Jose grumbled, as he carried the nearly 200 lb of manure out toward the green metal manure spreader. Neither Julio, nor his crew were anywhere in sight. Jose was tempted to carry the sack of shit back to his truck, and make Julio carry it over to the spreader. His truck was in the parking lot, and the spreader was a lot closer.
"Time to spread some manure," Jose said as he hefted the bag off his shoulders.
Chad panicked. He was barely holding himself together as it was. He didn't want to be broken up and used as plant food. He started struggling in the bag, and calling out to the gardener.
"Please, Jose, don't. I am not manure. Um, guess I look and smell like shit, but Jeff did dome kind of voodoo to me. It's me. Chad. You know the quarterback. Blond guy. Uh, you gotta help me," the bag of shit pleaded.
Jose opened the bag, and looked at the vaguely man shaped sack of muck. The manure man started to reach out of the burlap sack. Jose lifted and shook the bag dumping its screaming contents into the large metal bin of the spreader.
Jeff happened to be arriving. No one else except the grounds keeper and manure Chad seemed to be around. Jose was ignoring Chad's protestations, and picked up a pitchfork to break up the manure.
Jose was talking to himself and the manure as Jeff approached. Jose said, "I hate these LSD flashbacks. I know you are only a hallucination. But I kinda wish you were that prick Chad. I lost $300 betting against this high school, an' it was all your- er, Chad's fault."
"You okay, Jose?" Jeff asked.
Chad was shrieking as Jose repeatedly jammed rhe pitchfork into him.
"Yeah, jes flashbacks. Did LSD when I was a kid. Sometimes get hallucinations, like now. The cow shit is talking to me. I know it's not. It's jes manure. So I'm going to spread it on the fields. Ignore the pleas and screams. By remembering it's jes manure, I get over flashback. See?" Jose said as he climbed on the riding mower. The cutting blades were disengaged, and the spreader was attached to the rear. As the small tractor moved forward, the wheels on the spreader turned the rotor blades at the bottom of the bin, and ground tiny pieces of manure poured out the narrow opening on the bottom of the spreader bin.
Jeff noticed a big hunk of manure that ended on the ground next to where the spreader had been parked. He picked up the piece of manure in a piece of paper from his backpack.
Jeff glanced over his shoulder, and said, "Bye-bye, Chad. Don't know how you managed to reconstitute yourself you big shit, but this time you are literally plant food." As the slow moving spreader header toward the practice field passing an equipment shed, Jeff entered the athletic building.