Broken Shells

Jake looked at his friend in the ancient Humpty Dumpty costume. “I told you you were too big for it.”

“Shut up and get me out of this, it smells like old meat and cigarettes,” Bryan said. He was trying to reach the zipper on the back, spinning around in circles with his arms outstretched, hoping desperately that the next go-round would connect his fingers to the clasp that held him in.

“Hold your horses there Egg-boy.” Jake undid the fingers on his own costume, which looked nothing like the Cheshire Cat from the Disney version of Alice in Wonderland, even with the over sized smile and dark stripes, but it was the only one that fit him. He tugged at the zipper on the stained eggshell costume. “What the hell did you do?”

“I didn't do anything. You were the dumb-ass who said 'let's try these costumes on.'”

“Stop moving, I just about have it.”

“Hurry up, its getting hot in here and I gotta go.”

“Settle down, you won't be late for curfew. ” Jake said in between grunts. His fingers slipped on the clasp that held the zipper in place. “I don't know. We might have to go ask for some help.”

“I can't see a thing and I really have to pee, I don't have to be home for hours.”

“Oh,” Jake said and tugged as hard as his fourteen year old fingers could. Bryan's potty dance wasn't helping him out. “Maybe I could use the pliers my dad keeps in his truck.” Jake let go and started to cross the road to the blue Ford truck his dad had driven them in.

“Don't leave me here,” Bryan pleaded. He was grabbing himself, trying to hold back his bladder with one hand, and pulling at the top of the costume to see through the misplaced eye-holes with the other.

“Fine,” Jake said and walked back to take his friend's free hand. “Just stop grabbing yourself. What are you, three?”

“I can't help it. I shouldn't have drank that two liter of Mountain Dew.”

They started across the road as a dark GTO rounded the corner. The driver had his head tipped back, a bottle to his lips. Jake saw him and tried to pull his friend out of the way only to be clipped by the front bumper. Jake didn't see Bryan get run over by the car, but heard the crunch of bones and the thump of suspension.

By the time Jake dared to look the GTO was speeding down the road, a ragged piece of material clung to the undercarriage. Bryan, still locked in most of his costume, was twisted in unnatural forms and he wasn't leaking yolk.