The Best Gas Station EVER

I live on a street where you can find anything you could possibly need. There are all manner of restaurants, from McDonalds to The Olive Garden and everything in between. There's Best Buy, Circuit City, Radio Shack, 3 pizza delivery places, a grocery store, and every sort of little mom and pop specialty store that you could think of.

And now we have a third gas station.

It's brand new, and very spiffy.


It still looks good, even in magnificent blur-o-vision.


And then there's this.

I'm sure this has probably been the cause of many an accident.

Can't you see it? Let me illustrate the possibilities.

Joseph Blow had had an awful day at work. His assistant had unwittingly commented on Blow's Hawaiian shirt, unaware of the strict dress code. His boss had given him hell over it, proclaiming that on Thursdays, it was very important to dress impressively. Friday was perfectly fine for this sort of thing, though.

Joe was driving down the six-lane super-street at forty miles per hour, in the fast lane, when he saw a gas station. The sign read zeroes, all the way down. Frantically, Joe veered to the right, smashing into a suburban in the right lane. It blocked his entrance. Joe accidentally merged onto I-35, since he was stuck in the turn lane. But nothing would get in the way of his burning desire for free gas.

He jammed the wheel into a hard left and mashed the brake. In the rain, his awkwardly proportioned '92 Civic squealed and spun around, nearly crossing into the path of a speeding semi-truck. Unscathed, Joe barreled back down the on-ramp at eighty miles per hour.

As he dodged cars left and right, Mr. Blow pushed toward the gas station. Sweat was dripping from his brow, now. He drifted in sideways, so happy to have arrived in one piece that he had not noticed the course of his drift.

He slammed hard into the pump, shattering the car's window and several of the bones on his left side. The pump lurched, and with it the support beam, making a horrible groaning sound that drowned out the crushing pain in Joe's abdomen. Sparks flew, and the gigantic awning above the pumps teetered and began to descend upon the totaled car.

Joe finally worked the seat belt loose enough to slide out of the car, and limped toward the convenience store, trying to ignore the overwhelming screech of pain coming from his abdomen. But he couldn't hobble fast enough. He could see the awning bearing down on him, but he was going as fast as he could. He wouldn't make it.

The enormous metal slab crashed down on his shoulder with a tremendous clang. It threw him violently to the ground and stopped with an excruciating pressure on his leg. He was pinned.

Suddenly, all was calm. There was no need to panic; the paramedics would be here any minute. Now all he needed to do was wait and fight through the pain.

The explosion ripped through the silence like shit through a piece of one-ply toilet paper. Joe was shielded from the brunt of the explosion by the awning, but as he saw the flames gush out to engulf the people standing in the street staring at the spectacle, he could feel his leg, the one sticking out under the other side of the awning, being incinerated and eaten by the fire. He groaned and bellowed with all of his might.

His leg was weakened enough that the weight of the slab pinched the burnt portion off, freeing Blow from the trap. He desperately grasped for the faint, flashing red and white lights that approached from the distance. Everything became a blurry, confusing mess. The red light gradually grew brighter and bigger until he could feel it almost on top of him. Bustling men in orange scrubs muscled him on to a gurney and lifted him, but Joe could feel it all slipping away.

He had run out. He had no more energy left to continue breathing. His heart, too, was strained to the point of exhaustion. He felt it quietly relax, and was filled with relief. He could feel the consciousness slipping from his mind. He wished it would go faster. He would like to avoid witnessing his recovery. It would all be handled by the friendly doctors.

His body was numb now, but Joe didn't feel it, anyway; he had receded into his brain. He no longer inhabited his useless appendages. He could feel the stale blood, stagnant in his skull. His brain gasped for fuel.

Then, slowly, everything simply stopped.


Gee, I can't wait until the grand opening. What a blast!


First-timers: Don't worry. I'm not always this morbid.