Saturday's Storyteller: "The candy corn was alive. And it was most offended that I don't like candy corn."

by Belinda Roddie

The candy corn was alive. And it was most offended that I don't like candy corn. I tried to tell it it tasted like day-old earwax, but it was just not having it, bro.

"'Ey, fuck you, dawg," it said to me. "Fuck you. But also, fuck you. And finally, fuck you. Do you know who I am, bitch?"

"...a poor excuse for Halloween candy?"

"Fuck you."

"Look, there are plenty of others that are happy to eat candy corn. I just think it's worse than licking a cat's asshole."

"Oh, yeah? You like licking cat's assholes, buddy? Is that what you're sayin'?"

"N-no. I used it as a negative alternative."

"'Ey, fuck you! Cat asshole licker! Horny pervert cat asshole licking biiiiitch!"

"Damn, dude," I said. "What made you such a potty mouth?"

"Bitches like you, bro!"

"Okay, besides me," I groaned.

The candy corn thought about it before responding: "Well...my dad left me when I was just manufactured. My mom never really loved. My brother's addicted to pixie sticks. My sister's a whore. It's just rough, man. Especially in October."

I blinked. "Really?"

"No, you bitch! It's candy corn hating wastes of space like you, motherfucking asshole!" bellowed the candy corn. "Candy cornophobic, diabetic, loser Halloween-cocksucking, Jack-o-Lantern0-fucking biiiiiiiiitch!"

I fed the profane prick to my dog.

This week's prompt was provided by Jocelyn Morton.