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Creative Writing Club presents: The New Nightmare

Part IV: Pig Latin and pizza

Kirsten Magas and Jesse Isadore

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Zoey walked into the third bathroom stall searching for the elusive Dog God and Squirtle. Through her phone screen she saw a strange message on the stall door: “Orfay allway ouryay ogday odgay eedsnay allcay: 867-5309.”

Acting before she could think, she dialed the number. “Hello? Is there any one there?”

(Barking sounds)

“Dog God, is that you?” Zoey asked, befuddled.

“Esyay, ymay ildchay, owhay ancay iway elphay ouyay?”

“Is that Pig Latin?” Zoey asked, flummoxed.

“Yas,” he replied, sipping an iced caramel macchiato from Starbucks.

“Okay? Well, Zeke sent me here to train and save the world and stuff, so what’s the deal, mate?”

“Owhay omecay onay oneway everway allscay ustjay otay aysay ihay otay Ogday Odgay? Everyoneway alwaysway antsway otay avesay ethay orldway onay oneway everway ustjay asksway owhay ymay aysday eenbay orway owhay iway eelfay.”

Zoey, baffled and frustrated by the strange and not American language she was hearing, spoke out against his holiness. “Listen, buddy. I don’t have time to become bilingual today. What are you trying to say?”

Before Dog God could respond, Zoey heard the lock on the door to the stall next to her click open. Ugg boots, similar to the ones Zoey’s roommate left wearing this morning, shuffled towards the sinks. To be absolutely sure that it was her, Zoey stepped onto the toilet seat to lock eyes with just the person she suspected over the stall door.

“Hey, roomie?” Zoey said, bewildered. Her roommate rolled her eyes and left the bathroom. This was nothing new. She already thought Zoey was weird, but this was the nail in the coffin to her social life.

“How did you know I was looking for a new roommate? I had to evict Zebra God. The cheapskate never paid the rent. So it goes,” Dog God said.

“I actually wasn’t talking to you, Dog God. Not everything is about you. Just tell me how to save the world already.”

“Fine. I’ll send in the world-saving team.” He hung up.

“World-saving team?” Zoey said, confused.

Outside the bathroom door, Zoey could hear a faint playing of a mashup of “The Eye of the Tiger” and the “Rocky” theme song—the two most epic songs of all time.

The Italian Stallion charged into the bathroom and immediately punched one of the mirrors, nearly dropping the large 80’s era boom box that rested comfortable on his broad shoulders. He thought his reflection was an opponent.

Afraid for her safety, Zoey stepped down from the toilet and crept out of the stall. “Rocky?” she asked, dumbfounded.

“Damn right. If I can end the Cold War, I can teach you how to save the world. Cue the montage.”

The montage ensued—1980s style. First things first, Zoey watched all six “Rocky” movies because she was a millennial who had never cared to watch the Rocky movies before.

Using the movies as inspiration, Zoey drank a glass of raw eggs and ran around the campus trying to catch a chicken. However, she lost the chicken early in the training so she started playing Pokémon Go again and caught a Pidgeotto instead. Close enough.

Sparring with Rocky was the most difficult part of the training for Zoey. He refused to go easy on her, but luckily, Mr. T showed up and formed a tag team with Zoey. You could watch their fight on pay per view, if you’re interested.

Unlike the “Rocky” movies, Zoey’s montage concluded without her exerting all of her energy on a staircase— she was not about that life. It was still pretty epic, though: she perched herself on top of the statue of Rammy and threw her fist in the air.

Zoey, tired and punch-drunk, asked a question of her training master. “So, does this mean I’m ready to defeat Zyler now?”

“Who’s Zyler?” Rocky asked. “I just like montages.”

“What the—” Zoey stopped herself. She let out a sigh and dialed Dog God again.

“Hello! This is Amore Pizza. Tim speaking. How can I help you?”

Zoey had obviously dialed the wrong number, but pizza didn’t sound like a terrible idea. “I’ll take a large plain pie for pick-up,” Zoey said.

“I know that voice!” Tim exclaimed. “Zoey, is that you?”

“Uh, yeah?” she replied, puzzled.

“It’s me, Dog God, your Lord!” Dog God replied. “Like I said before, Zebra God wasn’t paying his share of the rent. I needed a part-time job and Amore was hiring—free pizza!”

Zoey could deal no longer with the shenanigans of this canine deity. “Your boy Rocky was no help at all, so could you please just tell me how to save the world already?”

“What’s a Rocky? I called the world-saving team but they all had things to do. I meant to text you that.”

Zoey hung up the phone and sprinted towards Amore, not even stopping to catch Pokémon on the way. She slammed open the door and for the first time laid eyes on Dog God.

Dog God had the head of a Shiba Inu and the body of a 45-year-old man who happened to be gluten-free and really into cross-fit. He looked quite similar to the dog that models for MENSWEAR, with his furry neck poking out of an Amore polo shirt.

Zoey walked up to the counter. ”Hello, I’m picking up my order. The name is Zoey.”

Dog God started to bark uncontrollably because of his excitement. “I’M SO HAPPY TO MEET YOU!!!! GUYS, ZOEY IS HERE. GO GET ZOEY’S PIZZA!!!!!!”

Zoey handed Dog God, who was working the register, a twenty and he slipped her a pizza and a 4×4 doghouse. Zoey awkwardly wrapped her arms around the items in a discombobulated manner.

“It’s my time machine. Use it to save the world.” Dog God looked Zoey in the eye with a grave face. “Don’t scratch it.”

Kirsten Magas is a first-year student majoring in English and biology. She can be reached at [email protected]

Jesse Isadore is a third-year student majoring in English literature. He can be reached at [email protected]

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The Student News Service of West Chester University
Creative Writing Club presents: The New Nightmare