They set out to fight for the sake of fighting. It didn’t matter much to them who was winning when they arrived; they would win when they got there. Guns the size of small ships adorned their hull—this wasn’t even going to be a challenge. Continue reading
Tag Archives: Comedy
Microfiction: The Tactical Explosion
Technically, they did all of it legally. Everyone was moved far enough away that they weren’t in any danger. Businesses and workers and the population of the town were given fair amounts of money for their trouble—so, really, it didn’t feel like the gleeful act of mischief that Herbert wanted it to be. Continue reading
Microfiction: You’re Hired
“Oh, I have someone I pay to do that,” he said, putting up his feet on an oak stool. “They handle all my cooking.”
“He pays really well!” came a shout from the kitchen. Continue reading
Microfiction: That Special Drink
After a moment, after dropping down deep, the wizard Calcif emerged from it with his head swimming. He shook his head from side to side, letting his hair whip around in sharp motions. He rubbed at his eyes; the light hurt them. Continue reading
Microfiction: Talking To A Diety
“When I saw you, the first time, it disgusted me.”
A great thing for a god to say to you.
“But then, well, I saw the point to your meager species.” Continue reading
Microfiction: Eat
“What a delicious meal we have made, full of things and places. A bevy of reality spread forth on our plate, salivating those who can process, stomach, digest the unfathomable. Continue reading
Microfiction: Mic Dropping
Amidst the violence, when the shady deals were just being struck, and the drugs hitting streams of blood at the rate of a brain burst, he plugged in his instrument and warmed up his other physical one. The microphone crackled against his breath, and he sang a few languid notes. Continue reading
Another Link Between Horror And Comedy
Oft-repeated statements highlighting the similarities of horror and comedy in terms of their emotional requirements and polarizing nature aside—there is something they have in common. Something only someone who experiences them a lot would know, or, at least, would know intimately. Continue reading
Flash Fiction: Chips And Dip
Eric could not understand why no one had considered dipping potato chips in ketchup. They were essentially French fries, so there was not much a difference in flavor, not much of an issue—so why didn’t more people do it?
“What, do you love her?” Fae demanded, spreading out her arms. “Do you want to fuck her, huh? Have her over and let her sleep in my spot?” Continue reading
Flash Fiction: Foam Sword
One could not overstate the significance of the foam sword. Perhaps, in the entire history of the room, and the house’s various occupants through the years, the foam sword was the most important thing to ever grace those four walls. For one, it tied the room together nicely; for another, it made several religions with its very presence. Continue reading
Flash Fiction: Bad Days
We all have those days, right? That’s the saying, at least. But, Willow, Willow did not have bad days—she had the worst days. Supernaturally horrible days. Continue reading
Microfiction: Application Process
“Do you really have experience eating babies?”
The demon leaned forward and smoke spewed out from his nose—threatening to set off the sprinkler system.
“Tons.”
“Next.” Continue reading
Microfiction: Retry, Then Retry Some More
All Cynthia wanted was to date this guy. It was her only immediate goal. But the universe decidedly had other ideas in mind. She was not aware of this, of course, not at first, but she got the gist quickly.
For instance, on her way out of her neighborhood, her car exploded underneath her feet. One second her foot pushed down the pedal, and the next a fireball erupted and seared off her everything. Continue reading
Flash Fiction: Unintended Consequences Are For Suckers
In the attic sat a mysterious typewriter. In the attic stood a boy and a girl. All young—except the typewriter. The typewriter was old, as typewriters tend to be.
“So, that’s the one your grandmother talked about?” the boy said, and walked toward it, ducking underneath some webs.
“Yeah—but don’t touch it!” She reached out to stop him but her fingers missed by inches. Continue reading
Microfiction: Rampant Accusations
I cannot do things to people with my mind. Stop asking. It is not the case. Just ask my mother. Do you think she would have grounded me, ever, even considered doing that if I was capable of such things?
You are being absurd. You are being ridiculous. Continue reading
