Gregor went to bed one night and woke up as a giant clumsy bug.
His family freaked out and locked him in his room. His little sister fed him garbage.
He scared some old guys and someone threw an apple at him which got stuck in his back.
He died.
This story is a microfiction treatment of Franz Kafka’s classic novella, The Metamorphosis.
At the end of the first season of their reality TV series, the members of Hephty Rithums gathered their producers and kru together to celebrate.
They had lobster, steak, caviar, champagne, and a dunk tank full of money, just because.
They offered to perform a song, but were politely declined.
Pressing onward, they overcame Mother Nature’s fiercest defenses and emerged victorious atop the mighty mountain.
“I saw it first!” said Louis.
“No way. I got here before you!” said Carol.
They fenced with their flagpoles, but they were too evenly matched, so they descended the mountain and started over.
When Hayley and Greg were little, they played Make-Believe.
First, they pretended to get married.
Second, they pretended Hayley was pregnant, though they didn’t know how it happened.
Third, Greg did an emergency Caesarean-section on Hayley with a steak knife.
When they grew up, they did it all for real.
“Now to Tom, with heart-wrenching news.”
“Thanks, Sarah. A man is feared dead after telling his girlfriend he was ‘going to play video games all day’ and that ‘nothing could stop him.’ His home collapsed in the earthquake this afternoon. We have Jack Thompson on the phone for a reaction.”
“Do you expect me to talk?” scoffed Evan Edgelow.
“No, Mr. Edgelow,” said Dr. Maisoui, “I expect you to shout.” He pressed a button. The laser-light machine was very loud.
Edgelow only smirked as Timothy Thicke crept up behind the doctor, hit him with a potted plant, and shrugged modestly.
“There’s so much to do, and so little time to do it all in!”
“That’s the whole point, though! It’s what makes life fun!”
“I never said I wanted fun. Never said I wanted life, either.”
“Don’t be a spoil sport. Eighty years, maybe ninety, and we can go home again.”
“If I ever turn into a vampire, will you kill me?”
“Sure thing, babe.”
“I wouldn’t want you to, you know. I’d want to bite you so you became a vampire, too.”
“I know, babe.”
“Then we’d become vampires together! We might really enjoy that.”
“You’re one already, aren’t you?”
The clock ticked and tocked.
“We must come to a decision quickly!” the professor implored them.
“A vote!” cried Vincent.
Six ayes; three nays.
“The ayes have it,” said the professor. “We shall spread our toast with strawberry preserves. Vincent, make the preparations.”
But fate dictated other arrangements: peanut butter.
Gregory Plymouth poked his head into little caves and lifted leaves so he could peer underneath. He was an Explorer, and, dang it, he was going to discover something.
“Any luck?” asked a voice behind Gregory.
He thought he’d imagined it, so he didn’t meet the undiscovered Havarkian Talking Frog.