Fan Fiction Writing Contest - Winner
HIS NAME IS EARL
"Fucking hate this place! Shit."
"This sucks, man!"
After five minutes of this, Joel left his room and hurried downstairs to investigate. He found Earl sprawled upside-down in the armchair, holding what looked like a bunch of feathers in his left hand and staring at the ceiling. Looking up, he saw three darts embedded firmly in the plaster.
Earl was aiming a fourth one when Joel exploded. "Earl! What the fuck!" He snatched the remaining darts out of Earl's fist and tossed them on the mantle. "What are you on? Those could fall down and stick someone!"
Earl slid to the floor and mumbled something that sounded like “So what? We need a little entertainment.” Cursing under his breath, Joel dragged a chair away from the card table, stepped onto it, and pulled the darts out of the ceiling, hoping that his mother wouldn’t spot the holes. She hadn’t yet forgiven Earl for planting weed in the same garden that held her prize roses last summer and killing both the flowers and her reputation with the neighbors.
"We've been stuck inside for two fucking days because of the snowstorm," Earl complained. "I’m going apeshit. No offense, old man, but I should never have come up here with you, March break or not. Now we’re trapped until the
Joel rolled his eyes. "You poor baby," he grumbled. "Back home, people are literally freezing to death on the street,
Earl brightened. "Do you think they would?"
Joel was about to reply when he stepped off the chair and brought his foot down on a dart that Earl had either dropped or not thrown firmly enough to make it stick. Lucky for both of them, the point was not facing up. Joel swore, tossed it onto the mantle with the others, and pulled Earl up off the floor.
"Put on your coat," he ordered. "You want to go out? Fine- we'll go out."
“The rec centre. It’s about a mile from here and we can take the snowmobile. I was just listening to the radio, and it
Earl lit up. Surely someone there had some cigarettes or weed they’d be willing to part with. Within five minutes, he
"You didn't tell me this is what we'd be doing," Earl complained. He and Joel were stationed at a supply table, putting together care packages consisting of clothing, blankets, toys, and non-perishable food. Sara, who had assigned them there, frowned.
"Doesn't it feel good to do something for someone besides yourself?" she asked.
"No," Earl said. "Charity blows. You’ve read the Bible- God helps those who help themselves."
Sara glared at him before turning to Joel. "I’m volunteering at the first aid center. I'll see you around."
"I won’t be here for long," Earl grumbled. She shook her head at him and left.
Joel lifted an eyebrow. "I wouldn't try wandering out in the blizzard alone," he smirked. "Your hand might get cold
Earl gave him the finger, ignoring a group of children who had stopped to listen to their exchange. “You’re mean,”
“Yes,” he said, “I’m definitely a bad boy. Your mom knows it too.”
Joel elbowed him and tossed a Nerf ball from the toy pile to the kids. When they scurried off with it, he glared at Earl. “Watch it, Mr. Congeniality,” he warned. “There are cops around. As well as parents who do bad things to guys who
Earl shut up, but his displeasure remained obvious. He ripped open bulging donation bags with his bare hands and hurled their contents into plastic bins for later sorting. For awhile he’d been using scissors, but Joel confiscated
After an hour, Joel paused. “I’m going to the canteen for a cuppa Joe. Want anything?”
“Yeah. I want to be airlifted back into town.”
“Sure, Mr. President, right away. Whatever, Earl. Your attitude sucks. I’ll be back.”
As soon as Joel was out of sight, Earl picked up the scissors again. He was about to stab a bag of stuffed animals when someone called out to him.
“Earl? I didn’t know you were up here! And helping the Red Cross? Did you get sentenced to community service?”
Cindy Marshall approached. She was a perky blonde with a compact body, the type who belonged on television
“Hey, Cindy.” Earl lowered the bag but kept his grip on the scissors. The Smurfs and stuffed elephants could die
“Definitely. So this is the care package station.” She chewed her lip as she surveyed everything. “Are you alone here?”
“For now. Joel’s gone to the men’s room. He took a magazine with him- think it was PLAYGIRL- so he won’t be back soon.”
“I see,” she smirked. “I guess you’re it for the time being. Would you mind doing an interview?”
Earl hesitated. “Interview? Me?”
“Sure. I’ll just ask you about why you’re doing this, and you can share some tips for staying warm, if you have any.
He grinned. “I think I can manage that.”
"Hello. My name is Earl, and I'm with the local Red Cross Storm Relief Effort. I'd like to talk to you about staying safe during this weather travesty that's probably going to kill all of you. I will survive, of course, because I am not a retard
"Cut," said Cindy. “Earl, did anyone ever tell you that you’re a little tall for a five year old?”
An hour later, Joel and Earl were in the coatroom, donning their coats and scarves. "So, all bullshit aside, how did
Earl smirked. "I got to be on TV."
"Really?" Joel said, impressed. "Did they interview you or something?"
"Yup. I let the entire county know my opinion."
"Oh God. Do I want to know?"
“I think you already do. Come on, let’s go.”