Night of the Little Fat-Men

by Richard C. Gray

The headlights of a mustang pierced through the dreary night as it took a sharp turn into a small neighborhood. The V8 engine roared as the driver spotted his dates house on the corner of the street. He sped up then the car came to a desperate halt with screeching tires in front of her driveway. Parker, the driver, rubbed the back of his shaved head and stroked his black goatee then turned to his companion. She was hot, but annoying as all else. Now that his booty call had been taken care of he couldn't stand being in the same car as her for another minute. Hence the desperate driving. "Well," Parker grumbled, "we're at your house."

She looked hurt, "Well, aren't you going to turn your engine off and walk me to my door."

Parker thought for a moment. The only reason to walk a woman to their door was a last ditch effort to get some loving before the evening was through. However if he walked her to the door he'd have to listen to her for another few minutes. It came down to a very important decision. Was it worth the extra kiss good night to have to listen to the sound of her voice for those extra few minutes. It was an easy decision. "No, I'm good." They had been making out for the last few hours and his lips were sore anyway.

She glared at him with angry eyes, "Do you know what I am?!"

Parker thought to himself, 'don't say what you really think, don't say what you really think, don't say what you really think.' "Annoying?" he said. Whoops. He said what he really thought. Never a good thing for a man to do in front of a woman.

Her eyes seemed to glow for an instant and thunder ripped through the sky. "You do realize, of course, that I'm an incredibly powerful witch with the power to destroy you and all you hold dear in your miserable life, DON'T YOU!"

Parker shrugged, "Aren't all women like that?"

"Ahhh," she hissed, "I'm an evil sorceress, you idiot!"

Parker looked down at her. The first thing he noticed was the incredibly nice shape of her, uh, 'personality'... Then, for the first time, he noticed the fact she was wearing all black with a pentagram around her neck and something weird drawn on her white painted face. Oh yea, she also had a black pointed hat and a little broom in her purse.

"Uh," Parker grumbled, "I just thought you were a gothic or something."

"Damn you Parker Mckenzie!" she cried as she stepped out of the mustang. Before shutting the door to his car she looked in his eyes and growled, "I now use my witch powers to curse you Parker. I curse you that all you love in life will turn against you!" Then she chanted something in Latin and slammed the door shut.

He unrolled the window as she angrily stomped to her front door, "Hey!" he shouted, "what did I say about slamming the door. Don't hurt the mustang, Baby. Geesh."

She turned back, "You will die before morning Parker, at the hands of those you most love!"

"Okay," he shouted back, not listening to a word that was coming out of her mouth, "I'll call ya next time I'm in the mood, okay. Good. See ya." Man, he thought, what was her problem. He wasn't even sure if he even wanted to use her as a booty call next time. Then he thought back to her nice uh... 'personality', and scratched that idea.

On his way home he grabbed a burger and a big huge pile of curly fries from the local Arby's. He pulled his car into his driveway, got into his house and walked into his bed room with his food. He flicked his computer on to check his mail and update his website, www.ParodyPictures.com. In particular, he had a good idea for the 'I'm just Saying' section of the page were he blabbed on about life in general. It was sort of a thought-of-the-week thing for his many adoring and fabulously wonderful fans who he loved, worshiped, and promised to place in high level positions if the unpredictable twists and turns of life were to suddenly place him in control of the entire world (something his fans kept crossing their fingers for!).

As he started to load up his live journal there was a strange rustling from the back of his room. He turned, and it stopped. He shrugged, then went back to the screen and started typing. Suddenly the noise came back. He turned, again it was gone. He scanned the room as he stuck a curly fry in his mouth and waited. After a while he decided it was just his imagination. Then, when he turned back to his computer the window to his live journal had been minimized and instead the FAT MAN home page was up in front of him. FAT MAN was a comic strip he had worked on years ago before his latest creation, Curly Fries, became successful and in syndication. It was a story about an overweight, bumbling hero in a ill-fitting Bat Man costume with a stretched out yellow smilely face on his chest. He had always loved FAT MAN. In fact, out of all of his characters it was the one he most loved. He even had links to his former pet project on his ParodyPictures website. Still, he had no idea how the site suddenly popped up with his back turned. He minimized it, and brought back up his live-journal. Then, the noise started up again. He quickly turned his head and this time saw his work brief case jumping up and down. Then, it stopped.

