Accidents happen. So do intentions. Sometimes the two get mixed up together and somebody’s head happens to smash into a brick wall. In a city where there are more cars than parking spaces, you can’t be too careful about where you leave your vehicle. See what happens when the narrator of “The Spot” defends his own treasured vehicular real estate.

In this third installment of the Baby Idiots series, our nameless narrator is willing to resort to violence in order to protect what he is pretty sure belongs to him… his spot.

Here is an excerpt:

The thing is, sometimes most people just don’t get it most of the time.

Like when you have to work almost a whole shift taking tickets at the movie theatre and all you want to do is go home. But the other thing is, when you live someplace like an unpermitted studio apartment above a medical marijuana dispensary, you don’t always get what you want.

Parking especially.

And just when you think the whole world is the biggest bummer on earth, it gets to be an even bigger bummer because someone parked their wicked new convertible in your spot.

The fact that the car is basically the baddest ride you’ve ever seen and only several decades newer than your crappy moped doesn’t stir up any feelings of resentment at all. You just want to park in your own spot, but you can’t expect some guy who drives a convertible to get that.

Just like you can’t expect movie theatre customers and managers not to be full on dickheads. Those people just don’t get it.

But the thing is, as soon as you see this convertible sitting there silent but deadly in your spot, you know it’s up to you to help the driver—help him get it.

Read “The Spot” »

“The Spot” was originally published by Out of the Gutter, a website publishing flash fiction.

The Baby Idiots series started as a simple story with a simple question in mind. How do you write a story about an irredeemable jerk you just have to love, even when that jerk is bashing someone’s brains in?

 

 

 

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