Peter had signed up to pick up trash because Jenny Sinclair had signed up. She'd signed up as soon as the notice had gone up three weeks ago. Peter had signed up two days ago. He didn’t want to spend his Saturday morning picking up trash on the beach with his co-workers. He’d only signed up to get closer to Jenny...and she was nowhere in sight.

"I mean, maybe she's running late?" muttered Brian over the thrash of the ocean and the squawk of a group of seagulls. "Like...really late. How's her attendance?"

"I think it's fine." That wasn't exactly true. Think wasn't the right word. Peter knew that her attendance was perfect, but he felt weird revealing that to Brian. He could know that he was interested in Jenny, but Peter didn't want him to know how interested.

"Well. Look on the bright side, Pete. We’re going out for pizza and beer after this, and it's all on Donna's dime. That can't be too bad, right?"

He wasn't wrong on that. Donna could be pretty generous, and he figured he'd pay next to nothing since they'd spent the morning picking up trash. "I can't believe how much trash there is." Peter said.

"Dude, I was thinking the same thing. It's like one of those things that you don't notice until you pay attention to it.

"My thoughts exactly. Like how do people not put it in a bag and then just take it to the trash cans?" He pointed past the big pile of trash at the trash cans. They'd been there for just under forty-five minutes, and they'd accumulated a good amount of garbage.

Brian shrugged. "I guess that's why we're here. Pick up other folks’ trash. People are disgusting."

They walked in silence for a moment. The ocean continued its orchestra. Peter thought about what had possibly happened to Jenny, and his mind started to wander into the negative. What if she got into a car accident? What if another form of tragedy had happened to her? What if she was with Clyde from the home theater? He’d seen them getting somewhat close; the whole store saw them getting close. What if they were a thing? Peter’s mouth fell open to say something to Brian. He didn’t know what he was going to say, just something to fill the void. Then he heard Donna’s scream.

It was a horrifying sound. Ear-piercing and blood-curdling. More screams polluted the air, taking over the sounds of the beach. Peter spun around in Donna's direction, and his brain refused to believe what his eyes were seeing. The pile of trash was moving at a foreign and rapid speed, merging into one another, ripping through the black bags that once contained it. It formed massive legs, a staggering torso, and huge arms. Cups, discarded boxes, plastic, and glass bottles rolled upward to form a head that reminded Peter of Frankenstein. The monster was massive; it blocked out the sun. It raised its massive foot and brought it down on Donna and a few other co-workers. It raised its massive foot, revealing a pile of blood and gore.

Chaos had broken out throughout the beach. People were running for the main road, others making a break for the ocean as the massive Monster of Trash thrashed and swiped. Bodies soared through the sky, some finding solace with the waters, others smearing across the pavement. Peter felt Brian's arms wrap around his arm as they made a mad dash through the beach, through the madness. The massive shadow swallowed them whole; its deafening roar made Peter's head swirl. He didn't dare turn around; he couldn't bring himself to do so, but he could feel the air swoosh around him, and then he felt the fierce impact of the monster's paw.

He lost track of Brian, lost track of the ocean and the world around him. The beach got further and further away, as Peter soared through the sky, before falling lifelessly into the abyss of the ocean. The Monster of Trash's bellowing roar faded as he slipped into darkness.