Nathan CromwellI’ve been rereading my old Brunvand books on urban legends (The Vanishing Hitchhiker, The Choking Doberman, The Sane Girlfriend, etc.) and I’ve decided to share some of the classics with you, as well as their regional variations:The Mexican Pet
An Arizona housewife visiting a Mexican border town spotted a small, shivering dog. Knowing the stray needed her and that the border guards would never allow her to take it into the States, she hid it in her trunk.
Back home she tried to nurse it to health with milk and chocolate. After a few hours even a complete moron could see the listless, whining dog was seriously ill. She wrapped the dog in a sweater and drove it into town to be examined.
As soon as she unwrapped her new pet the man asked where she had gotten it.
“This poor dog wandered into my backyard.”
“Lady, you didn’t find this in Arizona. It’s a Mexican rat, and it’s dying.”
A housewife vacationing in Mexico spotted a small cactus by the side of the road. She decided it was perfect for her garden, so she stuffed it under her sundress and smuggled it across the border clutched between her legs.
She planted it in her garden, but after a few hours of watching it shiver and whine, she decided to take it into town for evaluation. No sooner had she put it on the counter than the man asked her where she’d gotten it.
“Lady, you didn’t buy this at no nursery. It’s a Mexican rat, and it’s dying.”
A housewife from the Southwest spotted an abandoned Mexican baby outside a Nogales souvenir shop. Since she’d had no children herself in spite of repeated attempts with drunken strangers, she decided to smuggle the child across the border and raise it as her own. She purchased a child safely seat and put the baby into it. Placing them on the roof of her car, she drove all the way home.
After a few hours of watching it shivering and squeaking in her makeshift crib of duct-taped vodka crates, she decided to take it in for a checkup.
No sooner had she walked through the door than the man cried out, “Zooterkins! Why do you keep bringing dying Mexican rats into my electronics store, lady? I can see from here that’s a Mexican rat with a secondhand Osama bin Laden Halloween mask strapped on its head. Are you demented? Hey, you want to buy a boom box?” he asked, pointing to a dead rat in trap in the corner.
“How much?” she asked.
The Vanishing Hitchhiker
A man was driving down a lonely country road when he spotted a teen girl on the shoulder waving him down. Since it was nearly midnight, he took pity and pulled over.
“I live down the road a spell,” she told him. “It sure be mighty nice of you to give me a lift.”
They drove on in silence for a while.
“So, you gonna tell me where, specifically?”
“‘Bout four miles more, second house on the left. It’s red, with an old Chevy in front.”
Four miles later the man pulled into the driveway, but as he turned to wish the teen a good night, he discovered that she was gone. Perplexed, he got out and knocked on the door. Finally, a man answered.
“I gave a lift to a young lady, and she just disappeared. I was raised to at least give a thank you to someone who does you a favor.”
The man looked shocked, then shook his head. “That was our daughter, Lisa. Three years ago, on her way home from the prom, she was hit by a car. She’s deaaaaaaaaad.”
A man driving along a lonely road was flagged down by a teen. Her prom dress was smeared in blood and one of her eyeballs was swinging from its socket, but he decided that she seemed harmless enough. Putting a towel on the front seat, he told her to get in. “Where do you live?”
“Don de rowd. Blue hows wit monster truck on bloks,” she said awkwardly through her broken jaw.
Four miles later the man spotted the house. He parked, but when he turned to get the girl’s phone number he noticed that she was gone. Annoyed, he began banging on the front door and honking his car horn alternately. When, after half an hour, that didn’t work, he began throwing rocks through the second story bedroom windows. Finally the parents’ car pulled into the driveway and they inquired as to who he was.
“I gave a lady a ride home and she didn’t even thank me,” he bellowed. “Where I come from we raise people polite.”
“That was our daughter. She was hit by car on her way back from the prom two years ago. She’s deaaaaaaaaad!”
A man driving down a lonely road spotted a teen shivering by the side of the road. In spite of her extreme ugliness he decided he’d pick her up anyway.
“Where do you live, princess?”
The teen, her teeth chattering, pointed. The man shrugged and accelerated down the road. They came to a small farmhouse with a Soviet-era tank on blocks in the driveway. The man parked and began asking in as tactful a way as is possible about the likelihood of a date before he left town, a period of roughly ten minutes, but he discovered that the teen had already disappeared.
Enraged but still dimly hopeful the man began banging on the door. Soon the father answered, a Stinger Missile launcher resting comfortably on his shoulder.
“Can I help you?”
“I picked up a butt-ugly teen by the side of the road and gave her a ride home, but she took off without even a thank you.”
“Mister, that wasn’t our teenage daughter, who’s upstairs with a traveling salesman from Utah, but my wife’s pet Mexican rat, which was hit a year ago—-and it’s deaaaaaaaaad!”
“Holy guacamole, that’s weird,” the man said and drove away. He poured himself another shot of tequila, and as he tossed it down he heard a thump. Pulling over to inspect the damage, he discovered a teen in a prom dress caught in his bumper and wrapped around his right tire.
“Omigod,” shrieked a vehicle for pimples and grease in an ill-fitting tux. “She was trying to flag you down for a ride. My car broke down!”
“You know, it seems I can’t drive down this road without hitting a young teen. Happens every year. Isn’t life funny?” he asked the sobbing boy.
The Blind Date
A teen whose friends have set him up optimistically stops by the drugstore to buy some condoms. He jokes with the checkout guy that he’s really hoping to score later. That night, when he goes to pick up the girl, the father turns out to be the guy from the drugstore!
A young teen hoping to boff his blind date stops by the drugstore for condoms. “Ribbed, for her pleasure,” he announces to the annoyed pharmacist. That night the door is answered by her father—the man at the pharmacy. “With brass knuckles, for your displeasure” he chortles as he pulls his fist back.
A young teen buys condoms at a pharmacy in hopes of tupping a young lass on their blind date. “Tonight,” he informs the pharmacist and everyone in line behind him, “I plan to make the beast with two backs with a most toothsome wench.” Later, when he arrives at the appointed time, the father answers the door—the pharmacist who sold him the condoms! The man frowns and glances at his watch. “If she’s going to work you in, too, she’d better hurry. I don’t know where she finds the time, I really don’t.”
A young teen, hoping to bang a babe on their first date, stops by a sex-positive shop and purchases condoms, lubricants, several videos, two strap-ons, an extra-large CR, and a Barry White CD. He says nothing to the man behind the counter and the man says nothing to him. Later, when he arrives at the house to pick the girl up, the father answers the door—the man from the shop! “After I saw you buy all that, I gave my daughter twenty bucks to see a movie with her friends,” he announces, his pants dropping with an ominous flop.