This is a flash tale about best friends forever.
It had been ten years since their last reunion, and twenty since they had graduated from college together.
Their lives had gone in different directions and many different places, but no matter what happened the ten of them would always be best friends. They named their club, The Ten Little Devils, the perfect name considering all their escapades and hilarious pranks.
There was a heart surgeon, attorney, entrepreneur, actress, and so on.
All except one had successful high paying careers. Daryl was a high school janitor. Ironically, he was the smartest, but was always an underachiever.
Being a big shot never appealed to him. The others nicknamed him Nerdy Turdy.
Daryl didn't like it, but he accepted it. Daryl was in actuality, the club mascot.
For this reunion they rented an old farmhouse in the beautiful Connecticut countryside. It was a picturesque setting for their week of fun and frolic.
Of course, talking about the old days consumed most of their time. By midnight everyday, they were all shit faced drunk. All except Daryl.
He never drank alcohol, smoked pot or popped pills.
Daryl never did anything wrong. He just went along for the wild ride as their designated driver. Mostly, he was an observer.
To this day he had never married, and only once had a girlfriend. Even that was a platonic relationship.
Daryl, it was sad to say, was still a virgin at forty two.
In college, many times, he was the brunt of their jokes.
It was all in good fun. They knew Daryl didn't mind.
He was just happy to be part of such a neat club, and have such cool friends.
Daryl knew he was their nerd turd mascot, and designated driver. There was not a cool bone in his body.
Did it upset him when they pulled their dirty pranks on him, and then laugh about it. Yes.
Did he ever get upset with them. Never. Daryl was Daryl.
The days went by too fast.
They were having so much fun.
Even Daryl seemed to be enjoying himself.
He rarely talked, but he loved listening to their stories.
From time to time they would tell a Daryl story, which usually entailed a prank on him. They all laughed, all except Daryl.
Did he mention his disapproval. No.
Daryl was being Daryl.
All the friends knew that all of the pranks were done in good fun, never any harm intended.
Daryl was a nerd, but he was their nerd, and each of them loved him, in their own separate ways.
When night six arrived they agreed to a suggestion by, surprisingly, Daryl. They all looked at each other in disbelief when he spoke up and suggested a fun thing to do on their final night together.
Each of them would tell the worst thing they had ever done in their lives, no matter how bad it was. They all instantly approved. It would be awesome.
Daryl requested that he go last. It was agreed, Daryl would tell his story last.
Dorothy laughed. “I'm sure Daryl will have a deliciously nasty story to tell us. We all know what a naughty boy he is.” They all roared with laughter. All except Daryl.
On their final night, after a delicious gourmet meal prepared solely by Daryl, they all went into the large living room and sat near the fireplace, getting warm and cozy. One by one they told their secrets. Some were bad and a few were gruesome. One was terrifying. A prison worthy offence, no less. Good thing he was never caught.
Finally, it was Daryl's turn.
To their pleasant surprise, he wanted to make a toast before he told his story. They thought it was a wonderful gesture by their little nerdy turd.
He filled their wine glasses, being the dutiful mascot as always.
“I just want to let you all know how much I love you. It was good of you to let a nerd like me join your cool club. May we be friends forever."
They all clinked their glasses, and drank their wine. Teetotaller Daryl drank ginger ale.
“So tell us your big bad deed. I’m sure it will be a shocker,” said Stephen the heart surgeon. The room filled with laughter.
“Well…. I spi…,” He hesitated.
“Daryl, speak up. We can't hear you. Are you afraid to tell us?” Again they laughed.
Daryl raised his voice, so everyone could hear him.
“I said, I spiked the wine with poison. You'll all soon be dead.” Sally smirked. “Don't act stupid Nerdy Turdy. What did you really do that was so bad?”
Daryl stood up. “By the way, you morons. I hate all of you cocksuking fukfaces. Good riddance y'all tiny pricks, and dangly twats.” He darted quickie glances, first at the bug-eyed men, and then the jaws dropped bitches. Eat my shit motherfuckers! Ha!”
He turned around and walked out of the room.
They tried to get up, but it was no use. The poison had taken effect. They were dizzy and nauseous. As he walked out the front door, Daryl could hear them screaming his name. This was the happiest night of his life.
“Payback is a b*tch!” He yelled up at the starlit sky.
🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓
