Death of a Salesman

“Because he was out standing in his field! HAWWW!”

“Yeah, good one, Ed. 'Scuse me.”

-

“It was two tired! HAWWW!”

“Ha. Pardon me, Ed.”

-

“European! HAWWW!"

“Right, Ed. Have a breath mint or something.”

-

“Igloos it together! HAWWW!”

“Jeezum, Ed! How much of that cheap-ass whiskey did you bring?”

-

“People are just dying to get in! HAWWW!”

“Goddammit, Ed, stop the drinking and SHUT THE FUCK UP or you're fired!”

-

“...and fuck 'em if they can't take a joke. Stuck up motherfuckers always on my ass about stupid shit...”

The woods got dark quickly after Ed walked away from the corporate team-building retreat. He stumbled as he muttered through the dark forest.

“I’m a faux pa! That's fucking funny! And it's, like...college funny. Fuck those fucks...”

Even in his drunken state Ed began to realize something was wrong. It was a lot chillier than it should be for the time of year. He turned up the collar of his old high school letterman's jacket. It was a little snug but with some discreet Hasselhoffing he could still force his way into it.

The something what was wrong slowly closed the distance between it and That Drunk-ass Ed In Sales.

"50 Cent featuring Nickelback! Fucking funny and, y'know...timely. And an associate degree is a degree, always wears purple and pink Edna in HR!"

The woods were silent except for Ed's monologue and drunken footsteps. The something that was wrong had Ed in its entirely figurative sight. It anticipated the imminent feast with something as close to glee as an eldritch horror could get.

"Because he couldn't see that well! Funny and, I mean...word play. So, fuck you mister literary author Patreon CEO Beauchamp! And your fucking Porsche!"

Suddenly it was before him. The walking corpse of a 13-point buck deer the size of a bull moose. Bone showed through the oozing gashes in its putrid body. Its head was mostly skull but where eyesockets should have been there was nothing but gleaming bone.

"Wha...wha...wha...what are you?"

Its voice bypassed his ears and settled directly in his brain. It gripped his soul in an icy grasp.

"You know what I am, Ed. You called Me. You summoned Me."

The horror of it stilled his loose tongue and loosened his bladder. That Drunk-ass Ed In Sales had spewed his last dad joke so the thing before him issued the punchline that he could not.

"I am the no-eyed deer."

Ed could not even scream as his soul was consumed.

-

That Drunk-ass Ed In Sales' body was found four days later, the silent scream still on his face.

"What the hell happened to him?," a deputy sheriff asked of an EMT.

The EMT eyed the body for a moment then shrugged.

"No clue."