It was the case were he kept all of his old sketch books. What was going on? He figured, somehow, a huge rat or something must have gotten into his brief case and now it was trying to get out. He cringed at the idea of the disgusting creature ravaging all of his beloved sketches. He decided that he would get a baseball bat from the room across the hall, come back, open up the case, and beat the daylights out of whatever little beast was in there. He sat up from his chair, went to the work room. As he picked up the bat he could hear all sorts of rustling noises and commotion coming from his bed room. "What the," he grumbled to himself. He didn't see how one rat could cause all that noise. As he rushed back into his room the brief case was laying open on his bed. He slowly crept up to it, clutching onto his baseball bat, and looked down. His dedicated FAT MAN sketch book was on top even though he hadn't looked at it in months. He slowly picked it up, and opened it, flipped through the pages. On every single page the drawings of FAT MAN were gone. "What the.." Parker gasped. The backgrounds were untouched. The sketches of Kung Fu Mike, FAT MAN's side kick, were just as they were. But, any trace of FAT MAN was just gone. Not like it had been erased or whited out, it was as if a pencil had never even touched that part of the paper.

Suddenly the theme song to Bat Man Forever crackled out of his PC's speakers. He turned and again the FAT MAN's home page was up. What was going on? What was happening? What had happened to all of his drawings?

He slowly sat down at his computer and looked at the web page. The jpeg of a proud, big bellied Fat Man was still there. However, his expression was different and the big belly heaved in and out as if the cartoon character on the computer screen was breathing. He hadn't touched the html code on the page in years. He certainly never put in an animated gif to make it look like FAT MAN was breathing. He then looked up to the scrolling text at the top of the page. He had coded it so that it would say, "Before George Clooney, Before Val Kilmer, Before Michael Keaton, There was FAT MAN." Now, as he watched, a new set of text scrolled by. It said, "Before Parody Pictures, Before Curly Fries, There was FAT MAN... You abandoned us Parker! Now we're all going to get you! My army of Fat Men are already going up the stairs to cut your family to pieces. THEN YOU'LL BE NEXT!"

Parker gasped, frantic, "What's going on, What's going on, What's going on." He looked down to where the FAT MAN cartoon had been on the Computer screen a moment earlier. It too was now suddenly gone! With that, he let out a shriek of fear and terror loud enough to wake the dead from their eternal slumber. Where had all the cartoons gone?! What did it mean when the website said that an army of FAT MEN were going up the stairs to cut his family to pieces? "AHHHHHHHHH," Parker screamed like a teenaged girl at an N'SYNC concert.

Parker continued to scream as he fumbled around the room clutching onto his baseball bat. "Where are you!?" he screamed out, "Where are you, you fat bastards!" He stopped screaming and started listening, scanning the room and jerking his head back and forth.

Suddenly there was a loud beep and a voice that filled him with chills echoed through the room, "What's going on Parker!" the voice shouted out. Parker jumped up onto his bed swinging his bat around and screaming. There was another beep and the voice continued, "Parker, we are all trying to sleep up here. Would you quiet it down." Parker looked down. It was his mothers voice on the intercom. His parents put an intercom from the upstairs to his bedroom downstairs so they could harass him without bothering to come looking for him.

Parker slowly slunk down and pressed the answer button, "Stay were you are mom," Parker ordered, "I'll be right up." Parker shivered a bit, then hurried up the stairs to the kitchen. His mom was standing there in a fluffy white night gown with an annoyed look on her face. She was shaking her head with one hand leaning on the buffet and the other resting on her hip. Her expression and stance was a distinct sign that she was not happy.

"What are you screaming about down there, Parker?"

"Mom," Parker gasped. "We have to get out of the house. Now! There's an army of FAT MANs after us."

"Huh?"

"Mom," Parker Continued, "It's FAT MAN. He's out to get me. An army of FAT MANs."

His mom gave a perplexed look, "Did that gothic girl give you drugs? You remember what we talked about. You do drugs and we kick you out of the house? Remember?"

"Ma, but... But," Parker grumbled.

"No Buts", his mother growled. "You mention one more thing about this and your father and I are ganna make you pee in a cup." She shook her head, then went back to bed.

