THE MAN WITH THE SCARY EYES
A Humorously Bad Short Story
by Alex Braude
The man’s eyes still scared me even though some time had passed, I would never get used to looking at eyes like that. They were the eyes of a bear. Not the kind of eyes a cute teddy bear has or the kind that the bears I saw at the zoo had because they just looked sad and bored. No I am talking about a dangerous scary bear whose danger is only overshadowed by its unpredictable and blood thirsty and predatory and animalistic nature, only.
“Hi,” I said back.
“You have something I want, kid,” said the man.
“Is it this?” I asked putting my hand into my pocket and the bringing it out and flipping him off. Except that that is what I did in my mind but really I just said, “What?”
“You know what. The sacred bronze statue of the zubu zubu tribe. I know you stole it.”
You see, the scared bronze statue of the zubu zubu tribe is a magical object. How I ended up with it in my possession is quite an intriguing story of chance. It all started when I was kidnapped two days earlier. I was walking down Main Street when it all started. I was walking and minding my own business when suddenly I was grabbed and a bag was put onto my head and–
The man was snapping his fingers again.
“What,” I said. I intentionally said it as a statement not a question because I was annoyed at the interruption, you see I like to really get into my thoughts because that is the kind of guy I am. I am that kind of quiet introspective guy that is quite relatable to people who read books.
“Hand over the sacred bronze statue of the zubu zubu tribe.”
“Ok.” I reached into my backpack (blue of course, my favourite colour) and fished around trying to find it. I also had half a sandwich (salami and cheese on white bread with butter) in a ziplock bag, some pens, a light weight zip jacket, my earphones, a few pens, an apple (which I had completely forgotten about), a notebook and what I thought was a quite well written novel about a boy who runs away from boarding school and lives it up in the big city briefly. It is called Catcher in the Rye and I recommend it. I pulled out the statue and handed it to him.
“Thanks,” he said.
“You’re welcome,” I said.
“Have a nice day,” he said.
“You too,” I said.
Suddenly we heard thunder in the distance.
“Wow this sure is some weather,” he said.
“I know. It is quite unpredictable,” I said.
“Well take care,” he said. I looked at his eyes again. Suddenly they didn’t look that scary anymore. We shook hands and parted ways.
Alex, on why it’s bad:
I tried to write as many stupid sentences and descriptions as I could. The plot itself doesn’t end properly, theres no real climax, it’s disjointed, and the story is full of irrelevant tangents. Things that didn’t need to be described were, and things that did, weren’t. Basically I tried to write it in a way that was disjointed and didn’t really make sense, I just wanted the whole story to be dumb.
I also put in a few things that writers sometimes do to make their characters relatable to the typical introverted reader, as if doing so will win them over and make them like the book. This is something I find really tacky when it’s done badly so I did it as badly as possible.
Perhaps there are other reasons why it is bad, but those were the ones I was going for (lol).