Uncle Gary's Campfire Stories: Bayou Zombie Werewolves

by Visada, J. L. M.

  “Great…I should have never taken their offer for us all to camp together. I should have known better.” Marvin kept muttering about the man and his son as he trudged back towards the cabins.

  “DON’T FORGET TO WIPE!” Gary yelled to his man-child.

  “OKAY DADDY!” John screamed back, his voice already being muffled by the thick forest.

  “Well…” Gary slid over to get a little closer to Ashley, “I guess we should get back to the story right kids?”

  “Yes!” They all said enthusiastically. After all the time they’d spent on wholesome family entertainment during their stay at camp, every one of them wanted to hear something that wasn’t g-rated.

  “What happens if Marvin gets back?” Ashley asked as she felt Gary’s hand brush against her bottom on its way to wrapping around her.

  “Oh that’s not gonna happen. I think we should all be surprised if we see Marvin again at all tonight.” Gary grinned as he draped his arm around the pretty young counselor.

  “What makes you say that?” She asked trying to ignore the butterflies fluttering in her stomach. She genuinely liked the man. She genuinely liked most men that were older than her. Her own father never paid much attention to her, but she found out pretty quickly that other men her father’s age would be more than willing to spend time with her. She was pretty…almost beautiful even. A lot of her friends teased her about her always having boyfriends at least a decade older than her, but she knew what she liked and wasn’t afraid to go after it. Besides, there were perks to dating older men. They often had better cars, better homes, and what they sometimes lacked in overall sex drive they more than made up for in skill.

  “My son eats a lot of fiber…a whole lot of fiber.” Gary winked.

  “So?” Todd asked. It was clear by his and all the other teens reactions that they were still too young to truly appreciate the unholy magic a bran muffin might work on a grown man’s digestive tract.

  “So…my boy’ll still be taking a shit when you’re naming your firstborn.” Gary said playfully. He had a teasing twinkle set in his blue eyes.

  “So it’s going to be just us then?” Ashley asked hopefully as she snuggled up into the crook of the older man’s arm.

  “Yeah Baby. It’s just you…and me…and these guys. So let’s enjoy it while we can.”

  Ashley smiled and let her head rest dreamily against his manly chest, “It sounds wonderful to me.”

  “AAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRGH!” Marvin screamed.

  “What was that?” Todd asked nervously. He was trying not to panic, but his voice came out a grinding squeal.

  Gary grinned and gently looked the young teen in the eyes, “It sounds like your camp counselor was standing downwind of my son’s latest bowel movement. I sure don’t envy that poor bastard.” Todd thought about it for a moment, and then relaxed.

  “Are you sure he’s okay?” Ashley asked. It had sounded like the man had been terrified of something.

  “Yeah, he’s fine. I promise. Although his nose hairs might be a little singed.” Gary teased. The teenage boys all giggled, and the teenage girls all turned up their nose as though disgusted, but even they smirked a little.

  “Okay, so let’s get this out of the way. Anybody want to hear a boring ass story about a giant lizard that loves you if you love him?” None of the teenagers raised their hands. Gary waited to make sure the kids, and that’s what they were to him, had plenty of time to make their decision. When he was sure that none of them wanted to hear anything about that kind of stuff. “Okay, now who wants to hear a dirty little campfire horror story about zombies, and zombie werewolves?” Every hand shot up. “That’s what I thought. Well then I’d better get my thumb out of my ass and start telling the story. It’s a long one, and I’d hate for ya’ll not to get to hear it before we have to say goodbye. I mean if your Uncle Gary can’t tell you a dirty story that corrupts your innocence and upsets your parents, and more specifically pisses off that asshole Marvin, then what good am I right?”

  The teenagers laughed and cheered, and even Ashley giggled. She even pretended not to notice his hand tracing the outline of her bra with his thumb. She pressed in closer and purred, “So tell us the story...Mr. G.”

