Humor
Death Inc.
Technically, Jerry Carroll had been dead for seven days now. That was, dead in every conventional medical sense of the word anyway. It had all come as a bit of a shock to him, as you would imagine. Firstly, he had been somewhat down on his luck anyway, but being killed had really been a downer. Secondly, his death had been a huge mistake and it should have been someone else who’d copped it. He attempted a heavy sigh as he pondered this, but it sounded more like he was blowing a raspberry, as the flap of skin where his throat had been cut vibrated noisily in the escaping rush of air. Typically, he had been in the wrong place at the wrong time and had gotten involved with the wrong people. There was no denying he had been involved with some slightly dodgy dealings but had never intentionally hurt anyone and certainly didn’t deserve this. It should have been one of the other couriers, Al the Snake, who went on this particular delivery. Admittedly his memory was patchy at best; but now it was cracking up like an iceberg drifting further and further into warm waters.
By Phil Tennant4 years ago in Fiction
We'll Go Down In History
Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer had a very shiny nose And if you ever saw him, you would even say it glows However, due to his difference from the established norms Poor Rudolph was forced to live the life of a recluse from his oppressors Who saw no purpose for him until such a time as was convenient For them to achieve their own Capitalist goals But thankfully Rudolph had spent his formative years reading Marx and Engels And was eager to throw off the yoke of oppression once and for all…
By R P Gibson4 years ago in Fiction
Well-formed Females
Day 1 It had been approximately one year since their last camping trip, and in that time everything and nothing had changed. It was typically the nothing that sparked intense conversation among the women, focusing on the irony and idiosyncrasies of adult life. The commonality of shared values and perspectives brought them together and would strengthen their bond over the years. For example, it was agreed upon that under no circumstance should one put their exposed feet up near an airplane window. This kind of behavior warrants public shaming, or at the very least a sneakily taken photo for Instagram with the caption “really tho?”
By Erin Bailey4 years ago in Fiction
A North Pole murder
Detective Biggles surveyed the area. The room had been thoroughly trashed and laying there in the middle was the body of Scampy, manager of the electronic toy division. Biggles walked over to where the elf lay. The elf’s back was riddled with sharpened candy canes. The detective leaned in to get an even closer look. “Hm,” he thought to himself, “very sloppy, amateurish… this was someone’s first stab at murder.” Officer Nettles sidled up to the detective. He had taken Nettles under his wing, sensing real potential in her as a detective on the North Pole Police force. “What do you see, Nettles?” Detective Biggles asked. “I think Scampy was targeted,” she posited, “but this was clearly not a professional hit.” Biggles allowed himself a smile. “Good eye,” he complimented as he stood back up, “Now what?”
By Lloyd Farley4 years ago in Fiction
“THE EXORCISM OF MICHAEL BLACKBURN”
“THE EXORCISM OF MICHAEL BLACKBURN” The feeling that ran through my body as I read the invitation I had received was that of excitement and anxiousness. It was a formal birthday party invitation from my good friend Ben. Back twenty five years ago receiving a hand delivered card with details of a birthday celebration was the equivalent of being invited to the Rothschild's Surrealist Ball, you were in, and you were elite. You knew you could live free from the shackles that our parents placed on us even if it was for only an afternoon. But this party would be different, this party was a sleepover.
By Doug Radmore4 years ago in Fiction
The Senator's (ex) Wife
Ellie Worthington woke with a start. She was vaguely aware of a loud, relentless noise. She was acutely aware that her head felt like an anvil was sitting on it. “Ooooh,” Ellie said as she placed her palm to her forehead. As she sat up, it became clear to her that the noise was her phone. She would have ignored it entirely if the ringing wasn’t piercing through her like a hot knife through butter. Ellie fumbled for the phone receiver on her nightstand.
By Erika Williams4 years ago in Fiction
Yes, I want your investment but I’d also appreciate you helping me recapture these clones.
Thanks for meeting with me today, and I apologize for running a little bit late. Better late than never, right? Unless you’d rather I’d have not shown up at all, what with the clones escaping in your lobby.
By Briane Pagel4 years ago in Fiction
