Steps creaked. The house was foreboding.
I wouldn’t have come, but my brother said She would meet me here.
As I rubbed the dirt aside to peer in the window, a bloodcurdling screech sounded behind me. Adrenaline shot through me. I jumped and whirled, fist connecting.
My brother lay unmoving.
Trina Krieger is an artist struggling to write her memoir. When the process gets overwhelming, she writes urban fantasy instead.
A.L.Y.S. the android had just punched a hole in the front door while practicing the human tradition of knocking.
“Next time,” Dr. Snyder, her creator, scolded through the door, “just use the doorbell!”
Unperturbed, A.L.Y.S. noticed the tiny white button and punched it, creating a hole in the door frame.
This is the first in a series of seven stories from King Kool, who has previously contributed the Bumbling Magician and Kissing Frog series.
“I’m going to kick you in the face!”
Jeffrey was being accosted by the class bully again. He rolled his eyes. “How are you gonna do that? You can’t get your foot above your waist.”
“Then I’m gonna punch you in the face!”
“Oh,” said Jeffrey. “I guess that’ll work.”
“Ok, let’s work on your quick, short punches and your wordplay. You’re going to be the best boxing comedian there’s ever been!”
Gurpreet paused. “I don’t know,” he said. “I’m not sure I can ever be stronger and wittier than Youssef.”
“Nonsense,” cried his trainer. “He’s good, but you’re Punjabi.”
If you don’t get it, leave a comment!
He appeared out of the shadows. “Money,” he demanded, his knife cutting down the need for explanatory conversation.
Panicking, I explained I had no job, no life, and definitely no money. He apologised for bothering me and left.
I punched the air happily. The air took it like a man.
This week’s guest story comes from Jamie Middleton. He declined to attach a tagline or description of himself, which leads me to believe that he is either celebrity, a secret agent, or both. Rock on, Jamie!
“Thank you, thank you. I’ll be here all night!”
“Get off the stage!”
“What, you wanna start something?”
“That’s right! Fight me, funny man!”
They fought. The comedian won.
“Go ahead,” said the heckler. “Make a joke at my expense.”
The comedian shrugged. “I don’t want to ruin the punchline.”
Editor’s Note: This story originally resulted in the police breaking up the fight, but I decided that using that ending would be too much of a cop-out.