Short Story of the Silliest Sort

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Silliness

   It was a dark and stormy night. I mean, it was really wet and rainy. There were big puddles outside, and I got my pant legs all wet... well, anyway, it was dark and stormy, and I happened to be craving anchovies and pickles in the worst way. Ah, what to do? I loaded up my car and was just about ready to go when I realized that I didn't know how to drive!

   "Oh shit!" I exclaimes to myself.

   There was only one thing that I could do, and so I went to see my next-door neighbor... and kill him. Armed with only a stick of licorice, I walked through the rain for what must have been 4 or 5 yards (I know, horrendous, isn't it? But don't worry, kiddies, I had a rubber.) and knocked on the old bastard's door.

   "Open up, you old coot!" I demanded.

   He was deaf, and, of course, didn't answer the door. So, I blew it down with a stick of dynamite.

   Turns out he wasn't home, so I began to look through his things, and would you believe he had some very old (and no doubt very valuable) nude pictures of Milton Berle. My lucky day! After confiscating the pictures, (and a few miscellaneous bottle of Absolut vodka) I lit the structure ablaze and ran back to my dungeon.

   Now, far be it from me to let and old man go homeless. After the rubble was cleared, I left a very large cardboard box on his front lawn.

   My good deed for the day done, I returned to my lair to finish embalming my pet goldfish, Fluffy, (This part always chokes me up, he was such a good pet. *Sniff*) but, alas, I had a hole in my bellybutton and could not continue for fear my intestines would fall out. (Don't worry, they never did.. did you know that there is SUPPOSED to be a hole in your bellybutton? Isn't that weird?)

   My day ended with a fablous rerun of the Andy Griffith Show, and my ritual nightcap of motor oil and melted Parkay.

   It was a good day.



THE END



CLOSING NOTE: The old man was okay. It turned out that he had moved to Florida just two days before, and the house was now belonged to a transvestite named Jonomoboo. (He was African-American.) He was a fag anyway, no one will miss him.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Believe it or not, I not only find this to be one of the funniest things I have ever written, I also wrote it completely sober!

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Kristin Dunn's picture

One word for this-What? But that is what I love about you. I enjoyed reading it all the same. For some reason, it reminded me of that one story you wrote. "A man was away on business..."(insert guinea pig squeal)

Raine Meadows's picture

Ah! You truly have a gift for comedy! The bit about the hole in the belly button cracked me up. I can't believe people got offended at the gay part. That was the best--it just totally blew whatever credibility the narrator had left. So funny, Toni. I'll have to read more...

andshedied's picture

very kewl story toe. gave me a chuckle. i liked the part of going over to kill the old coot with only a stick of licorice. your bud, kirk

andshedied's picture

This is one of my favorite stories...for years I wanted to write shit just like this. make people laugh, make people cry, make people say "Oh My God...what the fuck is wrong with you?!?" But alas, the creativity just does not flow through my fingers, as it does yours. But you're a fag anyway, no one will miss you.