comedy

Flash Fiction: Flying Gate

I looked up at the director
“Boss, this is the fifth time I’ve set up the gate and fence.”
The director looked at me callously.
“The shot wasn’t right. So, you do your job and I will do mine, to get the perfect take. Okay?”
He turned around before I could reply. The gate and fence were ready to be destroyed all over again. The director shouted at the stunt driver.
“Get in the van and do it right this time.”
I knew exactly where the stunt driver was hoping the soon-to-be-flying gate would land.

I agreed with his sentiments.


Word Count: 100

Prompt:

Kreative Kue 227

Flash Fiction: Childhood Revisited

Alcohol makes humans do weird things.

I guess, after a point, we just want to feel young again. Alcohol helps with that. A few pegs down, my neighbours begin to think that they are young men and women. Once the booze really begins to flow, they begin revisiting their childhood. They are at it right now. I can see them holding on to each other and I can hear them making choo choo sounds – a human train. There goes the train, picking up speed. Okay, I think I need to be out there.

These old trains tend to derail faster…


Word Count: 100

Prompt:

Friday Fictioneers 30th August, 2019

Microfiction: Wires

This is tricky.

There are way too many wires here. Which one do I cut to defuse the bomb? Well, the manual says I should cut the red one. But, there are two red wires here. The contingency calls for cutting the green wire. There isn’t one! Think..Think. Got it! Green is a mixture of blue and yellow. I should cut those wires together. One…Two…Three…

*snip*

*beep beep boop boop BOOM*

“Trainee, if that was a real life situation, we would all have been blown to smithereens. You fail this test!”

Crap…


Prompt:

Kreative Kue #226

Twittering Tale: Their Culture

“Oh God! Are we really going there?”
Yup.
“You realise they are uneducated tribals right?”
Yes. Very little is known about them. We can learn and share their culture with the world.
*2 hours later*
“Is keeping us locked in cages a part of their culture?!”
So is cannibalism, I’m sure…


Character Count: 28

Prompt:

Twittering Tales #148 – August 6, 2019

Photo by David Reed

Flash Fiction: Not Santa Claus

I saw mummy kissing Santa Claus. I did. Well, not Santa, but some fat bearded dude, who wasn’t my dad…

It wasn’t a Christmas night. I was just a little boy and I had been tucked into bed by my mum and dad. I had awoken in the night to visit the washroom. I was walking past my parent’s bedroom when I decided to peek inside. It was kind of dark, but to my shock, I saw the act with my eyes. The man looked like Santa Claus, complete with a long white beard and the red overalls. I could not spot my dad in the room. I was too shocked to say anything and I went back to my room. I never spoke about it, but I remembered.

Many years later, during a particularly boozy lunch with my parents, the discussion had taken a christmas turn. Encouraged by my buzz, I blurted out what I had seen as a kid. I saw my mother’s eyes widen in shock and a wide grin appear on dad’s face.

That day I learnt about mum’s Santa fetish…


Word Count: 185

Prompt given by Ritu Bhatal as a part of the FTS Project 2.0

Twittering Tale: Midnight Snack

I hate this.

These midnight hunger pangs are the worst. I have to get out from my cozy bed and go all the way to the kitchen, in darkness, because I don’t want to disturb my sleepy eyes. It’s scary. What if there’s something in the shadows?

And even worse, what if it wants my food?


Character Count: 280

Prompt:

Twittering Tales #136 – 14 May 2019

Flash Fiction: Heritage Site

This was one boring vacation.

I looked at my wife staring at the stone houses in awe. The tour guide resumed his rehearsed speech.

Many hundred years ago, these houses were the homes of the Inca tribes native to this area. In the fifteenth century, they were the dominant power in this area. Then their civilization crumbled because of continuous wars, and their only memories remain these houses you see ahead. A traditional Inca warrior dressed in…

My wife cut in.

“..Colorful ponchos and carried a large spear with them.”

Very good, madam. I must say you know your history well.

“Oh not at all. I’m just describing your actor over there. See, more actors and coming and they’re raising their spears in greeting.”

What actors, madam?

I grabbed my wife’s hand, pulled her towards me and began running away, just as a volley of spears whizzed over our heads…


Word Count: 150

Prompt:

Historical Fiction Prompt by Nova

Flash Fiction: Unexpected Walk

“You know, it was unexpectedly nice, this walk.”

He looked at her with a quizzical expression.

“Why unexpected?”

She laughed nervously.

“Well, because of what I had heard about you from here and there.”

He narrowed his eyes.

“And what had you heard from here and there?”

She blushed slightly and gave his hand a gentle squeeze.

“Oh, nothing! Just that you are kind of weird.”

He laughed.

“Oh am I, then?”

She smiled as she hugged him.

“Not at all. I am glad you picked this path to walk on. These vines make such a beautiful archway.”

“Ummm..vines?”

She screamed out loud upon making the serpentine discovery, before running helter-skelter…


Word Count: 111

Prompts:

Sunday Photo Fiction – January 27, 2019

Weekend Writing Prompt #91 – Helter-Skelter