  Gary teased the outline of her bra strap a few more moments before continuing, “Well, like I said. Jessup was all stretched out on the ground with a hot babe in one arm, and that damned little albino armadillo in the other. He just lay there thinking about how it all began. He thought back to before he was a zombie werewolf. It’d been awhile, but he still remembered the day everything changed. He recalled most of it as clearly any man could be expected to…”

  Chapter Six

  ***TUESDAY, JANUARY 22th, 2013 – THE BAYOU IN LIVINGSTON PARISH, LOUISIANA***

  Creedence Clearwater Revival was blasting out over the cheap battery operated radio. A prematurely balding man was digging to the beat. Occasionally he’d stop and pretend the shovel was his microphone while he sang to a crowd of applauding fans. Sometimes he’d wink with his one good eye at the imaginary women, and sometimes he’d even wink with his dull glass eye. He even pretended to catch the imaginary panties thrown at him, and wipe the sweat from his brow with them. The few hairs left on his head swayed back and forth as he bobbed his head to the music. Sweat stains covered the front and back of his old gray shirt that said, “You bring your Vagina Monologue to my Dick Soliloquy and we’ll have us one hell of a conversation.”

  “That’s it…I’m done.” Bubba said as he stuck his shovel into the clay for the last time. “Jessup? I’m done. You ready to go?”

  Jessup Greer stepped out of the nearby camper and walked over to his brother, “What the fuck is that supposed to be?”

  “Shitter hole.” Bubba said proudly.

  “Bubba? How do you make an outhouse hole?”

  Bubba looked exasperated as he pointed at the hole like it should be self-evident, but after a few moments of Jessup waiting on an explanation, Bubba spat and then said, “Ya dig a hole six by three. Then later we build an outhouse over it.”

  Jessup looked up in the sky as if asking “Why me?” Then he shook his head and said, “Yeah, only problem is you dig it six feet deep by three feet wide. You doofus…what good is a hole six foot wide by three foot deep. What? Do you think the shit needs somewhere to stretch its legs?”

  Bubba slowly realized the mistake, “We can still use it right?”

  “We’re gonna have to dig another one unless you just are hellbent on having the first shithouse with a porch.”

  “It might be kind of fancy?” Bubba said. He was still hoping he could avoid digging another hole. He hated digging. You never knew when water might start seeping into your hole whenever you were digging, but if you ever had to dig anything substantial you could almost always count on having to make a few attempts before you made a dry hole deep enough.

  Jessup eyed his brother, “If you want to build it then what the hell, knock yourself out, but don’t cry to me if a ‘coon bites you on the ass. Of course you realize we’ll need to dig another outhouse hole in about a month with it that shallow.”

  “I like hitting nails better than digging shitholes any day.”

  “The smell will be pretty bad.” Jessup countered.

  “I’ve been behind you after taco night. It’s bad anyway.” Bubba grinned.

  “There’ll be flies.”

  “Fly strips.” Bubba responded defiantly.

  Jessup sighed in defeat, “Fine, but if I hear anything shuffling down there after we get the outhouse built then you’re going to be the one that has to kill it.”

  “Deal.”

  “And you have to dig the next one.” Jessup grinned.

  “But I just dug this one. We agreed to switch. I dig the first one, and then you dig the next one.” Bubba protested.

  “Yeah, and you still haven’t dug the first one. Now come on, we can’t hang around all day while you play with yourself. Give me a hand with the inside of our n
ew junkyard slash garage office.” Jessup picked up his tool belt and headed for an old abandoned building.

  “I still can’t believe you bought this crappy place? Couldn’t we have gotten something closer to the city?” Bubba grumbled.

  “Listen, we’ll be the only tow truck company for miles along this stretch of highway twelve. That’s practically a license to print money, and once we get this old garage fixed up we’ll be able to bring them back here, and charge whatever we want for parts and labor.”

  “What keeps them from calling another tow truck and having their vehicle dragged off somewhere else?” Bubba asked.

  Jessup grinned, “Who’s gonna pay a hundred and fifty to two hundred to bring their vehicle here, then pay maybe three or four hundred to get to the nearest garage? They’ll pay whatever we charge just as long as our markup is still cheaper than the tow somewhere else. We have them over a barrel. Now come on, we just have to finish installing the new garage door and then everything will be perfect.”

