Deathdrop,
Yautja,
11 years ago
Burrito monsters? You poor sheltered bastards. Those ain't burrito monsters. I seen the real ones. Seen em' right up close.
It was the summer of 95'. Hot summer, that year. You looked into the distance, and the air would do that little shimmer, like in desert movies. It was just four of us, back then. Guy name of Steve was driving the van. We'd just Someone said they were hungry. We'd just gotten off the freeway when we saw the sign. Taco Bell, 5 miles out. We had an extra half hour or so before we had to be wherever we were going. We were young. We didn't know.
We ordered burritos, every last one of us. We thought we could handle em'. There were spicy and shitty and filling. We didn't question how anything could be all three. Not once. We were so young. We finished em' right there in the parking lot. 6:00 PM, no one else around. You should have seen that pavement cook.
Steve's stomach was the first to start growlin', that much I remember. Then came the pain. Our guts turned into writhing snakes. I shat myself harder than I ever thought possible. After that, things get... blurry. Can't remember which of us vomited first. Maybe we all went at once. Maybe we went one at a time, like dominoes. All I can tell ya for sure is that the car never smelled the same.
Didn't see the burrito monster until it was too late. Fifteen feet a' beef, rice, and hate. Tore out of Steve's ass like a bat outta Hell. I tell you, I emptied a full clip of Motofen into it. Bastard kept comin'. Thing like that can't be stopped by the small stuff.
Alan tried to reach for some tums, but liquid shit blasted outta his ass like Satan's own fire hydrant. Shot him out the window and ten feet through the air. Jeremy was pukin' so hard the car was weighted down by it. The burrito monster was busy with Steve. Ole' Steve... Poor bastard was pouring Pepto-Bismol into that thing. Didn't even slow it down.
My own ass was bleeding from the sheer force of the shittin'. Had to bail out. Still remember Jeremy's face as the burrito monster tore into him. I'd held out as long as I could, but the shit wasn't takin' no for an answer. I used it to my advantage. I rocketed over the pavement. I can still feel the burns.
That dough-wrapped hellspawn was still after me, though. Crawlin' over the burning shit streak like a hound sniffin' blood. The blacktop hated me, but it hated him more. Cooked him right there. I looked around, and I seen flies and birds all over im'. He thrashed around for a full five minutes before he gave up on me. By then I had rocketed into the Taco Bell's air conditioning.
Last time I saw it, it was runnin' into the bushes. They never found the body.