Humor
The Waiting Room
Riley deep-fried everything at Uncle Louis’s Eatery. Of course, there were the typical deep-fried items on the menu: french fries, chicken wings, corn dogs. But, when the restaurant was empty and our manager decided to clock out early, Riley would get creative in the back of the house. Have you ever tried a deep-fried cheeseburger? Or scoops of fried potato salad, smothered in ranch dressing? Riley was a connoisseur for all things battered and fried.
By Regan Riehl4 years ago in Fiction
Scott CEO Psycho
By now, many have heard the recent news of Scott Paper Towel CEO Jasmine Scott, formerly Jasmine Dretzel, and her psychotic break which resulted in the Dyson-Scott merger that occurred earlier this week. The following leaked emails are from the week before she attempted to burn down her factory with a single match.
By Britt Garman4 years ago in Fiction
Getting Killed for a Living
“Infiltration scenario number 197 take seven,” Supervisor Jenny shouts over the PA speakers that line the edge of the warehouse dome. It’s cold today. They must have shut off the heat to save money. They’re worried for sure, no more screw ups. “Cannon fodder, Grunts, Henchmen, Henchwomen…no that doesn’t sound right. From now on Henchmen is the unisex denomination for our highest level employees understood?”
By Rafe Kaplan4 years ago in Fiction
Shoplifting in the Time of Covid
The Mall was busy. The carpark quite full. She slipped into the large department store, her old friend. "Hello, old friend" she said to no-one in particular. No-one noticed her, this nondescript young woman, wearing jeans and a white t-shirt, the current uniform. She also wore the three layer disposable mask, worn by most, in these desperate days of Covid. Cat was happy, these were bumper days for Cat the shoplifter. Customers milled about, staff were few and there were rows and rows of delightful stock for the picking. Women's clothing was the easiest. The odd salesperson was safely tucked behind the checkout counter. There was yet another sale on. There were always sales now... worried store owners were anxious to move the goods and keep their doors open. A sales lady gave Cat a friendly wave and smile from behind her mask, as she served one of the women, waiting in line ...."Can I help? I 'll be with you in a minute". Cat smiled and waved back: ” No problem, I'm just browsing". Browsing...she grinned from behind her mask, circling the enticing goods like a hungry shark. She avoided the high- end stuff, the designer goods, they were likely to be missed first. She zeroed in on the mid price goods, something a little unusual, a new look, likely to attract her customers. She largely sold online….plenty of options - online sales lists and social media market places. Sometimes she’d take a stall at a live, open air market. Summertime was her best season. The clothes were light, easy to hide, in her fashionable, large tote bag. Thank goodness for fashion and all the ‘wannabees’ desire to be like their media idols. Their greed was her driver. Too bad Kate Spade had died, her designs were the best. Jewellery was good pickings, but very tricky - you had to do that, when the staff were really busy on the other side of the counter - again, she never took high end stuff. That was locked away, anyway. Cat took a large collection of pretty tops and skirts from the rack, and disappeared into the empty changing rooms. There she lingered, even tried on a couple of things and then took most of them out again, hanging them on the rail for the unwanted goods, in full view of the salesperson . She waved again, saying "thank you, not for me". The salesperson waved back: "come again!” " I will" waved Cat - she thought to herself “I definitely will”, as she slid quietly out with a few very nice finds, stashed in her expensive bag. Cat had always been a bit of impulse buyer, until her Dad decided that she was spending far too much on his credit card. “Kitten”, he said “you’re getting too greedy, with my money”. That was the moment he let her into the secret of his success in business. Dad was a thief, not small-time stuff like shop lifting, but much bigger, more serious crime - smuggling liquor and hi-jacking trucks. Although, he told her, it was getting more difficult now, with all the sophisticated technology to prevent crime. The satellite spotting and engine immobilisers. Still, he said, she was smart, looked good, not “scaggy” like some low-lifes. She had had to look up that word “scaggy” - no she definitely did not want to look like that, so she always made an effort to look nice, respectable. “You could be quite a success at shop-lifting” said Dad. And so she was. It was a nice little earner, until she could finish her on-line college degree and look for something more acceptable to earn her living. Something in finance had its appeal. Who knew where that might lead her? “Prison, probably”, said Dad. She ignored him. She sauntered out to the enormous car park. She always knew exactly where she had parked just in case she had to make a quick get-away. She clicked her car tag, there was no answering friendly “beep”. Cat clicked again - nothing. She walked over to where she had parked her car and stared at the empty space. And stared again - there was no car. She looked around, hoping she had made a mistake. But she knew she hadn’t, the car was gone. Someone had stolen her lovely little love-bug!
By Jane Merrow4 years ago in Fiction
The Road, Testily Traveled
It was the Year of Our Lord 1989, and I had made the dubious decision to leave my now famous hometown in the San Francisco Bay Area. 19-year-old me was convinced that relocating to a small town in Pennsylvania (with a name so ridiculous I daren’t reveal it) was a viable plan, mostly because, well, there was a guy involved. Given that it would be years before either the internet or cell phones would become a “thing”, we met by way of a mutual friend’s underground ‘zine. The fact that we broke up 2 years later and have had no contact whatsoever in nearly three decades only underscores the indispensability of fully developed planning and decision-making skills, which I’m proud to say I have now honed, at least somewhat.
By Meigan Carson 4 years ago in Fiction
A Former Superhero Chapter 3: Planet Gaxi Supply Run
Jeremiah is now entering Planet Gaxi’s atmosphere and sees the grand futuristic city that is the capital of the planet with the palace that looks like a gigantic spire smack dab in the middle of the capital. The familiar scenery reminds him of his old friends, Tech Boy and Tech Girl and he flashbacks to their untimely demises.
By Jeremiah Ellison4 years ago in Fiction
The Factory
Resting at the very top of the Minamax building, looking out over a grey sea of rooftops, was a very important room. This was a room where decisions were made and strategies were formed. Being an important room, it was filled with important people, important papers and very important diagrams on a large and important-looking whiteboard. Today the whiteboard showed a box with four quadrants. One contained a crudely drawn dog; another, a question mark; the third, a cow; and the fourth, a star.
By Yvette Absalom4 years ago in Fiction
Underwear, Outerwear & Travel
I hate packing. In fact, packing and procrastination go hand in hand in my book. Worse still, packing becomes more tedious with age. Let's face it, you grow older and as such, require more external assistance to simply get through your day. What do you need to pack as a carefree twenty-one year old? A smile, LBD, credit card, inherent lightness of being and a clean pair of underwear (the latter being optional dependent on how sunny your disposition is). In turn, packing in your thirties becomes harder still with the stress of kids and their essential items. This includes nappies, spare clothes, ear plugs and Polaramine for both Mum and baby alike.
By Jaimmy Hountalas4 years ago in Fiction
