Tales of humour, whimsy and courgettes
“Hey, Spectre,” said Sprite. “I bought a stick of deodorant the other day.”
“Why?” asked Spectre. “You don’t sweat.”
“I just wanted to see if it made me smell nicer,” sighed Sprite. “I followed the instructions, ‘remove the lid and push up bottom.”
“Well credit where it’s due,” replied Spectre, “Your farts have smelt lovely this week.”
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“I think,” said Turtle, “he’s trying to fill today’s story panel.”
“Or he wants to give people a little lift,” replied Crabs. “What did he write again?”
Turtle picked up the .png file. “Dear readers. You’re awesome, gorgeous, smart, witty and fabulous. I love y’all. Also, your arse looks nice in everything you wear.”
“You’re all wrong,” chimed in Jelly, applying some lipstick. “He’s deffo trying to get laid.”
Or I just wanted to say you’re all awesome and have lovely arses. Imagine how much better the world would be if we stopped ascribing motivations to other people.
Hey, Tumblr, I’m looking at you again!
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“It’s gotta be hard owning a pub on the road to the afterlife,” observed Fuen. “Knowing most of the people that drop in here you’ll likely never see again.”
“That’s not always a bad thing,” sighed Reala. “I’m eager to see the entire 2019 political landscape walk up the road.”
The trio looked laughed and looked outside. They saw three-dozen sprites walking up the road. “That’s not good,” remarked Fuen.
Reala rang the bell for last orders. Pavlov jumped up from his seat, crying out “shit, I forgot to feed the dog.”
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“You and Lucy were an item once, right?” asked Reala.
“They were an item for years,” chimed in Fuen. “Didn’t she ask you out after buying you a bottle of lemonade?”
“That’s right,” laughed Yuffie. “She Schwepped me off my feet.”
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“Have you noticed Lucy doesn’t murder everyone she meets anymore?” pondered Yuffie.
“I did think she was getting more selective,” added Fuen. “She lets innocents live and goes for villains, now.”
“She’s maturing. Just before she left, she passed her driving test,” remarked Yuffie. “I’ll get her something cheap to run around in when she comes home.”
“Like a pair of trainers from the 99p store?” asked Fuen.
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“I had an inventor stop in for a pint a few weeks back,” said Reala.
“Oh, aye,” replied Fuen. “Did she invent anything we might have heard of?”
“The cold air balloon,” said Reala. “It never really took off.”
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“I saw an actor dressed as Peter Pan floating along the road to the afterlife, yesterday,” remarked Reala.
“I know the one,” said Yuffie. “He neverlands.”
“Hah,” snorted Fuen. “Peter Pan puns never grow old.”
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“Don’t give me that tone of face,” said Lucy.
“You’re a killer,” grumbled Meria. “That’s why you’re here.”
“That and because I trashed the wife’s house when she left me for being insecure,” sighed Lucy. “Turns out she’d just gone to get tea bags…”
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“Who the heck is Yuffie?” asked Meria.
“The embodiment of necromancy,” replied Lucy, “and she’s as old as balls.”
“How old?” asked Meria.
“I’m not sure,” pondered Lucy. “But she was there when the greeks named Tuesday. Apparently, they watched the moon go around the earth, and called it a day.”
A quick shout out and thanks to Badger of TheBadgerUnderground for the recent $10 patronage.
Cheers to Bruce Campbell, Kathy & Warren for the continued $10 Patronage. You can find me on Ko Fi, Patreon, Etsy, Amazon, Skillshare and Threadless.
“What is this living nightmare?” cried Meria.
“Exactly what we deserve,” replied Lucy. “Well, you deserve. I’m just on vacation here.”
“You came here by choice?” asked Meria.
“Kind of,” sighed Lucy. “Yuffie sent me here. I killed her ex-girlfriend. Well, I thought I did. Twins are a pain in the arse.”
Shout out and thanks to Debbie of MyMusingMoments this morning, for buying me a cuppa on Ko-Fi yesterday. Cheers, mate.
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Little Fears 