The Maze Bummer: A Parody of The Maze Runner

Thomas just sat there for a moment, too overwhelmed to move. Then a metallic clicking sound behind him caught his attention. He peeked behind him to see a little metal thing that looked like a bug checking out his butt.

“Hey! What are you looking at?” said Thomas, waving at it. “Shoo, shoo!” The thing scurried off.

“Beetleperv,” said Chuck.

“Beetleperv?” said Thomas.

“Yeah, they’re always checking us out,” said Chuck. “Won’t hurt you, though. Unless you slip on one in the shower.”

“They come into the shower?” said Thomas.

Suddenly a terrifying scream tore through the air from the direction of the frat house.

“What was that?” said Thomas anxiously.

“They got him,” said Chuck.

“Who are they?” said Thomas.

“With any luck, you’ll never find out,” said Chuck.

It was weird enough for Thomas to hear these things, but it was even weirder to hear them coming from a 15-year-old fat kid.

“So why are you so much younger than everyone else?” said Thomas.

“Best I can tell, it’s because I was a kid genius who started college when I was 13 and then joined a frat sophomore year,” said Chuck.

College. Frat. The words felt familiar to Thomas, and he vaguely remembered a place with lots of kids his age where he drank and partied and once in a while showed up in class to turn in a paper he’d copied off the Internet.

“What does you going to college when you were 13 and then joining a frat have to do with anything?” said Thomas.

“The last thing any of us remember before coming here is being in a frat in college,” said Chuck.

That’s weird, thought Thomas. That’s the last thing I remember, too.

There was another scream from the frat house. It was the same guy, but even louder. Chuck laughed.

“How can you laugh when someone is screaming like that?” said Thomas.

“He’ll be okay,” Chuck said. “No one dies from hooking up with a Heaver. As long as they didn’t go all the way, that is.”

Hooking up with a Heaver? What in the world was he talking about?

Thomas walked over to one of the openings in the walls. “What’s out there?” he said.

Chuck looked uncomfortable. “I’ve never been.”

Thomas rolled his eyes. “Looks like the only way I’m gonna learn stuff here is to find out for myself.” He started walking out the opening.

“No! Wait!” Chuck yelled, and threw his body in front of Thomas. “They’re about to close!”

“What’s about to close?” said Thomas.

“The walls!” said Chuck.

“Dude, if these 200-foot-high walls close, I will pour hot sauce onto my nutsack,” said Thomas. Hot sauce. Nutsack. How had he remembered these words?

Something in the corridor caught Thomas’s attention. He looked more closely and was stunned to see an Asian dude in really short jogging shorts in the corridor, running full speed toward the opening.

“Who the hell is that?” said Thomas.

“One of the Joggers coming back from the Maze,” said Chuck.

“Did you say maze?” said Thomas, as the Asian dude ran past him and into the Sausage Fest. Thomas was alarmed to notice the guy’s shorts were so small that his junk was hanging out.

Thomas then saw a bunch of other Asian dudes run in through the other openings of the Sausage Fest, all wearing similar shorts and all with their junk hanging out. The joggers ran over to a small hut in the middle of the Sausage Fest and went inside.

“Who were those guys? What’s that building? And aren’t there any other shorts they can wear?”

“Dude, you gotta chill with the questions,” said Chuck. “You’re giving me a headache. Ah—” Chuck held up a finger. “It’s about to happen. You might wanna get your nutsack ready.”

“What’s about to happen?” said Thomas. But before he could even finish asking the question, the earth shook and the walls started closing.

Thomas couldn’t believe it. This must defy all the laws of physics, he thought. But then he remembered that when he’d taken physics he’d never actually gone to class, so he actually had no idea if this was true.

A resounding boom echoed across the Sausage Fest as the doors all sealed shut for the night.

“Man, are you lucky the Creators don’t send us any hot sauce,” said Chuck.