Episode NotesOn a late night snack run a snarky paperboy is confronted with dozens of razor teethed monsters and he's on the menu."They Don't Drive Cars" by Scott S. Phillipshttps://www.amazon.com/-/e/B002BMN3IQMusic by Ray Mattishttp://raymattispresents.bandcamp.comProduced by Daniel WilderGet Cool Merchandise http://store.weeklyspookySupport us on Patreon http://patreon.com/IncrediblyHandsomeContact Us/Submit a Storytwitter.com/WeeklySpookyfacebook.com/[email protected] episode sponsored by HenFlix.comFor everything else visit WeeklySpooky.comTranscript:Aaron had been hoping to sit through the entire Leave it to Beaver marathon on TV Land without interruption – at least until he had to leave for work – but by 2 AM his belly was asserting that food was better than the Beaver. He'd already exhausted his supply of snacks, not thinking that the bag of Salsa Verde Doritos should've been held in reserve for just such an emergency.His stomach gurgled aggressively. One of those microwave breakfast sandwiches from Freddy's All-Nite would go down real smooth, Beaver or no. It was tough to bail on the show when the Beav's pals were about to dick him by wearing their normal, mom-approved clothes to school instead of the cool monster shirts the fellas had picked up the day before, but Aaron could deny his hunger no longer. He slipped on his shoes, grabbed the car keys and lit out, leaving the TV on so as not to miss a second when he came back. Canned laughter echoed as he shut the door behind him.Aaron knew he was lucky to have a place like Freddy's All-Nite, considering the entire population of Charlton, New Mexico was about the size of the cast of Leave it to Beaver. He'd been the local paperboy for almost ten years now, which meant working during the wee hours and sleeping while the sun was up, and Freddy's had kept him in late-night Cokes and junk food. During that time, Aaron had never seen another human being in the place – besides Freddy, anyway – after 11 PM. He lived in constant fear that the old man would get fed up with it and start closing at midnight.A peculiar wail emanated from Aaron's stomach. "Jesus," he said, patting his burgeoning gut and steering with one finger. Getting chubby at 25. Didn't change his feelings about that chicken sandwich, though.The roads were still wet from the most recent rainstorm, which meant another night of wrestling the newspapers into their little plastic sleeves. Aaron hated the things, and was grateful that rain didn't come to Charlton very often.Aaron pulled into the parking lot at Freddy's. As usual, the place was a tomb. Swarms of bugs battered themselves against the lights out front, filling the quiet night with a soft, steady thunking sound.As he stepped out of the car, Aaron noticed the rack of STP near the front door had been knocked over, bottles of fuel additive strewn across the walk. He paused to clean the mess up. There was a small trail of thick, dark liquid spattered across the pavement, but Aaron couldn't track down which bottle had sprung the leak and just stuck them all back on the rack.The new electric eye Freddy had bought set off a chime as Aaron entered the store. The old man was nowhere to be seen. "Hey Freddy, how's tricks?" Aaron said, a little louder than he meant to.After a few seconds, Aaron lifted his foot and thrust it back and forth through the beam of the electric eye, setting off the chime a few more times."You in the shitter?"He poked his head around a couple of the aisles, then glanced toward the counter. Both restroom keys still hung from their nails. Heading to the back of the store, Aaron tapped on the storeroom door. "Freddy?"He put his ear to the door, listening for some sound of the old man. Remembering the upturned STP rack, Aaron quickly walked the length of the store, the electric eye chiming again as he went outside.Rounding the corner of the building, Aaron felt his stomach do the hokey-pokey.There was a shitload of blood slu