Parker stood there thinking. Maybe he just wasn't getting enough sleep. Maybe that gothic girl slipped him something when he wasn't looking. (What was her name again?) Maybe all he needed was to get a snack and go to bed and he would wake up and it would all be okay. That's it. Eat a snack, go to bed, in the morning it would all be okay. He took a moment to try and calm his nerves then opened up the fridge and went for the big bowl of pasta like a good Itallian boy should. As he picked it up he looked down, and something was moving inside it. He gasped, trying not to make noise, and dropped the bowl on the table. The noodles undulated as one by one something inside slurped them up. As the pasta disappeared inside was a six inch tall 3-D FAT MAN. It was the one from his computer screen. He had pasta sauce all over his little cape and cowl and his stomach had bulged out so far his suit could no longer fit over his belly button. It was like a scene out of Roger Rabbit. The little cartoon man smacked his lips and patted his stomach as he let out a toxic burp.

"Oh yea," the little Fat Man sighed, "that was a go'ol fashioned Itallian cooking." He looked up to Parker with wide eyes, "Oh... It's you. Parker, my man, shake my hand."

Uh... Okay" Parker shook out of his mouth. Shivering, he slowly reached out his hand to shake the little FAT MAN's.

"Hey, Parker," the FAT MAN said, "Would you mind opening the cupboards up."

"Uh... Sure, I-I guess," Parker sighed. One by one he opened up the kitchen cupboards. In all of them were little FAT MEN from his sketch book gorging themselves on food. Some were in black and white, others color, and all of them too bloated to move.

"Uhhhh..." One of them groaned with delight, "I can't believe I found a donut my same size." Another one of the little cartoons grumbled, "Yea, and I can't believe we each had two of them. Being a cartoon is great!"

"Huh," Parker gasped.

Another one called out, "Hey guys, look what I can do." He got a running start, then did a belly flop off the kitchen counter. He started bouncing up and down like a rubber ball, "Boingy, Boingy, Boingy," he called with each bounce.

"Ah, cut it out man," One of the extremely bloated ones groaned as he crawled out of a Doritos bag. "Watching you do that's ganna make me puke." The little guy clutched onto his gooy stomach, "Uh oh... Too... Many... Doritos.... won't... Stay... In..." With a jet of Dorito vomit the little cartoon slid off the table and splatted on the floor.

"Ewwww, Grosss Man," All the other Fat Men called out in unison.

Suddenly there was the sound of little fists pounding at the freezer. The one laying in the pasta bowl frantically called out, "Don't say you forgot to let out the ones in the Freezer! Hurry Parker, hurry!"

Parker opened up the freezer and five, 4 inch tall FAT MEN fell out with ice-cream covering their mouths. They rolled on the kitchen floor, shivering. "Cold.." one of them gasped, "so cold... but... so sweet... Couldn't... resist.... Couldn't resist the giant tub of rocky road... Like a moth to the flame... So k-k-k-co-ho-ho-hold."

After a deep sigh Parker looked around and started smiling, "You know what guys," Parker said, "you all are pretty cool, you know."

"Right on," one called from the pasta bowl, "Spooge, man."

Parker smiled. In the Fat Man comic strip he had made years earlier spooge had been the Fat Man's war cry. "You know... I thought you guys were going to kill me and my family. But, well... now you all don't seem so bad."

They all were silent for a long moment.

"You aren't all going to kill me and my family are you?" Parked gasped.

"Well, sure we are," The one in the bowl said. Another called out, "What would make you think we weren't. We said we were going to, didn't we?" Another, "Yea we did. We put it on the website." Parker looked to the one in the pasta bowl. The little living cartoon explained, "Don't you get it Parker," he sighed, "The kitchen was on the way to your families bed rooms."

The one that was bouncing slowly stopped and got to his feet, "We are all FAT MAN after all. You wouldn't expect us to pass through a kitchen without getting a light snack, would you? Especially when there's a big job like slicing giant people into little teeny bits ahead of us."

"But why?" Parker shook.

"Well," one of them explained, "I would say it's because you haven't drawn us in ages. But, in reality, we're really just planning on killing you for the hell of it. Sounded kinda like fun. Besides, it's Halloween. That's what creations do to their creators this time of year... Don't fight it man... It'll give you a warm Halloween fuzzy when we rip out your heart and feed it to you." They all nodded and agreed in unison.

"Oh," Parker gasped, terrified.

There was a cascade of belching as they all stood, flabby but ready to fight. "I think it's time to rip out your intestines and make sausages. What do you think Parker?"

