“You fool of a henchman!” cried the criminal overlord, with a mighty sneeze. “I’m allergic to cats!”
“But he’s such an itty bitty pretty kitty, isn’t he? Such a cutesy snootsy bittle snookums…”
“You fool!” cried the criminal overlord, with a mighty cough. “I’m even more allergic to lovey-dovey gibberish!”
King Rigel watched as the ship drew out of sight.
The officials on board believed themselves bound for the Outer Lands. But the King knew: when the ship passed the base on Vallanger, the royal navy would completely destroy them.
Rigel sat back on his throne. He loved being evil.
Stephen Pester is a student from London with a completely unremarkable life which therefore leaves him stuck to find two sentences to write about myself. He guesses this counts.
Her works were renowned throughout the world. She was a teenaged aardvark sculptor, the greatest that ever lived. She worked with stone, ice, and clay: every medium was her domain, subject to her whims.
She hid in anonymity, each masterpiece a portrait of self-loathing, of her wish for human form.
This story was based on a title suggested by @VikkieTheMimm.
His mighty lungs seethed with an expansive power that rivaled the greatest operatic diva. His inhalations were vortexes. His exhalations were hurricanes.
His breath was like clockwork, a regular, rhythmic, unceasing alternation of perfectly balanced forces.
It was this, alas, that caused his tragic drowning death in the kiddie pool.
This story was based on a title submitted by @inzyster.
“Now I know my ABCs,” crooned the little girl, “next time won’t you sing with me?”
“Awesome!” said Paula Abdul. “You’re going to Vegas!”
“But I wan’ go home!”
“No.”
“Isn’t this exciting, folks?” enthused Ryan Seacrest. “Little Kimmy’s going to be our next finalist on American Idol: Toddler Edition!”
Todd had several seconds to contemplate the feeling of free fall. He was surprised to find that he hadn’t passed out. Maybe he was braver than he’d thought!
The instructor joked, “What would you do if our parachute didn’t open?”
The rest of the descent was warm, wet, and awkward.
She moves past you. You see pain.
He gets on, sits beside her. Both uncomfortable.
An awkward exchange, both speaking at once. He wants to “take care of it.” She acquiesces, nodding silently. He gives her his card.
He disembarks, then she.
You look at the seat. Paper scraps everywhere.
James loves Linux, gaming, and, apparently, fifty-word stories (who knew?). Find him at http://skynet.ie/~program9.
Editor’s Note: I’d love to hear other people’s interpretations of this story. I know what I think it means, but I think it could be understood in a lot of different ways, which is really cool. Offer your explanation by leaving a comment!
Once there was a village of Happies. They loved life!
But the mean Slappies bullied the Happies until they became Unhappies.
One of the Happies awoke the wise Nappies. The Nappies gave some puppies to the Slappies, who loved them so much that they became Sappies.
Then everyone was happy!
I’m glad the Sappies are happy, but hanging out with them can be so uncomfortable. They just sit there and pet their puppies and make cooing noises and talk in baby voices and rub their noses on their puppies’ noses… Blech.
Priscilla the porcupine kept a tidy house. She dusted regularly and opened the windows so she could smell the lavender in the garden.
Hers was an idyllic home.
On Tuesdays she flew a flag and shot at the tax man. The one thing Priscilla loved more than tidiness was freedom.
Normally I try to take prompts from different people, but when @MisterFiendZero gave me this prompt, along with the previous one, I knew I had to go with both.
Slithering, sliding, slipping… Rory the ravenous raccoon eased his way through the gap under the newly painted fence with a patience that belied his urgency.
There! He was through, and scampering into the safety of the woods.
They found Elvis dead that morning. The orange paw prints were never reported.
This story was based on a prompt from @MisterFiendZero.