“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.
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.
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.
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.
“Eat your rice pudding, young man!”
“I don’ wanna!”
“Eat it all up, or you won’t get any ninja turtles!”
“But Mooooooooooom…”
“I’ll tell the store to never let you have a Donatello ever!”
That did it. Little Billy ate rice pudding every day for the rest of his life.
Was it left first, and then right, or was it right first? Hmm. Let’s try left first. Lift; swing forward; now what? Heel or toe? How was this thing supposed to bend?
No matter how much he practiced walking, Sully couldn’t help but feel that he was doing it wrong.
This story is based on a title suggested by @davefp.
It didn’t take long for Mr. McFitzwilliamson to prove that swimming in a pool full of coins didn’t work. A pool of twenty-dollar bills left him covered in paper cuts.
So he melted down all of his loonies and swam in that.
He’d never really understood the laws of thermodynamics.
This story was based on a title provided by @Vigafray.
He’d purchased the seventy-five foot yacht on a whim. With a fortune like his, such a toy was a trifle.
The first time he took it out, he “accidentally” ran over three sailboats and threw some lawyers overboard to handle it.
Bartholomew Regis Alberto Tanardier never thought about his initials.
@Charles_Mor told me to write a story about boats, so I did.
She was charming, witty, intelligent, and beautiful. I had to ask her out.
“I’m sorry, but I couldn’t do that.”
“Ah. Boyfriend?”
“It’s not that. I’m an NPC. I’m not programmed to move from this spot.”
I paused, stunned. “Oh. That’s terrible.”
She nodded slowly. “I really have to pee.”
Soon to be a student of culinary arts and therefore thrilled that he can call himself an “art student” and act pretentious on a technicality, Bruce Rytel’s hobbies include writing, gaming, and going by a pseudonym. You can read some of his other works of microfiction at The Brevity Cannon.
Editor’s note: An NPC, or non-player character, is a computer-controlled character in a video game.