There was a storm that knocked out the power in my neighborhood. My friends Kassen, Nick, and Jessica were at my house when the lights went out. So, we decided to tell scary stories. We light some candles and when it was my turn, this was what I told them:
In a very small town, there was a restaurant that was well known by the people of the town. Everyone in the town also knew how greedy the owner was. So, they weren't surprised when, one tragic - "Kassen what night is it?" I stated flatly. "Tuesday." She uttered unsure of herself. - Tuesday night it happened.
The only fry-cook who worked in the restaurant was named James. Now by this particular night James' boss, Eugene, suspected that he had been taking money from the cash register. Earlier from the far corner of the room, where a bulb had blown and Eugene had been to cheap to replace it, his boss watched. He watched James cautiously take money out of the cash register. As it got dark they were about to close. James was in the kitchen cutting patties for the next day when, Eugene came in.
"I saw what you take my money earlier." he said angrily as he approached his fry-cook. James looked up from his patties in horror. he new he was going to be fired; he might even go to jail for it. However none of that actually happened.
"Do you know what happened next, Nick?" I asked in a creepy shook his head so, I continued the story.
Eugene snatched away the knife that he had been using, and chopped his hand clean off! James then, ran outside and was hit by a bus; he died as soon as it hit him! When the investigators came Eugene told them James hadn't been paying attention when he was cutting the patties and ran off in fright. The people of the town suspected that it hadn't been an accident, but no one said a thing. At the funeral he fired James and left the rusty spatula that, James used to use. As you may have guessed, James' spirit was restless because of, how he died. And so, his ghost raised up out of his grave and grabbed the spatula that Eugene had left. Then, he jabbed it into the area where his left hand once belonged.
Now every Tuesday night, he returns. There are only three signs that he's coming. First, the lights will flicker on and off. Next, the phone will ring, and there will be nobody there. And lastly, the ghost of the bus that, ran him over, appears to let him off. He will exit the bus and cross the street without looking both ways because, he's already dead! Then he'll step up to the window, and tap on it with his grizzly spatula hand.
"He then, opens the door and approaches the counter, and do you know what he does next, Jessica? - she shook her head in a confused fashion - THE WALLS WILL OOSE GREEN SLIME?!Wait, they always do that. Actually,HE GETS YOU!"