Friday The Farteenth
Written by Ben Dover
Based On Characters Created by Steve Cunningham and Victor Miller
...If you fart on Friday the 13th, you'll be dead by Saturday the 14th!
Chapter 1:
Chapter Number One
It was Thursday the 12th, and Wanda Dykes was at McDonald's waiting impatiently for her order to arrive. Wanda was a black, middle-aged lady with short brown hair. She was wearing a pink jumpsuit.
"Am I gonna have to go back there and cook my own damn food? I thought you bastards were supposed to be fast!" Wanda shouted from in front of the counter.
Wanda turned and faced as the entrance door, as Ellen DeNotsogenerous walked in. Ellen was in her fifties, with short blonde hair. She was not wearing any make-up.
"Well, look what the damn cat dragged in. How are you doing tonight, Ms. DeNotsogenerous?" Wanda asked.
"I'm here, I'm queer, get over it. And how are you doing?" Ellen asked, picking her nose.
"I'd be okay if I didn't have this bad case of gas. I've been farting like a Mexican all night," Wanda said, clutching her stomach.
"Uh, oh. You better not go to Camp Crystal Lake, then," Ellen said, shaking her head.
"And why not, you white lesbian woman?" Wanda asked.
"Because if you fart in Camp Crystal Lake, Jason Voorhees will get you," Ellen said.
"That's just an urban legend," Wanda said, before farting loudly.
"Urban legend, my lesbian behind. And please don't fart around me again. It makes me nervous," Ellen said, pinching her nose to avoid the smell.
"Sorry, Ellen. So you think that Jason is real?" Wanda asked.
"Well, a friend of my brother's wife's uncle said that Jason killed his son's best friend in Camp Crystal Lake right after he farted," Ellen said.
"That's horrible. And I thought it was bad when my husband was murdered right after having sex with his secretary," Wanda said, grimacing.
"That's why I never go to Camp Crystal Lake. I'd probably fart and get killed," Ellen said.
"Oh, don't tell me that you get gas too," Wanda said, looking at Ellen in disbelief.
"Well of course, I do. Why do you think I've had twelve lesbian lovers in the last week? They all leave when they discover that I'm a chronic farter," Ellen said, farting so loudly that everyone in the restaurant gave a dirty look.
"What are ya'll all looking at? Haven't ya'll ever heard a white lesbian woman fart before?" Wanda asked the room.
"Hey, did you get a boob job," Ellen asked, groping Wanda's breasts.
"No, my titties have always been this big," Wanda replied.
"Oh. We should get together sometime," Ellen said.
"Girlfriend, you read my mind," Wanda said, smiling at Ellen.
"I'll call you. Right now, I just wish someone would take my order," Ellen said.
"Girl, don't hold your breath. This place is the pits," Wanda said, shaking her head in dismay.
"Tell me about it. Last time I came here, I ordered a double cheeseburger, and they brought me chicken and waffles," Ellen said.
"You're kidding. Last time, I came here, I ordered chicken and waffles, and they brought me a double cheeseburger. The very nerve of some people!" Wanda said, a look of disgust on her face.
"Well, I guess I'll go. It doesn't look like anyone is ever going to take my order," Ellen said, looking away in disappointment.
"Okay. I'll see your white lesbian ass later," Wanda said.
"Okay, Foxy Lady," Ellen said, turning and leaving the restaurant.
"Jason Voorhees, ha. There is no Jason Voorhees," Wanda said to herself, chuckling.