"Poor Ronnie" | ClancyPasta PRESENTS

[00:00:00] ClancyPasta PRESENTS, Poor Ronnie by Dead Grandpa and you're listening to ClancyPasta. We all had different names for him. Lon called him the Hitcher, Chucky called him Roadkill Ron, I called him Poor Ronnie, like my dad always did.

[00:00:39] It was the middle of the night, so of course it was dark, but that night it was pitch blackout. He couldn't see a foot in front of him, couldn't tell he was walking in the middle of the road. Unfortunately, he wasn't the only person out there that night. A group of teenagers were joyriding, their headlights turned off for the thrill of it.

[00:01:05] He never saw them coming. His body was found the next morning, splattered all over the pavement. No one ever found those kids, and no one ever came forward. People forgot all about it before long, but poor Ronnie, nothing but a stain on the asphalt, he still remembers.

[00:01:31] If you're out by the Fort Gibson Dam past midnight, pull over at the first sharp curve sign. Shut your car off for 60 seconds. You might see him there when you start it back up. Walking down the road in the dark, his thumb held high like he's waiting for a ride. At least, that's how the story goes.

[00:01:59] As many times as I heard it told, and as many times as I told it myself, I had never heard anyone say that they had gone out there to do it themselves. Which made sense, given that we were kids. By the time we were old enough, we had outgrown it. That's the nature of these things. I mean, when was the last time you seriously thought about Bloody Mary, or the Hook Man? They were just dumb stories that freak you out.

[00:02:29] Nothing more. Right? What were we supposed to think would happen? We were in Chucky's garage, lazily passing a bowl back and forth. Some slasher flick from the 80s played out on the screen, but none of us were watching through the haze of smoke in the air. Mad!

[00:02:56] Chucky sputtered through a chest full of smoke. Halloween is almost here! Lon nodded from his sagging beanbag throne. Yeah, I said. Halloween used to be this big thing. Now, it's like... I shrugged and trailed off, struggling to keep up with my train of thought. Chucky nodded emphatically. Right? There's no spirit anymore!

[00:03:26] It just comes and goes. Lon piped up then, ripping the bong from Chucky's hand before he could torch the last of the bowl. The fuck are you guys talking about? October is the same length as ever. But the spirit of it, Lonnie. He scoffed. We could drive to Tulsa and hit up Spirit Halloween any day. That's not the vibe we're talking about though, I said.

[00:03:53] I mean the actual feeling, like... Telling scary stories in the dark. Like Roadkill Rod? There was a glint in Chucky's bloodshot eyes. Don't start with that bullshit. Lon groaned. Oh, are you scared, Lonnie? Chucky laughed. Fuck no. Lon stood, his curly red hair bobbing with a sudden movement.

[00:04:22] I'm not scared of some dumbass story. Then let's go do it. Chucky smirked. All right, I said, grabbing my dad's keys off the table. Let's do it. Half an hour later, we were driving over the Fort Gibson Dam, past the bait store, and into the woods.

[00:04:52] There was a giddy tension in the car, even coming from Lon, as much as he tried to hide it. Here! Chucky exclaimed from the back seat. That's the sign! I pulled over and set the parking brake. Are you guys ready? Chucky nodded enthusiastically. Lon stared at the tunnel of trees ahead. Lon?

[00:05:23] He nodded. All right. Poor Ronnie. I whispered, shakily. Need a... Ride. I turned the key, and we were plunged into darkness. Chucky was practically squealing. My heart pounded like a jackhammer.

[00:05:52] Ten seconds passed. Twenty. That's enough. Lon's voice cracked beside me. Thirty seconds. Chucky counted under his breath, stifling nervous giggles. Forty seconds. Dude, that's enough. Fifty. That awful tension building.

[00:06:21] My hands tingling as I gripped the wheel. I tried to tell Lon to hold on, but... I couldn't speak. Sixty seconds! Chucky hollered. I gasped and turned the key in the ignition. Nothing happened. I turned it again and heard a series of clicks. Lon punched me on the shoulder.

[00:06:50] I said that's enough! I'm trying. One more twist, and finally, the engine turned over. The dome light switched on, and we looked out the windshield with bated breath. Nothing was there. Lon chuckled weakly. I told y'all that shit was made up. Right.

[00:07:20] I rolled my eyes and clicked the dome light off. That's when Chucky started screaming. We whipped around to him in confusion and saw his eyes, wide with terror and the soft green light of the radio. He was staring at Lon. I looked over and was frozen by what I saw behind him.

[00:07:51] What the fuck is up with y'all? The window exploded in a shower of granular shards and a pair of hands wrapped around Lon's throat. He choked as they yanked him against the door. Chucky leapt forward and pulled on Lon's sweater. His wild scream spurred me to action. Fucking drive! I slammed my foot on the gas pedal, but the rear tires just fishtailed back and forth.

[00:08:21] The parking brake was still set. Lon grasped at me as Chucky and the attacker played tug-of-war over his helpless body. I couldn't move, couldn't look away. I don't think I'll ever come to terms with what I saw on the other side of that broken window. A mingled face stared back, half flattened and speckled with long, dried blood.

[00:08:48] A single bloodshot eye bulged out to the side, fixed on mine. It opened its broken, toothless mouth and spilled the rot that had been pooling there down its ruined chin. Room for one more. What do sirs do for naught to quit? Baru. Baru. Baru. Bui. Thank you.