Moody

She accuses me all the time of being moody. I’ll show her.

The mood is set. The candles are lit around the steaming, lavender-scented bath, the wine is poured, and the dinner is warming, ready for when she gets out. I’m already in the bath waiting for her to come ho…

There she is! I hear her key in the door! And… who’s she talking to? She brought her good-looking boss home again?

She thought I was moody before! I’ll show her!

Folly

“I don’t understand how it is that the Christmas song ‘Deck the Halls’ was written before Nintendo was invented.”

“Why is that?”

“Well it starts out, ‘Deck the halls with Bowser folly,’ right?”

“Not really, it’s…”

“And then the next line after all the ‘fa la las’ is, ”Tis the seas on tubie jolly,’ which clearly talks about Mario going from island to island through a tube.”

“Oookay. Go on.”

“Right. So the next line is, ‘Don we now our gay apparel.'”

“And how does that relate to the game?”

“Oh come on! Have you seen Mario’s hat? If that’s not gay I don’t know what is. It’s red! Red is a happy colour!”

“I’ll give you that one. Any more?”

“Um, let’s see… what’s the next line. Oh yeah. ‘Troll the henchmen you tied Carol.’ They kinda messed that one up.”

“How so?”

“It should have been Peach, not Carol. Or hey! Maybe her name was originally Carol. What do you think?”

“It’s a mystery.”

Flee – A Limerick

There once was a man who would flee
A store with an armful for free
He dodged the alarm
And with oodles of charm
Sent the cops on a goose-chase, yippee!

Math

“Billy, you can’t give a mystical answer to a math question.”

“But Mr. Johnson, what if the center point of the circumference of ‘A’ did intersect with the center of the universe?”

“Then, Billy, we’d all be obliterated.”

“Exac…”

THE END

Author’s note: My proficiency in Grade 11 math eludes me. But my grammar is up to par…

That Something

“It’s missing something,” Samantha said as she drew the spoon away from her lips and stirred the pot again.

Petra frowned at her. “Did you remember the eye of newt?”

“Of course! It’s the main ingredient.”

“How about the toad toes?”

Samantha snorted. “They were a pain in the ass. Picking all those tiny nails off?”

“You didn’t have to, you know.”

“Normally not. But the little buggers had been to the salon. I didn’t want nail polish in the brew.”

Petra pointed her own sharply filed nail at her friend and winked. “Good thinking.”

“What else might I be missing?”

“No clue. This is what you get for not writing down the recipe when Zelda was still alive.”

“That’s it! She always used to cry a tear into it. What are we going to do?”

Petra squinted. “I think I can squeeze a tear out.”

“No!” Samantha cried. “Zelda was a virgin. That’s the whole purpose behind this concoction. To help us become born-again virgins, so we can experience having our cherries popped again.”

“Right. So who do we know who’s a virgin. Oh, I know! That Jimmie brat down the street. I’d like to make him cry for digging my asparagus up last spring.”

“Let’s go get him!”

***
Three months later…

“I think all we’re missing is the last ingredient,” Samantha said as she drew the spoon away from her lips and stirred the pot again.

“Excellent. Little Suzie’s just waking up.”

“Can’t wait to get rid of this penis.”

“Nope,” Petra said, scratching her balls. “Me neither.”

Treasure

If I could put all the things I treasure into a chest,
I would put in coffee for my mornings,
and a notebook for writing, with lots of really nice pens.
I’d include books for reading
and a comfortable chair and a fire to sit beside
(my chest will be fireproof, don’t worry).
I’d have all the food I could possibly want–
enough to satisfy every craving,
but I’d have extra chocolate, for every occasion.
I’d throw in the dog for someone to cuddle
and the best pillow ever, so I’d always have a good night’s sleep.
But most of all I’d have to make sure I had one special item in my chest,
and that would be you.
Don’t eat my chocolate.

Protesteth

How doth one protesteth a petty injustice, when one’s very sustenance is at stake?

“Mummy? Whilst thou giveth me mine cookie?”

Ah, to babble, perchance to speak? Perhaps whence mine age becometh two.

Martyr

“Okay guys, I’m going in. Gonna take one for the team.”

“But Timmie, you’ll die!”

“Yeah, Timmie! If you break away, chances are you’re not gonna make it!”

“Gordon, Freddie, it’s okay. It was nice knowin’ ya.”

“Noo!! Timmie, nooo!!”

“Oh well, there goes one of the good ones. Aaaand SMOOSH! Okay, who’s up next? Ralph? Ralph? Come on, Ralph, you can beat that fly swatter!”

“Yeah, Ralphie! You’re the quickest one there is!”

“”Okay guys, I’m going in. Gonna take one for the team.”

“But Ralphie, you’ll die!”

“Yeah Ralphie! Or maybe you’ll make it! See ya soon, Ralphie! Aaaand SMOOSH! Man, it’s good these guys have a short memory. Who’s up next? Hey, Marty!”

***
The Daily Post: Martyr

#SoCS – Facelift

It started with a pimple on my nose. A small one it was to begin with – a little red dot right on the tip. I noticed it while I was admiring my new facelift in the mirror, on the night before I was to take a flight down south. I was looking forward to my vacation in the sun. Little did I know.

***
Sitting in the sun all day, reading a book on the beach made my pimple grow. When I came in to get changed for dinner, I looked in the mirror and saw that it was three times the size it had been before I left home.
I shrugged it off.

***
A week later and I’m about to board the plane to go back home. I didn’t think they’d let me on–there was talk that I’d need two seats. One for me, and one for my pimple. I didn’t have the money to buy another seat for my now giant proboscis, but if I didn’t make it back to work the next day, shit would surely hit the fan.

***
It’s been a month since I first saw the pimple on my nose. I drag my face around my apartment all day, having lost my job. Surgery is tomorrow. They’re going to cut off my nose. Despite my facelift.

socsbadge2016-17

This post is part of the Stream of Consciousness Saturday prompt. To play along or to read other posts, click on the following link: https://lindaghill.com/2016/12/02/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-dec-316/

Hello?

“Do you hear that?”

“Hear what?”

“That echo. It happens every time I speak.”

“No. Does it do it when I speak?”

“No. Only when I do.”

“Then it must be in your head.”

“It’s not in my head. I can hear it… it… it… Did you hear that?”

“That was just you saying ‘it’ three times.”

“So you heard it then! It’s not just in my head.”

“No! No, no, no. I heard you say ‘it’ three times. You actually said it. I heard you do it!”

“Now it’s happening when you do it too! I just heard you say ‘it’ three times!”

“Because I actually said ‘it’ three times. It’s not an echo. It’s me speaking!”

“Whoa…”

“What now?”

“Now your ‘it’s are coming out with esses on them. And so did mine… This is freaky!”

“No, you are freaky.”

“Now it’s happening with the word ‘freaky’! I’m freaking out!”

“Okay, that’s it. Excuse me, I’d like to sit somewhere else. Last time I’m taking this bus to work. Freak.”