Sunday Funny Story #4: The Haunted Potato Shack

 🥔 The Haunted Potato Shack

*A total work of fiction, character names are real people in our lives- every thing else is made up.*

(Cast: Chris, Amanda, Kathleen, and Doug)

Sometimes, the best detours are the ones you don’t plan.

We were somewhere between “absolutely lost” and “mildly starving” when we spotted a hand-painted sign: “Fresh Veggies & Fries Ahead!” A roadside produce stand sounded perfect—stretch the legs, grab a snack, maybe pick up some sweet corn.

But when we pulled into the gravel lot, it wasn’t a veggie stand at all. A sagging banner flapped in the wind, reading: “Spudtacular Screams—Idaho’s Most Terrifying Tater Experience!”

Kathleen looked skeptical. “Are we really doing this?”

Chris was already out of the RV, camera in hand, eyes gleaming like a kid on Halloween night. “Absolutely. Haunted potatoes? How can we not?”

The entrance was shaped like a massive baked potato, complete with fake butter oozing down the sides. A fog machine puffed out “steam,” and eerie potato-themed puns were plastered everywhere. “We’re mash-ing your fears!” “Fries of the Living Dead!”

Inside, chaos reigned.
One room had sacks of “haunted fries” whispering, “Join usss… we were once human too…” Another featured giant spuds with googly eyes that swung from the ceiling like pendulums. In the corner, a costumed “Mr. Butterknife” lurked—a giant baked potato wielding an oversized butter knife.

Kathleen screamed at every turn, clinging to Amanda’s arm as animatronic potatoes rolled across the floor, moaning about ketchup. Chris laughed so hard he had to stop recording to catch his breath.

And Doug—stoic, calm, impossible-to-rattle Doug—strolled through like it was a museum tour. At the end, where most people ran screaming into the night, he simply walked up to the snack counter, pointed at the deep fryer, and said, “One large order of fries, please.”

We gathered around the picnic table outside, the sound of distant shrieks mixing with the crunch of golden fries.

Amanda grinned. “Worth it?”

Doug held up a fry like a victory flag. “Best haunted house ever.”

Chris nodded, wiping tears from his eyes. “I’m calling this one: the Fright of the Fries.”

Kathleen just groaned. “Please, no more potato puns.”

We all agreed—except Chris. He was already brainstorming next Halloween’s slogan: “The Spudening: Fear is a Dish Best Served Fried.”