Klickitat Street

Welcome to Klickitat Street — a foul-mouthed, dark comedy short story and irreverent Henry Huggins parody that reimagines a beloved childhood neighborhood gone completely off the rails.

“Moms ain’t gone do me like that,” Henry muttered to himself as he walked down Klickitat Street with his dog, Ribs. “I’m the paper boy around this bitch. I’m getting all the paper around this bitch.”

“Yo, Huggins!”

Henry heard a familiar voice shout at him. He turned and saw Scooter riding in an unfamiliar Oldsmobile. The car slowed down. Scooter was hanging out of the passenger side. A spiraling bundle flew through the air like a pigskin and Henry caught it.

“This week’s news!” Scooter hollered and laughed wildly as the Oldsmobile peeled off. “Click Clack, Klickitat, motherfucker!”

Henry checked the contents of the brown paper bag and looked at his dog, Ribs, who was panting with excitement, his breath frosty in the cold.

“We’re gonna eat today, Ribs,” Henry said and smiled at his dog. “All the horsemeat you can handle.”

Ribs licked his chops, wagging his tail.

Klickitat Street was an old street. The drug store still sold bottles of pop, but most of the drift that came by stuffed their pockets full of whatever they could walk out with. Either that or pick up their daily fixes from the likes of Henry and the Paper Boys.

It was this collision of nostalgia and grit that made Klickitat Street such an unlikely dark comedy short story — familiar streets, unfamiliar mouths.

In a not-so-rare moment of nostalgia, Henry remembered the day he first met Ribs, and put him in that old cardboard box so he could get on the bus…

Henry’s reverie was interrupted by a little girl’s voice.

“Clonk, clonk! I’m a steam shovel,” the girl said. Then she bit him on the leg.

“Ow! Bitch, get the fuck off me!” Henry yelled as Ribs barked and used his jaws to pry the little girl by her paint-splattered overalls off Henry’s leg.

“Henry Huggins,” a shrill voice cried. “You get your dog off of my sister!”

It was Beezus. She and Henry were the same age, but that didn’t mean they were friends.

“Your little sister just bit me,” Henry informed Beezus as she checked Ramona to see if she was okay.

“So you let your dog bite her back?” Beezus demanded to know.

“Well, why the fuck don’t you keep her inside then?” Henry shot back. “That bitch needs a zookeeper, not a babysitter.”

“Don’t you call my sister a bitch!” Beezus roared and held her fists up as if to sock Henry in the jaw. “She’s neurodivergent! She has special needs!”

“Yeah, whatever,” Henny muttered and gave Ramona an apologetic look before walking off with Ribs. Ramona stared back at him, her weirded out eyes still imagining she was a steam shovel. In her left hand, she held a piece of string that she probably imagined had some dead animal dragging behind her.

“Did you get anything in the mail?” Beezus called after him. “I’m super stressed right now.”

Henry paused. Ribs looked at him expectantly. Henry knew Beezus didn’t have any money. She was asking for a freebie.

“The fuck do I look like?” Henny said, noncommittedly. “You got a sucker?”

“A what?” Beezus asked shrilly. “A sucker? Henry Huggins, do I look like a candy store?”

“You don’t have a sucker? That’s okay,” Henry said gently. Then instantly switching his tone he cried, “Suck this, bitch!” and grabbed his jeans.

Right on cue, Henry and Ribs ran down Klickitat Street. Beezus was yelling and cursing with Ramona still standing there, holding a dirty piece of string.

And that’s life on Klickitat Street — this unapologetic Henry Huggins parody proving that even the sweetest childhood memories can be rewritten with a little bit of chaos.

If irreverent takes on nostalgic favorites are your thing, check out Charlie and the Chocolate Fuckery, another dark comedy short story from Kimchi x Kafka that flips a beloved classic on its head.