Chocolate Fun Dip

Every neighborhood has one. A kid too stupid to function. On my street, it was Les.

Les had blond hair. He never bathed so it was always greasy. The lack of hygiene also caused a foul stench to waft from his body. I don't know where exactly the smell came from, I never really wanted to find out, either.


He also had a slight speech impediment. In later years I found out that he didn't speak until he was about three because his parents were drug addicts and didn't care for him properly. Apparently, when child services came to take him away from his Mom and Dad, he had such a build up of ear wax, he couldn't hear. So, since he couldn't hear, he hadn't learned to talk.

He always wanted to play with the rest of us in the neighborhood, and even though most of us could barely stomach his existence, we always seemed to have an odd number of kids, so he was picked by default.

Inevitably, though, Les would flip out when things weren't going his way. We called him "The Big Red Retard" (after a pro wrestler) whenever he would go insane. That name would set him off to a higher level, and gave us great amusement.

I looked for ways to push his buttons more than most. I guess that was my thing.

One Saturday morning I rode my bike down the street to a kid's house, probably a block away. His name was Jay.
Jay wasn't any smarter than Les. Jay was in Special Education classes, so was Les.

Jay flunked Kindergarten, yes..I said Kindergarten. Les never failed a grade. They did make him start a year later than he should have, to  undergo intensive speech therapy, but he was never held back.

The more I think about it, I realize that Jay might have been more ignorant, but his Dad owned a few grocery stores and we would steal the porno tapes from his rental section, so no one made fun of Jay for the longest time.

Anyway, I rode my bike down the street to Jay's house. His Mom was in their backyard fucking around with some potted plants. I'm not sure who ended up being more weird, Jay, or his mom.

I had her go inside and get Jay for me, and as she walked in, I saw a big bag of Miracle-Gro, so i took it. I don't know why, but I did none the less.

As Jay jumped out of his back door, he called his mom a bitch because she wouldn't make him any french fries. All that kid would eat was french fries, candy, and pizza. A real health nut. To nobody's surprise, he ended up a diabetic before High School.

We went into his shed, which was basically a lean-to with 2x4's nailed up to form the walls, and I showed him the bag of Miracle-Gro. I told him we should fuck with Les, but I didn't know how. It was just a bag of plant food.

I thought we should make him eat it somehow, but we just couldn't force him to eat it, because when he got mad, he also got retard strength. Which, by the way, would be my super power of choice.

That's when I saw a gleam in Jay's eyes. A sparkle of evil that took over his entire face. He bolted through the tarps on the back wall and ran inside. Within a minute he was back, and he was carrying with him two packs of Fun Dip.

If your aren't familiar with Fun Dip, it is a packet containing flavored sugar and a candy stick that, once licked, the sugar will stick to.

He tossed me a packet and told me to eat it. Now, we've already gone over how dumb Jay is, so me following his orders blindly will give you a bit of insight into my lack of fore thought.

As i finished my packet of what amounts to crack for eleven year olds, I noticed Jay hadn't opened his.

With the last bump of Fun Dip out of my pack, Jay snatched it away from me and he started piling scoops of Miracle-Gro into it. I was slowly starting to realize what his plan was.

"Are you going to give that to Les?" I asked him.

"Nope." He responded very matter of factly, "You are."

I told him I didn't want to, but he reminded me that he gave me a pack of Fun-Dip from his own personal stash, so I owed it to him. And really, I kind of agreed with him. I guess it must have been some unwritten children's code regarding candy.

So I hopped on my Huffy and Jay hopped on his Dyno, he always had better and more expensive bikes than I, and we rode the few doors down to catch Les in his side yard running from bees.

When he saw us pull up, he hurried over. Like a true showman, Jay ripped open his bag and started eating the Fun-Dip like it was pussy.

Then I pulled out my bag from my fanny pack, fuck off...it was the early 90's and that shit was still cool, and I offered it to Les.

"Hey man, want some Chocolate Fun Dip?"

"Yeah, but what are those round white things?"

I stammered to find a response. Twice in one day stupid kids have bested me in the thinking department.
Finally, I stuttered, "Marshmallows?"

Yeah, the question mark should be there. I was unsure of my answer, how could he buy it if I didn't?

Well, he had an I.Q. hovering around 70, so he jumped right on the offer.

The first bite he grimiced.....

The second bite he teared up.....

The third bite....he puked. Everywhere.

He was covered, the sidewalk was covered, and Jay's mag rims were covered.

I confessed that it was Miracle-Gro and he was scared shitless. Then again, so was I. Here I am, Eleven years old. In the fifth grade and I'm going to go to jail for killing a kid with plant food. I had dreams of becoming a pitcher in the World Series, instead I would become a catcher in a federal prison.

I fast talked Les into coming back to Jay's house so we could look in his cabinets for the Poison Control number. In those days, everybody put the Mr. Yuck stickers on everything but Mt. Dew, so we knew  we would find the number and be able to save his life.

We called and told a man named Jeremy the entire story. Everything, from stealing the Miracle-Gro, to tricking him into eating three full mouthfuls.

Jeremy lectured us on being safe around dangerous materials, and said since he vomited, it was highly unlikely that any of the junk was still in his body. He told us to keep an eye on him for the next half hour and took Jay's number and said he would call back.

Les ended up being ok that day, but he did die when we were 18. So, that sucked.