Written for suburbs 3rdchallenge. An interesting challenge for sure. "The idea of this challenge is to write a story inspired by the single word." I chose #4- Spork.

Disclaimer: I own nothing- in fact I don't even own a Spork at the moment.


Sporks&Danger

By From the End of Heaven


Joe hated sporks.

They were so random and indecisive. Sporks were utensils with an identity crisis.

He would claim that he didn't know what caused this intense hatred of the item, explaining that he felt this way since he learnt the difference between spoons and forks.

Joe could just see his adorable yet confused face as his mother showed him a spork- tears welling up in his eyes. He was the cutest baby out of all his brothers.

The real reason may have been because of a campout he, his dad and Kevin went on when he was 5. His mom had packed them plastic sporks- of course she didn't care because she was staying home with Nick. She insisted that three of them go- pushing them out the door, after she finished packing for them.

Joe had enjoyed camping before this disastrous event. The tents, stars, cooking hot dogs on a stick, roasting marshmallows', watching his Dad get mad at the smoke from the fire (that always seemed to follow him) going on adventures with Kevin in search of a hedgehog. It was a good time.

That first night Joe didn't notice that he was eating with a spork- he stabbed his tongue. He must've stabbed it pretty well because his Dad freaked out and drove him to the nearest hospital. The doctors told him he was fine, the wounds were shallow, and sent him on his way- cautioning him to eat slowly and carefully, and liquids for a few days.

13 Years later his Mom convinced them to go on another camping trip. Reminding them that camping was one of the best ways to keep it real. (She may have also alluded that they were becoming big pansies with all their hair product and ridiculously tight pants and mumbled loudly enough that she thought they wouldn't last a week out in the wilderness)

Joe agreed to it partly because where better to go to get away from screaming fans and paparazzi? (Also to prove to his mom that he was not a pansy) A week alone in the wilderness sounded like just the thing for someone nicknamed Danger. Well not completely alone, his dad, Kevin, Nick and Frankie- not to mention the GPS lady.

Joe had pretty much forgotten (or subconsciously blocked out) his unfortunate encounter with sporks and camping. At least he did until Nick asked him to get the utensils from the car. Joe searched through the tub labeled "Camping Kitchen" and found a bag full of knives and another with sporks. Memories and hatred came flooding back. Joe growled and threw all the sporks to the dirt. He pounced on them, crushing them- reveling in his victory yelling unintelligible cries of triumph, till he caught sight of Nick standing staring at him.

"You done wiping out the enemy Danger?" Nick drawled.

Joe arms fell weakly at his sides "They're sporks." Joe spat the last word.

Nick shook his head. "What are we going to eat with now Danger?"

Joe looked to the other bag in his hands "We have knives."


weird right? How can someone stab themselves with a spork? Well it's a true story- I was at girls camp when a fellow camper somehow managed it.