The intellectual equivalent of a ham sandwich.

Posts tagged ‘Short Short Story’

Superman – Good for the People?

Metropolis, one of the greatest cities in the world. With a population of about 11 million people (as of the last census), it is, indeed, a thriving metrop … city.

A titan of industry, a center for culture, and a hub for the cutting edge – what’s not to love about Metropolis. Until, that is … that fateful day in 1939.

On that day Superman arrived. Oh, great, Superman!, you may think, he saves people!

Sure, he saves people. But you know what he also does? He attracts trouble like a magic magnet.

Take Robert Turns, a man who owns his own vacuum repair shop in downtown Metropolis. That is, owned his own vacuum repair shop. After Superman arrived the insurance company raised the rates for insuring his building by 48%, a rate that Mr. Turns simply couldn’t keep up with. Superman can’t rescue him from drowning, because he’s just drowning in his sorrows.

Another example is Susana Bishop. Susana was walking her two dogs, Yip and Yap, on a lovely September afternoon. She was at her favorite park enjoying the day. Suddenly Superman slammed into the ground about 500 yards in front of her with such force that his body moved along the earth, causing a trail of destruction. Horrified that Superman was hurt and shocked by the sudden disruption of her beautiful day, Susana stood frozen. Superman, at the time fighting one of countless unpleasant fellows he attracts to our dear city, skid along the earth until he was less than one yard from her body. Susana, regaining her senses, rushed to his aid. Superman thanked her and bolted to continue, and eventually win, his fight. But at what cost? Susana is now afraid to leave her home, isolated in hopes that she won’t run into trouble.

The current count of people out of a home because a Superman fight spilled into an apartment-filled area of town is at 3,487. This is just one small sample of the countless amount of destruction that has come about as a result of Superman’s presence in our dear city.

I ask you, as a mild-mannered reporter, is Superman good for the people? Or should he get out of town for a few years and take a vacation?

Whisper’s What’s What

Step up, shut up and listen up folks because I’ve got a tale to tell. A little less than a bit of time ago I was as open-eyed and curious and full of crum-dumb tomfoolery something or other. But now with Whisper’s What’s What I can see more than the average, I hear more than two ears should be expected to hear, and I can smell what ails you.

And what ails you, dear friends, is a lack of confidence.

And what else ails you?, eh?, I’ll tell you – it’s a lack of memory. And of confidence.

But shh, stare no more at my shirtless, shining, gleaming, muscled up bodice, belly button lint-free I might add: for I am just a representation of what you could be had you a bottle of Whisper’s What What.

How?, what?, for me?, for … free?

FREE! Yes I said the OTHER magic word, not thanks, not skanks, not hi-janks to get you some product seduced by sex and selective feelings of superiority. No, no. This is a guaranteed, bonified to leave you stupefied pro-duct. I wouldn’t emphasize the pro if I didn’t feel confident about Whisper’s What What.

How much, then, hm? How much would you pay to be the shining example, to be the boy, the girl, the man, the woman on the poster? Hm? How much would you pay to be the one people look to in the grocery store thinking, ‘I bet HE knows where they keep the protein bars.’ I ask you – do YOU know where they keep the protein bars?

YOU sir, you with the brown trousers, the two-toned shirt that’s brown on the bottom, green on the top with green sleeves, (you look like a plant), do YOU know where they keep the protein bars?

Oh you do, eh? What’s that? It’s because you had just one sample of Whisper’s What’s What!? Why, just yesterday? My brother must have been out here giving samples! That old scrapperdoodle. I’ll give him a what one, make it two, no three, better make it a what for.

Just a little humor folks. Yes you, like me, could be attracting audiences like this one, up to TWO people at a time! One plant and one confused looking little old lady. Ma’am?

…Oh. Yeah, the Wal-Mart’s up there.

To My Love, From the Attic, With Love

This story is really unfortunate and creepy for this woman, so for that reason I feel bad writing an (attempt at) funny post based on this. But, obviously, not so bad that I’m not here writing it.

