The Road Worrier

The Road Worrier

A Story by J. R.

A thrilling post-apocalyptic tale...about worrying

Life was never the same again after the bombs dropped. The United States was turned into something remarkably similar to the Australian Outback, violent punks and leather fetishists terrorized the remaining outposts of civilization, resources such as petroleum and clothing that wasn't made out of black leather were scarce. It was all very worrisome, really.
 This is the tale of one man making a stand for justice, order, and the freedom to not get shot in the face in this most worrisome world. This man was never given a name, to fit the obligatory requirement that all wandering heroes be as mysterious as possible. Instead, he was known simply as The Road Worrier.
It was a hot, dry, depressing day much like any other. He and his trusty dog,who was given the name "Cat" because the Road Worrier loved a good ironic joke, were driving down the wasteland in a beat up police car, his trusty sawed-off double barrel shotgun was ready at his side, you never knew when some lunatic biker would try to rob you with a shiv he made out of a carrot, a jockstrap and a broken bit of aluminum siding. He didn't want to fire it, namely because the recoil was very painful, and would be more worrisome in the middle of an armed exchange, he was hoping he could instead just sneak up on some thug and steal a hunting rifle or possibly a nice pistol, since the shotgun had rubbish range and really wasn't a very practical weapon, it sure looked bad-a*s when he fired it with one hand, however, even when the only time he did so, he dislocated his shoulder and spent an hour rolling on the ground in pain yelling obscenities and cursing every god and goddess he was aware of.
Suddenly he heard a commotion behind him, he rolled down the window of his car and looked behind him, which was something of a futile gesture since all the windows of his car had been smashed by a stereotypical homosexual biker who also attempted to sodomize him with a lead pipe, which made him wonder if the director was homophobic.
Behind his car were a gang of bikers, and they sure looked pissed.
He loaded shells into both barrels, his finger on the trigger, sweat was streaming down his face. He was never more worried in his life.
Suddenly his car drifted to a halt, he had run out of gas! In a blind panic, he quickly got out of the car and fired both barrels at the fast approaching swarm of bikers.
He watched as the pellets uselessly dispersed in front of him, the bikers were still too far away for the shotgun to do any good. 
The Road Worrier knew what he had to do....
He ran away screaming and and flailing his arms through the wastes, he ran for what seemed like hours. After a while, he was dehydrated and exhausted, and the front of his pants were for some odd reason very moist and that surely didn't smell like sweat.
He slumped to the ground like a half empty sack of potatoes. Waiting to either die or be killed, or miraculously survive to star in another sequel.
The bikers had now caught up and were standing over him.
"This is it." He said to himself, "I'm going to die."
"Why are you talking to yourself?" said one of the bikers.
"I was having an inner monologue. Every protagonist gets an inner monologue when things get dramatic." he said. "Aren't know, going to kill me or rob me or something?"
"Of course not!" Said one of the bikers, outraged.
"We were just chasing your car for our amusement, It was damn funny seeing you flip the f**k out and run away, though."
One of the bikers paused and studied him a little closer.
"Did anyone tell you that you look a lot like a young Mel Gibson?"
The biker said.
"Really? I do?" Said the Road Worrier, flattered.
"Yeah, a spitting image of Mel! Come on, we'll take you to the next town."
And so everything turned out alright, and the Road Worrier went on to appear in another sequel about the descendants of plane crash survivors or something like that.

© 2010 J. R.

My Review

Would you like to review this Story?
Login | Register


This was a very entertaining read. Your insights were as witty as they were cleverly written.


Posted 10 Years Ago

0 of 1 people found this review constructive.

This is so AWESOME!

Posted 10 Years Ago

Reminds me of me writing. Leather AND hairgel. The armegedon is always filled with hair-care products.

Posted 10 Years Ago

Request Read Request
Add to Library My Library
Subscribe Subscribe


3 Reviews
Added on November 30, 2010
Last Updated on November 30, 2010
Tags: post, apocalyptic, tale, worry, road, worrier, parody, lets, play, soggy, biscuit, dave


J. R.
J. R.

I am an aspiring writer who is interested in improving as a writer and getting my work out to the world. . more..


Related Writing

People who liked this story also liked..

For Mom For Mom

A Poem by Jaydeskye