Parker screamed out, "Not if I get you guys first! Die you fat bastards! Die!" He flew his baseball bat at them. The little fat ninjas scurried out of the way and one caught hold of the end of the bat. Parker flung the bat around trying to shake him off as another lurched forward and bit down on Parker's ankle. Parker kicked his foot out, sending the ankle biter to the wall. As the one holding onto the bat started crawling closer to the handle Parker threw the bat down and headed outside. He flew to his mustang with the army of lovable, blood-thirsty cartoons chasing after him.

He got to his car, slammed the door shut and locked himself in. The little fists immediately started pounding at his door and others crawled up onto the hood of his mustang and started pounding on the windshield. "This isn't happening," Parker screamed out as his engine roared to life and he started to back out, "This can't be happening." The car shook around as it rolled over a number of the little FAT MEN on it's way out the driveway to the street. He gunned his car up and raced out of his circle speeding as fast as he possibly could. As the little men started blocking up his windshield he turned on his wipers. A few got thrown down to the street and left behind but most of them held tight onto the wipers as they swayed back and forth.

Suddenly, a noxious smell began to fill his car. It was a mixture of car exhaust and fart gas. The ones on his windshield laughed and called out, "One of our men just stuffed their big ass into your tail pipe Parker! You're going down cartoon man!"

Parker screamed out like a little girld. If he kept driving his car the exhaust fumes would kill him. If those little fat demons got in they'd carve him up. Parker suddenly brought his mustang to a quick stop, throwing off about half of the little monsters and disorienting the other half. Then, he immediately revved his car back up as fast as he could. Before he knew it, not only did he have an army of vicious cartoons after him he also had cops on his tail. After all, what do you expect when you go 80 in a residential.

The FAT MEN started taunting him to pull over. "C'mon Parker, pull over" "Yea Parker, we dare you." "It's the law Parker" "It's the law Parker. Yer ganna be on COPS if you don't pull over and let us kill you." Before he knew it a cop rammed his rear tire and sent the Mustang spinning out of control. There was a white flash of an air bag inflating in front of his face, then it all went dark.

The next thing he knew he was lying in a stretcher, tied down so he couldn't move with a thing around his neck. There were paramedics all around him and the flashing lights made him dizzy. He looked over, his poor car was toast, completely smashed up. "My car!!!" Parker screamed. "Dear lord why? It was so young, so vibrant. No, lord, please, take me instead," he wept. Then, Parker noticed the streets weren't filled with dead cartoon bodies. Where did they all go?

Parker started to gasp and scream out, "What happened to all those FAT MEN! Where are they! Where are those little fat bastards!"

"Stay calm sir," One of the Paramedics said.

Parker's parents walked up to the side of him. His mother shook her head then turned to the police and the paramedics, "I think some girl he was out with tonight gave him some hallucinogens. He was screaming about little men before he ran out to his car."

"No," Parker cried, "Can't sleep. The FAT MEN will get me. Can't sleep! The FAT MEN will get me!" Parker's mom sighed as the paramedics stuck him with a needle then shoved him into the back of the ambulance. Parker became drowsy as they shut the ambulance doors behind them.

Once Parker was alone a little voice called out in the corner, "Wow!". One of the FAT MEN walked out with a handful of needles stuck deep in his hind end, "This stuff is making me feel funky."

Another one of the FAT MEN crawled out from hiding. "Can I try?" He stuck his bulging hind end out, "here, stick one in."

Ten more jumped out and landed on Parker's Stomach, "No, guys, I say we make some sausage out of Parker's intestines first. Then we play with the funky pointed sticks."

"I know," one called out as they raised their hand, "why don't we stick all of the needles in this ambulance in him at once and see what happens."

"No!" Parker cried out as the drugs drifted him off to sleep, "The FAT MEN... Stop them!"

Even more crawled out of hiding in the back of the ambulance. One said, "No, those ideas are all boring. I have something very interesting we could try on him once he falls asleep. I say we pioneer the worlds first Jello enema?" Another one of them joyously agreed, "Yes!" "Think of what a jello enema could do for the world?" "We'll get a nobel prize!" "There's always room for Jello!" They all looked down at Parker with angry little faces as he uncontrollably drifted off to a drug induced sleep. All Parker could do, drugged and tied down, was sit and listen to what his cartoon creations would do to him once he was unconscious. Just before his eyes became too heavy to keep open they all climbed on top of his chest and looked him in the eye. They all sang a chorus of evil high-pitched giggling, "There's always room for jello," as Parker's eyes finally closed...


THE END

by Richard Gray