Bad Day On The Midway (novel)

***Bad Day On The Midway*** is the first novel published by The Residents. It is based on their 1995 CD-ROM game of the same name.

## History

*Bad Day On The Midway* was a video game produced by The Residents in 1995 for CD-ROM. However, due to rapidly advancing technology, the game quickly became unplayable on modern machines.

Flash forward to 2012, The Residents begin to remember *Bad Day* and wonder how they could translate the story to modern audiences. A book was mentioned amongst grumbles, and the group quickly began working on one. The group's composer began to work on a soundtrack album, with occasional contributions from the other members.

It was first published October 20th 2012, sold through The Residents website, with leftover copies being sold during the Wonder Of Weird tour.

In April 2020, Antibookclub, published a pocket book version of the book.

## Excerpt

### March 5, 1963

8:38 AM - Tebo loved to hate. Everyone draws meaning from something in life. It could be their children, renewing the idea of unlimited hope, it could be their career, their hobby, their feeling of connection to a favorite cause, but everyone cares about something. For Tebo, it was hate. Because, in Tebo’s twisted mind, his hatred somehow turned bad into good. Hate was power. Hate was passion. Hate was fear in the eyes of his enemies, and Tebo had many enemies.

For most of his life Ronnie Tookey had been a weird little shrimp that everyone called Spooky … Spooky Tookey. Ronnie hated his nickname, but around the time he started junior high, the shrimp began to grow, and he liked growing. Soon some guy called him Spooky once too often and Ronnie hit him. Then he hit him again and again. Finally, standing over his fallen foe, Ronnie laughed and said he made the guy’s face look like a T-bone steak. After that nobody called him Spooky any more. They called him T-bone. Pretty soon that was shortened to Tebo, and Ronnie liked being Tebo.

Sure, nobody liked him, just like nobody had liked him when he was Spooky. But this was a different kind of dislike. Before, he was just trash, a dried up wad of spit, a dustball left behind by a lazy janitor. But, by the time he got to high school, nobody treated him like trash any more. They were afraid. He saw it in their eyes and the more he saw, the more he liked.

Just like the day he beat up that wimp, Bob Bennefield. Bob Bennefield, the big tough basketball player. Tebo had wanted to kick his butt for a long time and Bob knew it, too; that’s why he kept dodging and ducking and weaseling away. So Tebo just waited. He waited until he had a class with Bob’s girlfriend. First he blew his nose on her sweater, then he put some salt in a jar full of slugs and left it on her desk. Finally, when that wasn’t enough to make Bob Bennefield show up, Tebo wrapped up a turkey head in the girlfriend’s gym clothes. The next day when the outraged basketball player confronted Tebo with the turkey head, his protest was met with laughter and a perfectly aimed wad of spittle, landing right in the middle of the turkey’s lifeless, unseeing eye. With that Bennefield went berserk, charging Tebo who simply stepped aside and pushed a garbage can into big Bob’s path. As soon as the basketball player hit the ground, Tebo grabbed the can, smashed it over Bob’s head and kicked him in the stomach, over and over again. As the bloody teenager clutched his broken ribs and writhed in pain, his tormentor casually picked up the turkey head and stuffed it in Bob’s mouth. For Tebo it was a moment of immense satisfaction.

One of Tebo’s favorite haunts was the carnival midway on the outskirts of town. With its rides, shows and gyp joints, the midway always brought new people to entertain him. And new people were fun for Tebo. The carnival had just opened for its new season a few weeks earlier and the young thug only had a little more to do before leaving for the fairgrounds. He was almost done wrapping black friction tape around one end of a short pipe he carried beneath his shirt. The tape provided maximum gripping power on an object that only existed for one reason: to crush bones. Tebo always felt a tingle of excitement at these times and, as soon as he finished the pipe, this pimple faced lover of pain was off in search of gaiety and grisly fun at the fair.

## See also

* *The Brick-Eaters*
* *Bad Day On The Midway* (game)
* *Bad Day On The Midway: Music From The Game Reconsidered*

## External links and references

1. ↑ Randy Rose, "Bad Day on the Midway", Maurice and Me, April 26th 2012