Friday, 20 December 2013


I know it's late, I know I'm rubbish and real life got in the way, but that's no excuse so... one of my Christmas presents to you is Marshall's Park #8, Monty's Trick or Treat. You can download it FREE at ARe HERE... Marshall's Park #9 will follow in the next few days... also free!

Everyone has been the victim of Chris' pranks in the run-up to Halloween, and he doesn't appear to be in a hurry to stop. Despite almost getting one of the park's employees fired.

Finn decides Chris needs to be taught a lesson and what better way than to give him a taste of his own medicine? With a little help from his friends, he sets about organizing the prank to end all pranks - on an epic scale - using Chris' biggest fear against him!


Finn danced around on stage, hopping from one foot to the other and shaking his ass like a meerkat possessed. The kids laughed loudly and screamed at the top of their voices at his antics. Finn grimaced as he shimmied again. He wondered how hilarious they'd find it if they knew the reason for his over exuberance was the fact that he felt as though he had a million fire ants crawling over his skin—and it didn't take a genius to figure out why!

There were still two days left before Halloween and Chris had started his annual spate of pranks three days ago. Finn and the rest of the park had had just about enough. It had started with small stuff—classics if you will. Such as cling film on the toilet in the locker room. One leg of Finn's pants sewn up so he couldn't get them on. Fake calls for people over the announcement system and, of course, the buzzer in the hand and whoopee cushions on the roller coaster.

But then he got cocky. Alfie, the hot dog vendor had been taken down a strip or two by his supervisor when the ketchup had been replaced with hot sauce. Katie had spent her entire morning cleaning up the fake blood that had been sprayed all around the medical room. Not to mention the hideous stench in the haunted house, which turned out to be a decomposing trout being held tightly by the vampire in the bed. It had taken Max, the ride operator, two days to find it and another to get rid of the smell.

Now itching powder in his Monty suit? Finn tried to do his final soft paw shuffle without screaming, and then practically fell through the curtain in his haste to get off. This was the last straw. He burst into the locker room to find Chris curled into the fetal position, arms wrapped around his waist as he rocked back and forth at his own hilarity. How he managed to wait until the heavy door had closed behind him before he spoke, Finn would never know; but as soon as it did he let out a stream of profanity that would make Aunt Patti proud.

"Get me out of this, you asshole!"

"Not until you promise not to hurt me," Chris said, holding up his hands in surrender.

"Hurt you?" Finn shouted so his voice wasn't muffled by the head he wore. "I’m not gonna hurt you. I'm gonna fuckin' kill you!"

"Come on, man," Chris laughed. "Where's your sense of humor? It's Halloween!"

"Not for two days you dipshit, now get this fucking thing off me!"

It took a lot longer to get Finn out of the suit than usual, mostly because Chris was laughing too hard to be of much use. But he eventually stood beneath the warm spray of the shower, scrubbing at his skin with soap in itching places he didn't even know he had places that could itch. He picked up the shampoo bottle and hesitated before he poured some into his palm. Could he trust that Chris wouldn't be stupid enough not to have doctored the bottle? He put the bottle back on the shelf. He wasn't that stupid. Soap would do until he got home. Finn sighed heavily. Chris needed to be taught a lesson. Unfortunately, Chris was so thick-skinned, it would have to be a lesson of mammoth proportions.

What the hell could he do? Killing him would be illegal, albeit extremely satisfying. If he only had himself to think about, he might consider it, but he doubted Aiden would be all that impressed if he was doing twenty-five to life in California State. Finn shook his head against the thought. No, he refused to sink to Chris' level. He'd threaten him with bodily harm and wait it out. Two days. Two little days and it would be over. He'd come out the bigger person, his dignity intact.

Finn didn't notice the change in water pressure until it was too late to get out of the way of the suddenly freezing cold water. He squealed like a scalded cat and pressed his body against the tiles behind him—then squealed again as the cold ceramic touched his skin. "Chris!"

Fuck being the bigger person. Fuck taking the mature approach. And fuck Chris Rawlins—he was going down.

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