What Would Be The Scariest Thing?

The dust of the hot afternoon dances in the late day sunlight that is pouring into the office. I can hear my kids outdoors, screaming in joyful delight as they zig-zag across the yard playing tag. It is a hot summer day again and again I find myself stuck. I lean back in my chair stretching my under used muscles. My back cricks and crackles as a yawn takes over my body as if to say easy buddy, I'll take it from here.

I am stuck. Writers block. I just stare at the page as if something will just magically appear from the page. I look back out the window for inspiration. I am hoping the clouds will form and shuffle into what I am looking for but alas, the sky only stares back with blue and a big ball of orange. After a few minutes my eyes hurt.

I spin in my chair and look around the room. Maybe something is here that I have missed before? Something in here will help, I know it will. I stare and examine every last corner. I see a picture of a lion. A lion makes sense. A lion would be perfect. But I have already made one of the main characters a lion and he is a good and warm creature. It wouldn't make sense to have the witches henchmen be lions as well. Why did it have to be a cowardly lion in the forest? Dammit! Well it is too late to change it now.

Ok, what else?

Maybe the witch can have dinosaurs? They could stomp from the fortress and destroy everything in their path. That may work. But then how would they carry Dorothy back, and her ruby slippers? It is not like the dinosaur could carry her back in its mouth. That won't work.

I stumble up from my chair and start to pace around my room. I hold my chin and twist 180 degrees after every five steps. I need something that is scary but smart, but not smart enough that they are unbeatable. I need something you can find in bulk but maybe freak it up a bit like the witch has done some good science on them. My stomach growls.

I walk down the stairs and into the kitchen. My wife is busy making cookies and hardly moves as I enter the room. "Still having trouble Frank?", she chirps from a pile of dough.

"Yeah, I just cannot find something to help the witch."

"What about my idea?"

"Flying Dogs?"

"Yeah, they can be vicious and obedient."

"That is true but it just doesn't seem right. I need something that is a little more naturally evil."

"Well, take a cookie and go for a walk. See if you can't work something out."

I pick up the still warm cookie and head outside. The heat of the afternoon is drifting away as I step out towards the sidewalk. I start off down the street and put my hands in my pockets. Something will come to me, I know it.

As I walk into town I notice a small group of people huddled around the town square. I can hear the light rustle of laughter and the quiet song of a music box. My curiosity is driving me toward the crowd. About 2 dozen people are swarming around and I sneak my way to a visible corner looking into the town square. In the middle is a short man wearing a black suit and brown derby. He is hunched over cranking the handle on a music box. To the right of him I see the most frightening thing I have ever seen.

A rope attached to the man's hand stretches down to a collar. Sitting there waving to the crowd, bouncing to the musician is a monkey. It was a hideous thing wearing a fez and a red vest. Its ragged smile flashing to the faces in the crowd. I can feel my stomach turn with anxiety and fear. What if that monkey got loose? What if the man lost control of the beast? It could easily kill a dozen people before the best men in town could bring it down. My mind reels out of control. I have to save these people, I have to save my town, I have to save humanity.

I walk into the square and the people stay focused on the monkey. The monkey pays no attention to me and the tired old man cranking the music box nods his head toward me. He thinks I am going to throw in a quarter to his donation box. I walk closer to the monkey and the hairy monster stops dancing and looks to me, curious, confused, but I can see the rage inside him.

The monkey and the man are both staring at me, waiting, wanting, and I stand still in front of the monkey. I reach back into the top of my pants and I know what I am doing. I know that I am doing everyone a service and in a moment everyone will be chanting my name. It is at that moment that I pull out a pistol and shot the monkey in the face. That damn dirty ape. Just imagine how much scarier he would have been had he learned to fly. Wait, that is the perfect henchmen for a witch. That is the last thing I remember before the crowd closed in and beat the living hell out of me.