Have you ever wanted to start an urban legend? Join me in my quest to do just that. You can use the stories I've already written below to spread the legend of the Ope Man on different social media platforms or even just amongst your friends, or create your own based on the rules of the Ope Man. You can send the stories you create to info@theopeman.com if you would like them posted to the site or possibly published in a short story collection in the future (you would be contacted for permission before publishing in a collection). I will never ask you for money or sell your information.
The Ope Man can not swear, do drugs/drink, commit violence but other characters can
The Ope Man must wear red plaid in some form ie his traditional long sleeve shirt but could be a bow tie, suspenders, hat, or anything else as long as it is part of his outfit
The Ope Man is a shapeshifter so can have any appearance. Children (or those with childlike innocence) see his true appearance as a tall burly man with brown hair and no facial hair.
The Ope Man has a coffee mug with hot black viscous fluid that everyone assumes is coffee. It is always full no matter how much he drinks. No one else is allowed to touch it. It can appear and disappear at will. There is a Minnesota decal on the mug. The top third is the northern lights, the middle third is a Black Forest and the bottom third is a campfire. All parts have movement
“Good morning, and welcome to the 25th annual Maxwell Lake fishing competition. Get your bait on your hooks and your lines in the water to see who can bring in the biggest fish of the day!” The announcer was cheerful and full of energy for five in the morning as the competitors made their way to their spots. The smell of coffee was in the air and the morning grumbles as everyone greeted each other.
A few minutes into the competition a shout went up, “I caught one!” Said a man in plaid as he pulled on his rod that had a barely perceptible bend to it. The burly man seemed to be putting in a lot of effort, so everyone waited with bated breath that was close by. When the fish came out of the water, it was only a two-inch-long Flathead Catfish. Everyone around him laughed, some out loud while others silently.
The man in plaid seemed proud as he held up his fish. He took it off the hook and put it into the big bucket beside him. He sat down in his chair and started to sip from a steaming mug of coffee that seemed to have appeared out of nowhere. He didn’t rebait his hook. He didn’t put his line back in.
As the day went on, there were more shouts as people landed fish. They were seeming to get bigger and bigger, but still the man in plaid sat sipping his coffee. Some competitors that hadn’t seen him reel in his catch walked by and looked in his bucket. “Wow, what is that, a seven-inch flathead?” One asked and the other competitors around chuckled a little at the joke.
“That fish has got to be three feet long. It’s bigger than my toddler.” Someone said as they looked down into the man in plaid’s bucket. Had the bucket gotten bigger? As the competitors that had been around when the man had landed the fish looked over, the fish splashed its tail and a gallon of water cascaded out.
They exchanged looks with each other. Had the man moved when they weren’t paying attention? Had he gone and bought a fish? Surely, they would’ve noticed if he had landed such a big fish. “And that’s time! Our winner of the day is this gentleman here in the red plaid with the four-foot-long flathead catfish. What is your name sir?”
“I am The Ope Man.”
It was the county fair's annual bag tournament. Eight games were starting at the same time and while he had always wanted to participate, he was hopeless at the game and could never convince anyone to do it with him. He was an embarrassment at every barbeque and grad party when he tried to play.
“It looks like you could use a partner.” A big burly man in plaid said from beside him. “I have to warn you, I haven’t played in a long time. I might be a bit rusty.” The big man clapped a massive hand on his shoulder and nearly sent him to the ground. The gruff laugh was contagious and brought a smile to his face.
“No need to worry about that. If anyone is going to sink us, it’s going to be me.” He told the man in plaid. “I’m about the worst bags player you’ll ever meet.” He wrung his hands. “Just thought you should know before you saddle yourself with me.”
“Each day is a new day.” The man told him. “Sometimes things just work out.”
“That’ll be the day.”
“Competitors to your boards!” The announcer called. They made their way to their first game. Their competition looked like they knew what they were doing. They had matching shirts and everything. He would be the first of their team to go. He lined up his first throw. When he released it, he sneezed and his arm went wild.
He watched the bag soar through the air. It hit the bottom edge of the board and cartwheeled like a throwing star. It worked its way up the ramp until stopped at the edge of the hole. It seemed to pause and think there for a moment before diving into the hole. It was the first time he had even gotten one in the hole.
They won that game with the usual back and forth. During the next game he had thought that someone had called his name during a throw and had turned while throwing. The no look throw had sailed in without touching the board. He hadn’t believed it until someone had shown him the video on their phone. What kind of craziness was going on today?
The semi-finals had him tripping over his own feet at one point. Again, that somehow had the bag going into the hole without touching the board. His partner was also no slouch. Whatever rust he claimed to have had, was nonexistent. The man was making just as many bags on the board and in the hole. He seemed to be doing it with no effort at all.
It was down to the last round at the finals. All his bags were ringed around the hole. He had one bag left and the only way they could win was to get at least two of them in the hole. He didn’t want to let the man in plaid down. He should really learn the man’s name. They had been partnered for a few hours now. He looked at the man who was drinking from a steaming ceramic coffee mug. Wait a minute, where did he get that?
He was looking at the man and thinking about everything other than the game at hand as he wound up and released the bag. It was in the air before he even realized what had happened. It arced up and down and would go straight through the other bags making them lose by just a few points. Just when he was about to lose hope, the bag hit the edge of the board, and all the bags fell into the hole. They had won by a wide margin.
He went over to his partner. “We won!” He said excitedly. It was such a great feeling to finally be good at this game. He couldn’t wait to play with his family at the next gathering. The event staff tapped him on the shoulder to give him the small trophy and when he turned back, his partner was gone. He whispered under his breath, “Who are you?” and he heard a whisper in the back of his brain.
“I am the Ope Man.”