I Crashed Into a Farm Barn in Nebraska and What I heard Haunts Me Today

I was driving towards Derry to see my old mates from the Loser's Club. That's what we used to call us, at least.

Tuning into the local AM, listening to someone called Jeb preach to his people, I was falling asleep, not having much the night before at the motel. It's taken me 3 days to get to this point.

You know when you doze off and wake up in your own bed and everything is sort of ok? Apart from everything else going on? Well, that's not how it turned out. When I came awake, I was balls deep in some farmer's daughter barn. Just like in Back to the Future III.

I said "What the hell's going on, Bobby?"

The machine did not answer. I was alone. It seems that no one had heard me intrude into their democide.

After a perfunctory check upon the 30 kg of Pink Panther in the back, I was relieved and found that it might be preferactios to stay the night in the barn, under this cozy ass hay and shit that was basically all over me.

Shit.

I broke out the whiskey bottle, the ramen-to-go, and the hot bottle. Life was good. Until it wasn't.

The fucking barn guy shot me in the face with a gun because he thought I slept with his daughter's son.

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Credited to Ya-Dikobraz 

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