I’m a Bic Boy Now

March 2, 2017
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It was a cold, bland and boring night at a gas station. The clerk at the mart sat there in silence scrolling through his facebook feed. He didn’t even notice. A man strolled his way to the cashier, looking through the lighters. He wore something reminiscent of robes, making him look slightly like a wizard, but the clerk gave no heed. He chose a simple blue colored lighter after putting a slight amount of thought into choosing one, as if it would matter.

“That’ll be a dollar thirty,” the cashier yawned to the man. He pulled a dollar and thirty cents seemingly out of nowhere, as if he already had it prepared. He left the store without a word and immediately disappeared, he was nowhere in sight. Smoke started to rise from the outside, accompanied by a loud crackling sound. The clerk was too busy to even notice, as his phone took the priority in this situation. He looked up to stretch his neck, and noticed the fire that had started outside. The suddenness and bright light from the fire disabled him for a minute, leaving him sitting there in shock. The now blazing fire soon spread to the fuel dispenser making quick work of it, as a loud boom thundered in the area. The clerk finally took notice and grabbed the nearest fire extinguisher, panicking for his life as he tried to put out the fire at the entrance. Within a moments notice, he realised he could do nothing and ran, towards the back entrance. There was fire blocking his path there, too. He had no escape; he was going to die.

The next day when the fire department came over to extinguish the fire, they found a corpse, completely burned and charred, seemingly around the age of 20. His skin was displaced and malformed, he must’ve been in a lot of pain. The fire department couldn't find the source of the fire, or who caused it, but what they couldn’t see was a small moving object, colored blue. It was a bic lighter.

“WHOOOOO,” came a tiny squeal from the grass. It was so minuscule, most likely quieter than the squeak of a mouse. “HO BOY THAT WAS AWESOME,” it screamed out again, in an ecstasy of joy. “THERE WAS FIRE HERE AND THERE AND IN THE STORE AND ON THE GUY AN-.” The lighter’s celebration was interrupted by the sound of a revving engine. A group of bikers had shown up, thinking they could buy a lighter from the now charred gas station.

“Whoa, that looks like a fire I wouldn’t want to have been involved in. The whole building is completely burned, it’s like a good pork roast!” they all laughed in a piggish manner, all the while the lighter made it’s way to their feet. After feebly running a meter with its stubby, wire-like legs it fell to the ground, rolling around, to try and create any hint of noise it could to be seen. The second biker saw it and picked it up.

“Would ya look at this. Boys, it’s our lucky day; we done found a lighter!” they all cheered and laughed some more as “Bic”, the aptly self-named possibly male lighter was picked up. He was quickly shoved in a pocket, and all turned to black as he heard the sound of engines starting up, and to it what sounded like a ravaging thunderstorm. In reality, the bikers had already begun to move as they all rode home, or the abandoned warehouse they considered home. The lighter was kept warm as it shifted in the biker’s flabby pocket, but it wasn’t enough. Bic felt freezing, as though he had been deprived of all possible sources of heat.

“HOOOOO I’M COLD. I’M COLD. I’M COLD. I’M FREEZING! HEAT… HEAT!” he screamed out in what seemed to be a cold induced pain. “AS SOON AS I GET HOME I’M GONNA HEAT RIGHT UP, REAL WARM!” he screamed again, in an arsonist like psychotic manner.

In after what felt like an eternity of riding, the bikers finally arrived at their home; a relatively new but abandoned warehouse used as a hub for all bikers alike. The bikers parked their Chopper motorbikes near the warehouse and entered what looked like a bar. It was properly run and seemed to have a muscular and well built looking bartender. Bic was quick to be placed on a nearby pool table, probably to be used later. Bic had other plans. He shimmied himself to the edge of the table, falling to the floor, immediately scurrying to under the pool table. Surveying the area, he checked for wood and alcohol. His eyes darted around, until his gaze was fixed on the bar counter, also seeing the shiny gleam of alcohol washed across the floor. He waited a moment for a biker to pass, and immediately afterwards, dashed towards the counter. He miraculously climbed the wall onto the shelves of alcohol behind the barkeep, with his self-grown plastic arms. He got behind the most potent vodka, pushing it towards the edge. He planned to drop it on the floor, if he got lucky he could knock out the barkeep too.

Looks like today’s Bic’s lucky day, because he not only knocked the barkeep out, moreover some bikers also started a drunken bar fight, with alcohol being thrown everywhere. All the conditions had been met. Bic threw himself off the shelf, hurtling towards a puddle. He lit himself moments before he landed. No one heard the slight splash made by landing in alcohol, but they did feel the heat of a fire starting. Within moments the counter erupted in a blaze. Scaring off or torching anyone close enough to feel the heat. The fire quickly spread towards the corners of the bar, erupting the entire warehouse in flames. Bic had climbed onto the counter screaming in a pure ecstasy of delight. “OH MY GOD YES YES YES YES YES YES YES! BURN IT ALL BURN BURN BURN BURN- BUUUURRN! HO HAHAHA!” tiny sounds came from his squeak of a voice as the warehouse started resembling a camping troop’s campfire.

Bic ran around on the counter, not knowing what to do with his energy, getting the idea to jump off, into the inferno. An adrenaline induced fire suicide would be the best way to describe his glorious leap into hell. Hours passed as the fire continued on. Even the fire department had to wait for it to settle down, containing the fire within the confines of the warehouse.

Once they were able to extinguish and cool the area, the warehouse was explored to possibly find evidence of the cause of the fire. Nothing was found. The police and fire department all left the building. In the car ride back, one police officer pulled out a cigarette.

“You got a light?” he asked, realising he probably shouldn’t smoke after the scene of a fire.

“Yeah actually, I happened to find a blue lighter on the floor, it should still work,” yawned the other officer as he brought the lighter towards the cigarette. The cop smoked the rest of the way back to the station.

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