Laugh much

So, ever read the road? or seen the movie? yea, well i made a much more exciting parody of it. ENJOY! 

The Lane

A Parody

Part I:

The man and the boy

     The man and the boy walked on the lane. They walked, and walked, and walked. Always walking.

They carried with them only a picnic basket.

     In this basket, they had four plastic bags to tie around their feet, a package of rope, a rusty pair of kitchen scissors, and their prized and beloved can of mangoes.

     Walking on the Lane, they understood only one thing. Never eat the mangoes.

     They walked among the ghost towns of the abandoned Coast. Their destination was the North, where there were laws preventing others from stealing another person’s mangoes. (They had a high respect for mangoes in the North, you see.) Along the way, they constantly looked for ways to protect the mangoes. Often, they would have to fend off people and animals who tried to steal their highly coveted mangoes.

     On one such occasion, things got severe. As they were walking, they found an abandoned barn. The man thought this was a great place to protect the mangoes for a while while they rested, for every few minutes, the boy had a new complaint. So they went inside. 

     The man looked around. There was a noise from behind a hay bale.

     “What was that?” the boy whimpered, “Maybe we should leave!”         “ We have to find a place to protect the food.”

     “Ok.”

     “Ok.”

     The man looked behind the bale and could not believe what he saw.

     Behind the bale lay  a ferocious looking German Sheppard. It let out a guttural snarl.

     “Oh! Can we keep it? Please!” the boy was practically jumping up and down with excitement.

     Before the man could say no, the dog stopped snarling and wagged its tale playfully.

     “Ah! Man eating dog!” the man and boy both let out effeminate squeals of terror as they ran frantically towards the door. They slammed the doors and bolted it shut.

     They ran until they were once again on the lane. The man stopped to check their progress. They kept walking. The man just knew that they were mere days from starvation. As they came across a mound, the man thought he felt something crunch underneath his foot.

     It was a bag of cheetos. The man picked it up. He gave it to 

 the boy to eat. They kept walking.

     After night had fallen, they had stopped to sleep. As they lay there, the boy cried.

     “I’m really hungry. I’m cold. I wish I was with my mother,” the boy sulked the long string of complaints.

     The dad sighed. The boy did this frequently. He tried to quiet the boy, but he wasn’t having it. The boy stood up, stomped his foot, and demanded to know why they were suffering. The man had no answer.

     Some time later, they were walking yet again, they saw a shadow in the distance. They cautiously crept closer. They realized it was a man.

     “Give me all yo food! I said ‘Give. Me. All. Yo. Food’” the stranger demanded.

     “B-b-b-but we aren’t supposed to eat the food” the boy stuttered.

     “Now!” the stranger hissed. He raised his hands and reached towards them. He morphed into a creature that was more demon than man. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a dagger.

     Dude, the man drawled, you look like that rosta guy from Twilight!

     The stranger gave him a quizzical look.

     Whoa! You’re right! the boy gasped. Can we help him? Can we keep him? he begged.

     Then the man asked for his autograph.

     The stranger turned and ran.

Part II:
Ms.
Gertrude
Dubois 

     Ms Gertrude Dubois was the neighborhood busybody. If anyone ever knew anything about anyone, it was Ms Gertrude. Her favorite pastimes consisted of watching the innocent residents of Grey Lane walk by on the street through her front window and diagnose them with an array of psychological disorders (she was a psychologist in her much younger years).

     As she was people watching one day, she saw the man and the boy walking down Grey Lane. They appeared to be talking and pointing. Curious, Ms Gertrude looked up the street. There was nothing.

     “Well I declare!” Ms Gertrude exclaimed. She looked back at the man and the boy. She wondered what was the matter with them. Then it hit her.

     “Why they might be schizophrenic! I gotta do something! I gotta call somebody!” She picked up the phone. “The FBI? No. The CIA? No, that’s not it. Ms Crawford? The mayor? Betty White? No, no, those won’t do either. Think, Gertrude.” She tapped her foot and thought some more. “I got it!” She dialed a familiar number.

“Hello, GLPD? Yes, this is Gertrude. I have an emergency!” she paused, “No, the spook isn’t back. Yes, I do. I’m telling you I heard a noise in my attic. No, Mrs. Cartwright isn’t baking another poisonous omelet for Mr. Cartwright. Hey, there was something highly suspect about that ingredient. Yes, this is an emergency! I’d like to report two schizophrenic males walking down the lane. They’re menaces to society. I am not schizophrenic! Why I never-” she broke off. “Well good day to you officer. “ She slammed the phone down. 

“Well if they aren’t going to do something about it, then I will.”

Ms. Gertrude opened the door and walked to confront the two schizophrenics.

She soon stood in front of them. “Why you ought to be ashamed of yourselves!” she wagged her bony finger at them.

“Cannibal!” they screamed in unison, running for what they believed was their lives.

“Why I ain’t no disgustin’ man eater! Get back here you good for nothing looney bums!” she grabbed the hems of her skirt and chased after them. When she nearly caught them, she delivered a big whack to the man’s head with her walking stick.

      “And you’re calling us crazy.” the man said in disbelief.

     “Why does everyone always think I’m crazy?” Ms Gertrude muttered.

     Despite the injury, both he and the boy managed to keep running and escape Ms Gertrude. As they were fleeing, the picnic basket that they had managed to keep fumbled from the man’s hands. Their precious can of mangoes fell out. Gertrude continued to, as she would say, “run them plum clean out of Grey Lane.”

     It was as they were almost out of Ms Gertrude’s sight that she noticed the fallen goods. She picked it up.

She ate the mangoes. The boy’s cry of despair as he looked back towards the tragedy was carried by the breeze that whispered through the lane.