  It wasn’t long before they had the door up. Both brothers were in a mood to celebrate. Bubba ran over and got his portable radio. He set it on their newly acquired Craftsman tool chest that they somehow had pushed right out of the Sears, onto the loading dock, and into the bed of their pickup without anyone noticing. It was right next to the air compressor they “borrowed” from an old neighbor just before they moved. Everything in the garage had been “appropriated” from their original owners without their knowledge or consent up to and including both the radio and the Metallica mix tape that Bubba had “liberated” from a car they'd towed while working for their old boss. Of course Bubba and Jessup had “liberated” quite a few things from the cars they towed, and once their boss found out, he immediately “liberated” them from their jobs.

  Metallica was blasting out of the garage at “instant deafness” levels. Both Brothers were in particularly good moods, and it showed. Heads bobbed up and down at a frantic pace, air guitars were cranked to eleven, and they stomped around with an attempt at rhythm neither man possessed. They were just two white trash Cajun morons that were having a good time. That’s when the batteries began to die on the radio in the middle of “All Nightmare Long”. James Hetfield’s voice went from growling and intense, to sounding sleepy and drunk. Finally, the tape stopped all together.

  “Shit.” Bubba grumbled.

  “Well ain’t that thing got a chord?” Jessup asked.

  “Yeah, give me a second.” Bubba took the chord and plugged it in.

  “Well?” Jessup asked impatiently.

  “Well what…socket must be dead.”

  Jessup shook his head, “I thought you fixed the wiring.”

  “I did, but I didn’t go around checking every wall plug. I mean usually either the power works or it don’t.”

  “Well I guess it’s just one more thing we gotta fix. Go flip the breaker, I’ll get a screwdriver and see what’s wrong with the plug. Maybe we’ll be lucky and it’ll just be a loose wire.” Jessup said as he searched through the tools.

  Bubba walked around the outside of the building. When he reached the breaker box, he flipped everything to off. Then he made his way back to the garage. Jessup was already on his knees trying to remove the cover. The screwdriver turned, but the screw wouldn’t loosen.

  Jessup finally leaned back and groaned, “Shit, the screw is stripped. We’re gonna have to…what the hell?”

  “What?” Bubba asked, trying to see over his brother’s shoulder.

  “Back up! You’re blocking my light.” Jessup snapped. After Bubba took a few steps back Jessup leaned closer to get a better look. “Well shit, this whole thing is loose.” Jessup spun the wall plug around, “Looks like I’m going to have to yank this whole damn thing out.”

  Jessup got up and started searching the tools. Meanwhile, Bubba felt the need to put his two cents in. He got down on the floor and took a closer look. It was just as loose as his brother had said. Bubba spun the faceplate around once, and then he turned it again in frustration. “Yep, damn thing is looser than Sally Mae’s cootch.”

  “You banged Sally Mae?” Jessup asked.

  “Who ain’t banged Sally Mae? If that gal’s pussy was a tire the rubber’d be all worn off and she’d be running on the rim.” Bubba laughed.

  “When did you bang Sally Mae?”

  “Remember about two months ago when I went to the doctor?”

  “Yeah.” Jessup answered.

  “About a month before that…bitch gave me chlamydia.”

  “No shit?”

  Bubba groaned, “Yeah, and the crabs.”

  “Seriously, crabs?”

  “Yeah, I felt so stupid combing my junk. It was like I was some faggy hair dresser…but for peckers.”

  Jessup laughed, “Well it’s good to have a skill. We know you can’t dig a shithouse hole to save your life. Maybe you got a future as a pecker stylist. We could set you up a booth in the corner to earn some extra money.”

  “Don’t even joke like that.” Bubba shuddered.

  “So you and Sally Mae?”

  “Yep, behind the dumpster near the Baskin Robbins.” Bubba laughed. “Girl will do damn near anything for some Jamoca Almond Fudge.”

  “Yep.” Jessup laughed.

  “What? You got some of Sally Mae too?”

  “Brother like you said…who ain’t banged Sally Mae.”

  “No shit?”

