Shell

Reviews of Shell

• John Slavin

  Mar, 21 2022
  ★ ★ ★ ★ ☆
  It was a dark, dark night. The wind whipped and thrashed at the trees, tearing their leaves away, bright lights casting psychotic shadows across the bonnet of the car. I stopped the engine and walked to the shop, but I was uneasy. I felt eyes searing their way into my flesh from all angles - but I had to carry on. I needed a fix, come what may. The shop was sleazy and dingily lit, with neon lights flickering. I asked the shop keeper as quietly as I could, so as not to raise the suspicions of anyone close by. "Got any... erm. You know... Haribo, mate?" "What? No. Get out" he replied. "Come on, I know you do. We have a mutual friend." He hesitated, glaring at me. And then, from under the counter, he pulled out a haggard-looking bag of Tangfastics, cut with what looked like Starmix. "No, the good stuff." There was another pause, but he knew what I needed. He unlocked a chest behind him, then got out a pristine pack of Super Mix out and and slammed it on the table. "ВЈ2, and get out." he shouted, looking shifty. I paid the asking price. I like the little men. I stuffed the bag into my jacket and hurried out, lifting my collar to keep the weather off. And then I saw them. Rats. Dozens of them. No, hundreds. They swarmed beneath my car, they clambered in and out of the bins, carrying off the remains of cows and hens to their lair. The floor was a writhing brown carpet of fur, interspersed with pink feet and tails... And their eyes, glowing, staring. They knew what I had, and they wanted it. They wanted the little men. I felt my heart quicken, perhaps my soul was trying to escape. Anything to evade the fate of being eaten alive by sharp, gnawing, yellow teeth. I froze on the spot. And they did the same. Countless pairs of eyes, piercing me like needles. "I ain't got anything!" I shouted, panic rising in my voice. They all started to head towards me. I cursed under my breath, then got the packet out. "Look, I'll give you half." I muttered. But it wasn't working, they wanted it all. There was nothing for it. I ripped the packet and grabbed a few milk bottles, hurling them towards the marauding rats and, in their brief second of distraction, I did all of the little jelly men. Every. One. The rush was intense. So intense I managed to haul myself through their lines and get to my car. I made it home. But I've found better ways to get my Haribo now. And my petrol.

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