Previous Challenge Entry (Level 1 – Beginner)
Topic: TOURIST TRAP (08/20/15)
- TITLE: A Day in Hell
By Loni Bowden-Horn
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The intensity of the white rays of the sun scorched the asphalt like molten lava spewing from a volcano. Since the air conditioning in his dilapidated truck had broken, Bubba’s face had begun to glisten and beads of perspiration dripped down the nape of his neck.
The acrid air that permeated his lungs felt as if he had inhaled liquid fire. Panic set in as Bubba’s air passages constricted and he gasped for breath. The lack of oxygen sucked the life right out of him.
Bubba abruptly stopped his truck. Pillaging through the empty soda cans and candy wrappers on the front passenger seat, he reached for his inhaler and took a puff. After he counted to three, Bubba slowly exhaled the air that tasted like bitter chemicals from his system. His breathing gradually returned to normal.
As he peered through his windshield, Bubba noticed a shroud of hazy fog had transcended over a strange array of crumbling concrete humanoid statues. These eerie figures, which gradually decreased in size and shape, guarded the entrance of Hell.
Bubba had two choices. Should he go into Hell or remain on the straight and narrow path that led into Paradise?
As he noticed the slippery snake slither away in the grassy knoll, a thought popped into Bubba’s mind…I can quench your thirst for…power…riches…knowledge…just drink from the waters of Sheol.
Lured into the Gates of Hell by his own fleshly desires, Bubba chose to ignore the warning signs and his heart began to harden.
Ole Bubba didn’t have to look very far before he located a watering hole to get a glass of spirits. The fiery flames danced all around him as he entered the pit of Hell.Bubba lifted the frosty mug to his lips as he savored the cool liquid going down his parched throat. He noticed that no matter how much of the drink that was offered, it was never enough to satisfy him.
He was assured by the staff that “calories burn faster in Hell”.
He decided to go outside to find a toilet. A posted sign said, “No Public Restrooms in this establishment please use the facilities on the outside of the building.”
A foul smell of sulfa assaulted his nostrils as Bubba opened the door to the port-o-johns. The stench of the outhouse lingered in his senses for a few minutes longer than he anticipated.
Sauntering into the general store to look around, Bubba learned that George Reeves first settled in the land in 1838. George operated a grist mill and general store on the banks of the river. He often paid the local farmers in the area for their grain, in the form of distilled whiskey. If their wives were questioned about the whereabouts of their husbands during harvest season, many of them responded, “He’s gone to Hell again.” The name stuck and so it became an official town in 1841.
Looking to make a killing in real estate, Bubba bought a prime piece of property in Hell. A parcel of land sold for $6.66 per square inch.
Bubba was now inducted into a prestigious group of property owners known as, “The Hell Landowners Society.”
He contemplated gathering up some of his minions to overtake the community. With just seventy-two residents in the town, it would be a piece of cake.
He would have to wait a few months longer before the mayoral elections were held. The signage indicated that the community voted each year when “Hell” froze over.” The wintery mix would begin by the month of November.
After all, Bubba figured he already lived in outer darkness. When the City of Detroit decided to turn the street lights off at night to save on electricity, he was left in the black. Bubba figured it would only take an hour to drive from Detroit to Hell each day.
It was time to go to the post office to “seal the deal.” The yellowish-orange flames flickered as the postal clerk held up the lighter to singe the edges of the manila envelope. The postal clerk stamped the package, “property taxes from Hell.”
Bubba turned around one more time to take a look at the possibilities of this godforsaken town. This was the only place to go for a sinner like himself to build his kingdom.
Hell, Michigan is a real town and the information regarding George Reeves is factual.
You do get a certificate for “The Hell Landowners Society.” and there is a post office that stamps, “taxes from Hell”. The characters and the situations are made up.
There is also a Paradise, Michigan.
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