  “No shit. Of course I didn’t have to go to the doctor later. All it cost me was a scoop of Rocky Road, and a few dozen mosquito bites on my ass.” Jessup doubled over laughing.

  “Well she does like her ice cream. You’d think she’d be a chubby gal, but she’s skinny as a rail.”

  “All the fat just goes to her tits…not that I was complaining.”

  Bubba snorted, “Yeah that is the best thing about her. She’s got a face a bulldog would have to get drunk to fuck, but those titties are un-fucking-believable. They damn near made the crabs worth it, and when she does that thing with her hips.”

  “She is flexible.” Jessup grinned.

  “Hell she bends in ways that’d make Gumby scream.”

  “Yeah it’s hot as hell, kind of makes up for that godawful sound she makes when she cums.”

  Bubba nodded, “You heard that too huh. Sounds like a ninety year old man taking a really painful shit during an asthma attack.”

  “I know right….AAAAAAAAAAAAAA-hooo-RRRRRRRRRRRRR-haaaaa-GGGGGGGGGGG-eeeeeeept” Jessup did his best impersonation of the girl. “I swear to God I thought she was gonna shit on my nuts. I would of stopped right then, but the girl fucks like a damn wildcat on meth.”

  “I know…shit. I wonder what she’s doing tomorrow night.” Bubba grinned.

  “By the look on your face…she’ll probably be giving you herpes.” Jessup said, and then his eyes turned to the center of the room.

  “Hahaha, yeah but it might just be worth it. Girl’d get a gold medal in…what you looking at?” Bubba turned and saw a rectangular area had lowered in the center of the room.

  “What in the blue hell?” Jessup questioned.

  “You think it’s foundation problems?”

  “Ain’t no foundation problem I ever heard about did this.” Jessup said, and then he stepped onto the rectangular area. The platform started lowering. He gave a panicked, “Oh shit!”

  Bubba hopped down onto the platform with his brother, and they sank down into the darkness. It took a while, but eventually they reached the bottom. Bright lights flashed on, blinding both men. After a few moments they dimmed to something more tolerable. Finally, after their eyes adjusted, they could see everything. Of course seeing everything pretty much just amounted to three walls, a platform for them to stand on, a huge steel door with a glass window, and a keypad. There really wasn’t much else.

  “What the hell is that?” Bubba asked.

  Jessup shrugged and moved towards the security door. The window was still clear as the day it had been sealed. Jessup
and his brother pressed their faces to the glass to see inside, but all they could see was a long hallway. Bubba looked around and found the controls.

  “This says it’s on security lockdown? Any idea what that means?” Bubba asked.

  “It means we need to figure out a way to get through this door. There might be something valuable in there. Hell, worse comes to worse we can at least tie in to the electric down here and save some money on our bill. Plus maybe we can find some shit we can sell, pawn, or scrap.”

  “The button here says disengage lock.” Bubba pressed it, but nothing happened.

  “Shit. Hey, do we still have that old welding set?”

  “Yeah, but I don’t know if it still works.”

  Both men went to the platform. It took them a few minutes to figure out how to make the platform rise again. Once they got back up they ran to the trailer and found the welding set. They then pulled it all the way back, hopped onto the same spot and…nothing.

  “What the fuck man? How do we make it go down?” Jessup screamed.

  “I don’t know. Maybe it’s like one of those trick doors or something. What were we doing when it went down the first time?”

  “We were talking about Sally Mae’s cooter.”

  Bubba shook his head, “No, before that.”

  “We were working on…THE BROKEN WALL PLUG.” Jessup screamed excitedly. He ran over and spun it once. Then turned around and…nothing. “Well shit.”

  “Wait…then I did this.” Bubba turned the faceplate twice. He stood up just as the rectangle in the center of the room lowered.

  “YES!” Both men screamed as they loaded onto the platform with the welding supplies. Once down there it took Bubba an hour to cut through the door, but eventually he had an opening big enough that a person could walk through comfortably. He’d have been done sooner, but Jessup made him make the opening large enough that they could carry anything they found back out.

  “Are those bodies?” Bubba asked nervously.