The story is: A woman in North Carolina lives with her kids, and she heard a noise in the attic. Thinking it was an animal she sent her eldest and one of her nephews to check it out and … not an animal, but her ex-boyfriend. An ex-boyfriend from TWELVE years ago! He had been released from prison two weeks ago and decided to take up residence in her attic.

They found coats and such he used to pack in there to create a nice little bedroom. And, how lovely, cups of feces and urine, because nature calls.

Now, for your cringing, my guess as to his inner-journal.


August 27 – I’m so psyched to get out of prison! This place is the worst! It smells gross, there’s no privacy, the food is tolerable at best (except for Mash Mondays, when we watch Mash while eating). I think, most of all, I’m excited to see my beautiful ex. I haven’t figured out yet how to win her back … I know it’s been twelve years … but she’s so beautiful! How could I not at least try!? I’d hate myself forever for that.

It’s ridiculous but prison has changed me into a better man … Not because of anything they did, but because I want her back. And keeping me from her? – well, that’s a reason to change.

August 28 – I got to her place. The memories came flooding back! I can’t wait to surprise her! I went to knock on the door but got all nervous, and had to hide when I heard her coming to the door. What do I say? “Hey … I’ve missed you like crazy … I can do 200 push-ups in one sitting, now. Wanna see?” Hey, that’s actually pretty good.

August 31 – Hm. Things took a turn today. Sometimes I make a fairly innocent bad decision, and then I feel stuck, and I end up making a few more bad decisions. It’s not a good thing, I know, but it could happen to anyone.

I came up to her house to knock on her door. I was so nervous. But then I did it! I finally did it! I was there, waiting for her to come to the door when I heard a car coming up. It was her! Oh my GOD! I didn’t expect this … I had been practicing in my head for her to open the door and greet me … and … and then I’d make a speech on the porch and she’d take me back … This was all wrong for her to be on the driveway, so I took the nearest exit – which was inside the house.

Guys, I’m in her attic. I’m just waiting it out though, she’ll leave and I’ll run outside and try again.

September 1 – Oh man oh man oh man I have to go to the bathroom so bad I can’t focus. Don’t these people EVER LEAVE?

September 4 – Time has been moving by pretty quickly here. This is a crazy household! Kids running around, the mom (my love) yelling at them, cooking up some good food, me sneaking down when they’re all asleep to get food and more jars to poop in. It’s great. Every once and a while I picture me down there, with them, being a dad and husband. It’s beautiful. I wish I had grabbed some lids for those jars though. Talk about stinky.

September 6 – “Heya dad!”
“Heya son!”
“How was your day?”
“Oh, the usual grind, son. I went to work, accomplished stuff. Came home and brought your mom some flowers.”
“She’ll love them, dad! They’re nice!”
“Thanks son.”
“Boy you’ve come a long way from that time you were secretly living in our attic, and then you fell through the ceiling during dinner, and mom looked so angry but then she just started laughing … and we all were laughing, and she just said, ‘I’ve missed you.’ And you said, ‘I’ve missed you too.’ And then she said, ‘Apparently you haven’t missed deodorant!’ That was so funny, dad!”
“Yeah, son, yeah it was …”

I’ve been picturing the future … and it goes like that. I change it up some, though. I haven’t decided yet how I’m going to leave the attic and re-introduce love.

September 7 – I can hold my breath for what I think is about two minutes. And then I sort of pass out for a while. It helps me deal with the stink.

September 8 – WAIT A MINUTE! Newsflash! When I sneak downstairs to steal food I should also use the bathroom! MAN! This is revolutionary.

September 9 – You know what seems like a lot of work? Raising kids. Having a job. Taking care of a wife. Doing stuff. You know what I know for a fact is NOT a lot of work? Pooping in jars and sleeping in an attic. I’m having second thoughts here.

September 10 – Sorry about yesterday … I wasn’t myself. I do want her back. I want to LIVE LIFE! I also want to shower. I’m going to start practicing my grand take me back speech. Here are the ingredients:

150 push-ups (don’t put it all out there right away)
200 sit-ups
a poem that has her name in it and rhymes
a talk about how I have grown up (don’t slip up and mention the attic thing)
a talk about how much I will do for her (exaggeration is key)

September 11 – I was just practicing and … oh crap … I think they heard me …

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