A man, celebrating the long-deserved victory of his favorite football team, bounded out of the dimly lit tavern and into the street. He raised his hands in the air and proclaimed to the heavens the thrill and excitement of witnessing such an historic achievement.
He was hit by a bus.
This guest story was written by Brice Puls. He blogs at http://onedecentguy.wordpress.com.
“We’re going blue!”
“I’m taking sniper!”
“Round’s starting!”
“Rush left! Go go go!”
“Scout behind us!”
“I have the flag! Need a medic!”
“Boom! Headshot! Owned!”
“That’s the round, boys!”
Assailed by fatigue and feeling the effects of a rolling series of sugar highs, the bloodshot, beer-soaked digital warriors persevered.
Heaven sighed.
She said, “Everything I do… I do it for you. Straight from the heart.”
So far, so good, he thought.
“Do I have to say the words? There’s somebody else. Please forgive me. This time it’s only love.”
He cried, “It cuts like a knife!”
They were soulmates.
Editor: There are eight song titles and one album title in this story. Can you identify them all? And do you know which musician performed the album?
Editor: With some recent discussion on how submissions are handled at FiftyWordStories.com, in terms of copyright and ownership, I felt this fifty-word story/essay submitted by Mike Vardy was relevant. I’d love to hear your thoughts on the subject!
Existing work inspires my best creative work. The inspiring work seems to come in pairs: I watched an episode of Behind The Music followed by The Rutles, and an idea was born; I was thinking about productivity and watched The Colbert Report, and an idea was born.
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Mike Vardy lives in Victoria, BC, with his wife, Anne, and daughter, Grace. He has contributed to CBC Radio, both as a writer and performer, and is the creator of the personal productivity parody site, Effing The Dog. He also co-hosts DyscultureD, a weekly podcast that “dyscusses and dysects” pop culture of the past and present with a very Canadian flavo(u)r.
The runners toed the line and prepared for the firing of the gun. Muscles tense, they tried to clear their minds and relax. Many years of blood, sweat, and tears had led to this moment. They felt woefully unprepared.
Then—
BANG!
They fell, their wish for freedom finally, permanently granted.
The foreman scribbled calculations on his clipboard. “We’ve done it before, but never on this scale.”
“Cost is unimportant,” said the king, opening his wallet. “She wants it done, so it must be done.”
The foreman nodded understandingly. “If she says ‘move the castle,’ then you better castle queen side.”
Editor’s Note: This story was based on a call on Twitter for two nouns and a verb. @davefp responded with castle (noun), wallet, and castle (verb, as in chess).
Twelve ravens watched as the door of the farmhouse opened and a grime-smeared figure emerged.
His left leg was steel and pistons; steam whiffed out of the joints as he moved. A shotgun was mounted along his handless right forearm.
“Death, death, raawk!” croaked the ravens.
Cyborg George laughed aloud.
Harvey the hamster skidded on the hardwood floor, rounding the corner at high speed–hunting speed. Just ahead, his prey scrambled desperately towards the carpet, where Harvey’s plastic hamster-ball would lose its superior maneuverability.
Harvey ran faster. There would be no escape this time!
With a heavy thud, they collided.
The lumberjack swung his mighty axe, hewing the trunk of the towering Douglas Fir.
O! Would he ever see her again? Her plaid jacket, her ruddy cheeks, the long, luxurious, curly hair that graced her pretty head and legs?
With a heart full of longing, he cried her name: “Timber!”
A guy walks into a bar. He saunters towards a group of girls and sends a nonchalant scowl in their direction. He suavely turns his head to the nearest girl and winks.
He says to the bartender, “I’ll have what she’s having.”
The bartender says, “One Pink Lady, coming up.”
This guest story was written by Sonia Sayani. Sonia is, in her own words, “but an eternally something-to-do-searching Canadian with a computer.”