Tales of humour, whimsy and courgettes
“I can’t stand the loud ones,” sighed Reala.
“Neither can I,” replied Hydra. “That’s why I make my own.”
“You make your own fireworks?” gasped Yuffie.
“Oh yeah,” replied Hydra. “I mean, on the one hand, home-made fireworks are a blast!”
“And on the other hand?” asked Reala.
“I only have two fingers,” sighed Hydra.
Original photo by Timothy Rhyne on Unsplash
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“It just drives me mad,” squawked Fuen.
“All the feels,” said Reala.
“I mean I get it,” sighed Fuen. “It just annoys me when people seek constant reassurance.”
“Mmmhmm,” replied Reala.
“Do ya know what I mean?” grouched Fuen.
Reala, raised an eyebrow. Then poured another drink. “Yup.”
Photo by Edi Libedinsky on Unsplash
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“Got a pretty good vocabulary though,” said Clouds.
“I’ve never been able to spell or pronounce ‘mileniuimumn,’” sighed Hydra.
“Funny thing,” sighed Clouds. “I can never spell ‘icy.’”
“Well,” replied Hydra. “I see why.”
Original photo by Filip Mroz on Unsplash
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“It’d give me a rush, you know?” lamented Hydra.
“I used to get such a thrill out racing hedgehogs,” sighed Red.
“I used to get a thrill out of stealing kitchen utensils,” sighed Sprite.
Red and Hydra turned to Sprite, awaiting further explanation.
“Tells ya,” said Sprite. “I was a real whisk taker.”
Original photo by Camylla Battani on Unsplash
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“I couldn’t believe it,” said Spectre.
“I can imagine,” replied Clouds.
“Then she accused me of having an affair with Shlothmagrothadikiflooflarbinban!” cried Spectre.
“The fiend,” gasped Clouds. “How could she say such a thing?”
Original photo by KenrickMills on Unsplash
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“God, no,” said Yuffie. “Imagine what it’d do to the carpets.”
“What’s that?” asked Fuen, arriving in the middle of a conversation.
“Yuffie here, won’t let a homeless sentient water basin use her spare room,” replied Lucy.
“I’ll let that just sink in,” snorted Yuffie.
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“My missus hates it when I mess with her red wine,” remarked Spectre.
“Oh, aye?” asked Sprite. “What’d you do to it?”
“Oh, I just mixed in some orange juice and fruit lumps,” said Spectre.
“Darn, man,” said Sprite. “That ain’t on, bruv.”
“I know,” sighed Spectre. “Now she’s sangria than ever.”
Boom! Haha, get it? GET IT? Bwaha.
I need better lighting of course, but playing about with videos this week. That works a lot better than I thought.
Original photo by Helena Yankovska on Unsplash
George tumbled through the door onto the roof. He could hear the shuffling of feet on the stairs below.
Why?” asked George.
“Oh, we all get our kicks somehow,” sighed Lucy. “That, and my ex-tells me I should channel my hobbies into doing more good for the world.”
“And this is doing good?” cried George.
“Yes, well,” replied Lucy. “But, maybe not for you.”
George looked over the edge at the stained pathways below. The stairwell door creaked open.
“Nearly there,” grinned Lucy. “And who’s this?”
“My window cleaner,” grimaced George.
“Thought he was banging your wife right?” said Lucy.
“I thought so, yes,” sighed George.
“Thought so?” asked Lucy. “Shame you changed your mind after he’d taken a tumble through the sixth-floor window.”
The window cleaner squirted Windowlene into Georges’ face and gave him a buff and shine.
“Oh and look at all the glass stuck in his backside,” laughed Lucy. “Hey, I bet that’s a right pane in the arse!”
“Up, up, up,” said Lucy, pulling him up to the next floor.
George stumbled through the door. “My god, this is my old kitchen,” he pondered.
“Ah, the wifey loved this room,” said Lucy. “ She was lovely wasn’t she?”
George glared at Lucy. “She tells me the kitchen table was the first place you two did the business.”
“She’s not…” muttered George.
“Here?” grinned Lucy. “Of course. She’s still in the pantry.”
A moan came from behind the door, George retreated to the stairwell.
“Do you know, the first time I had sex was with my first missus was in her parents’ kitchen,” sighed Lucy. “’This is awkward,’ she said. ‘Just ignore them’ I replied.”
The pantry door burst open, Georges wife emerged wielding her kitchen utensils.
This story originally came from some darker puns between Lucy and Yuffies meeting in the Grey Moon that felt out of context in that storyline. By Spectres beard, I just ain’t feeling it this week, though! Not happy with the quality of writing, humour or story. And I’ve ended up not using the original puns. Doh’eth.
But hey, the bright side. I have a growing library of sound effects. I’m overusing them something rotten this week, but it’s the learning to use them, innit.
Oh, and hey, it’s getting near Crimbo. If you enjoyed Grey Moons story or my old original horrors covering Capricorn, don’t forget they’re available in a lovely smellin paperback available on Amazon. They’d make a fab Christmas gift! (Linky: https://amzn.to/2PjT7ak )
Little Fears 