can’t build a door?” The audience laughed again.
Thomas wanted to stay longer, but he had to grab some food. He’d already gotten sick of pizza, so he just took a bunch of those little plastic cheese containers they include when delivering pizza and headed back to work.
Thomas had hoped that he might enjoy working in Box Forest, but it turned out that stacking cardboard boxes all day wasn’t very much fun. Why can’t I be a Jogger? he thought. He didn’t know where the urge came from, but it was stronger than ever...just as strong as his urge to hang out with the girl who’d arrived yesterday. But he knew where that urge came from: his wiener.
One thing Thomas did enjoy about working at Box Forest was that he got to see all the other Sausage Festers when they brought over their empty boxes. About an hour after lunch, Newt came over with a box, and Thomas saw that he was looking distressed.
“I told you not to order the bread sticks,” said Thomas. “But noooooo, you wouldn’t listen.”
“It’s not that,” said Newt, “it’s Alby and Minho. They should’ve been back hours ago!”
As the sun was setting that nigh
t, Thomas, Newt, and Chuck stood at the west opening, anxiously looking into the Maze for any sign of Alby and Minho.
“So if Minho doesn’t come back, can I apply for the open Jogger position?” said Thomas.
“The only thing open is gonna be your klunkhole if you don’t shut the shank up!” said Newt.
The loud rumbling of the walls closing began, and Thomas, Newt, and Chuck all looked at each other with dread.
But then a flicker of movement in the Maze caught Thomas’s eyes.
It was Minho, dragging something toward the opening. But what he was dragging was heavy, and Minho couldn’t move fast.
Then Thomas realized that Minho was dragging Alby.
“The Heaver got to second base with him!” Minho shouted.
The opening in the walls kept shrinking as the walls continued to close. Minho was going as fast as he could, but Thomas saw he wasn’t going to make it.
Thomas stepped toward the opening.
“Thomas, no!” said Chuck.
“Do not do it, Tommy, and that’s an order!” said Newt.
“I’m not actually going out there, duh,” said Thomas. He started waving his arm in between the closing doors, like he remembered doing with an elevator in college to keep it from closing. He looked at Newt and Chuck and laughed. “You guys are gonna feel like idiots when you find out this works.”
“I’m not gonna make it!” shouted Minho, still struggling toward the opening.
“Take your time,” said Thomas, stepping out into the Maze while keeping his arm in between the closing doors. “I’m holding it for you.”
Suddenly Thomas’s arm felt like it was caught in a vise. He turned and saw that the walls were closing on it, and he barely managed to pry his arm out before the walls slammed shut.
Minho stood looking at Thomas in total shock.
“You think maybe they left a spare key under the doormat?” said Thomas.
CHAPTER 11
The Maze Bummer Page 2
