Stranger Than Fanfiction(56)



The host’s defamatory rant was replaced with a commercial for the local county fair. The others were ready to defend Cash’s honor, but the actor never gave them any indication he wanted them to.

“Those are some strong opinions about a guy he’s never met,” Cash said.

“Gotta say I agree with him, though,” the serviceman said. “Privileged little prick. All those Hollywood actors are just alike. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’ll be part of that twenty-seven club.”

Obviously, the serviceman had no idea the privileged little prick was sitting right next to him.

“I think you’re giving him too much credit,” Cash said. “He’ll be long gone by then.”

The actor dug through his backpack and took three white pills from a prescription bottle inside. He looked out the window and was silent for the rest of the drive.

After an hour of nothing but open fields outside their windows, the tow truck finally pulled into a small gas station. Cash insisted on paying for the towing expenses and a new tank of gas since it was his fault they were in the predicament. The station’s pumps were outdated so he had to go inside to use his credit card. Joey had had to use the restroom for the past twenty miles, so he followed Cash to get the key to the station’s bathroom. Along the way, he came to a halt when something disturbing caught his eye.

“What is it?” Cash asked.

Joey nodded to a large Confederate flag displayed in the gas station’s window. All his father’s advice about avoiding trouble rushed to the forefront of his mind.

“I shouldn’t go in there,” he said. “I’ll just wait until our next stop.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Cash said. “The owner’s probably just a big Dukes of Hazzard fan. You’ve got nothing to worry about—I’m with you.”

“Actually, that means I should have more to worry about.”

The actor grabbed the timid teenager by the arm and forced him inside against his will. They approached an old man who was sitting behind the checkout counter reading a newspaper. He wore a cowboy hat and sported a thick mustache that was a few weeks overdue for a trim.

“Good morning, sir,” Cash said. “I’d like to pay for gas on pump number four and my friend needs the key to the bathroom.”

The old man stood to greet him but his entire demeanor changed as soon as he laid eyes on Joey. He stared at him with such disdain Joey felt like an invisible hand was pushing him backward.

“I’ll sell you gas, but your friend is out of luck,” he said. “We don’t serve his kind around here.”

“Why? Because he’s black or because he’s gay?”

“Cash!” Joey said like he was out of his mind. “What the hell?”

“Relax, I’m just joking.” Cash laughed. “And he was, too. Weren’t you, sir? Because only one of those old bigots who give the human race a bad name would say something like that. Right?”

The old man’s hateful scowl extended to both of them and he pointed to the door.

“Get your asses out of here!” he commanded.

“Cash, we need to go back to the car,” Joey said.

“WAIT!” Cash ordered.

As if he were being controlled by Cash through telekinesis, Joey stayed exactly where he was. He had never seen Cash look so angry before. The actor glared at the old man with as much hatred as they were being shown. Joey didn’t know which of them to be more afraid of.

“I don’t know what year you think it is, but it’s 2017 for the rest of us,” Cash said. “What you’re doing is illegal. Unless you change your attitude, I’m calling the police and telling them what’s going on.”

“And you can tell them Johnny at the gas station says hello,” the old man said. “The police and I are like-minded folk, you see. So unless you want to be thrown in jail for a week, I would shut my goddamn mouth. I don’t know who the hell you think you are, boy, but no one gets to come into our town and tell us how to live.”

Cash glanced at the man’s newspaper on the counter. As fate would have it, he saw a picture of himself next to a headline that read Loose Cannon Cash Carter: Actor Loses Consciousness at Concert.

“Actually, you do know who I am,” the actor said, and pointed to the article. “I’m that loose cannon you were just reading about. They could have printed a better picture, but at least it’s a recent one.”

The old man looked back and forth between Cash and the newspaper, like it was some kind of magic trick.

“Since we’re better acquainted now, allow me to put my dick on the table, Johnny,” the actor said. “You might be friends with the local police, but I’m friends with the police of the world—they’re called fangirls, and I’ve got about thirty million of them watching my every move right now. So you’re going to apologize to my friend and then you’re going to give him the key to the bathroom. Because if you don’t, I’m going to tell the fangirls about the treatment we’ve received today and unleash them upon your establishment like a plague of locusts! They’ll harass you, humiliate you, and chase your wrinkled, old, racist ass into hiding for the rest of your miserable existence! Do I make myself clear?”

The old man gulped. He retrieved the bathroom key from underneath the counter and tossed it to Joey.

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