Have you ever heard the phrase "So hungry you could eat a horse?" I used to wonder where that came from: like who was the first guy to mosey on up, take a bite from a ****in horse, and go "This is pretty good"? Maybe it was one of those situations where you had to be there. Who knows. What I do know is that I'm starting to sympathize with that guy more and more...it's been days since I last ate, and if a horse were to saunter by right now, I wouldn’t hesitate to run up on that sucker and have me one Black Beauty burger, extra sauce. That is, if I had the strength to get up. I’ve been lying on the sand now for the past three hours. Maybe longer. Hard to tell with no watch. I don’t even mind the sun anymore—with how long I been out here, I’d make a leather couch blush. The first couple days were the worst...with no shelter, I thought I was gonna fry from the heat. And being surrounded by water you can’t drink? The ultimate cruelty. After awhile, I didn’t even have enough fluids in me to piss two drops in my mouth (and if you think that’s gross, you just see how long you last before you don’t care what it is you’re puttin’ down your throat). Why I ever let myself be talked into that damn boat trip...I knew it was a bad idea. Amy and Sarah had laughed at me, Jeff had told me I’d be fine, and like a fool I let them sail me away. Well no one was laughin’ when that storm came. No one seemed fine as the waves smashed into us, the wind howlin’ and lightnin’ flashin’ and all of us struggling to stay afloat. And when we finally did wash up onto this damn island, just me and Jeff, you better believe the first thing I said was “I told you so”. Life on an island ain’t easy, and with only Jeff for company, things were that much harder. If it’d been Sarah or Amy, at least we coulda had some fun...instead, I’m stuck with mister Boy Scouts of America, who thinks playin’ Rock, Paper, Scissors is a good time. He didn’t seem to care for it too much our last game, though—paper covers rock, but rock caves in your stupid ****in’ skull. Sometimes I felt a bit guilty. If I had shown some restraint, maybe I could’ve made Jeff last longer. But now even his bones are picked clean, and here I am dyin’ of hunger. I’d heard you could bite through your finger like a baby carrot, but that’s horseshit. Takes a lot more force than that. And what do you do once you’re all out of fingers? I don’t know the guy who first coined the phrase “So hungry I could eat a horse”, but I’d sure like to meet him...I’d show him what real hunger is.

Story is told by getmanpyro

He Comments At Night....Mostly.

Nice. Reminds of Stephen Kings short story 'Survivor Type'. Who did say that anyway?

S L. K

great story.. ****'n loved it... gOOd sense of humor !!!


some people have no arms so no fingers isn't as bad as no arms