Writing Group: An Unexpected Guest

Hello, Surprise Hosts and Drop-In Visitors alike!

Do you like surprises? Are you the kind of person who likes to plan ahead? Yes? No? Well, whatever your answer is, do me a favour and take care of this prompt for me, will you? Great! I’ll leave it in your care, because…

This week’s Writing Group prompt is:

An Unexpected Guest

RULES AND GUIDELINES BELOW!
Make sure you scroll down and read them if you haven’t! You may not be eligible if you don’t!

A prompt like this is pretty self explanatory, isn’t it? You’re either rushing around to get ready to go out or just having a lazy day to yourself, when suddenly the doorbell rings and makes you go “Who could that be? I wasn’t expecting anyone.” as you move to answer it.

But like all of our wonderful prompts, there are more sides to this than it first appears. By the term “guest”, we can assume that whoever is being visited ends up playing host… whether they want to or not. Of course, there’s the very common “I was in the area!” kind of guest. The one who was running errands and happened to think of you, so they figured why not? They’ll surprise you by showing up randomly. But we also know that sometimes that very line is said casually but actually means “I came straight here. Just for you.” Now this can be twisted in several ways itself. Perhaps a friend you haven’t seen in a long time decided they just wanted to come see you. They missed you and wanted to surprise you with a visit! But what if the visitor isn’t so friendly? Perhaps that demon you made a deal with was “just in the area” and decided to pay you a visit to see about you holding up your end of the bargain. 

Maybe there’s even more than one guest! Like those holidays you find out you’re hosting the family dinner by everyone showing up, and your sibling swearing they told you it was your turn this year but you know they didn’t and they just laugh it off while you have to now find a way to get a dinner ready for several people. Perhaps the “unexpected guests” are a few thieves who broke in in the middle of the night, and you come face to face with each other as you’re getting a glass of water from the kitchen. Maybe they panic and leave. Maybe you just don’t get in their way, letting them take what they want. Or maybe you manage to actually sit them down with a cup of tea and talk to them about life choices. 

Who knows? Maybe the unexpected guest is simply you finding out you have another personality, or maybe even multiple personalities within you. Or perhaps it’s finding out your best friend has telepathy by them suddenly speaking inside your head from across the room.

There’s many, many ways to spin this kind of prompt. It all depends on how you would define the word “guest”.

Now, go on and weave your tales. We’ll keep the tea warm while we wait for you to return with your submission.

—Shawna

Remember, this is part of our weekly Writing Group stream! Submit a little piece following the rules and guidelines below, and there’s a chance your entry will be read live on stream! In addition, we’ll discuss it for a minute and give you some feedback.

Tune into the stream this Saturday at 3:00pm CST to see if you made the cut!

The whole purpose of this is to show off the creativity of the community, while also helping each other to become better writers. Lean into that spirit! Get ready not just to share what you’ve got, but to give back to the other writers here as well.

Rules and Guidelines

We read at least four stories during each stream, two of which come from the public post, and two of which come from the much smaller private post. Submissions are randomly selected by a bot, but likes on your post will improve your chances of selection, so be sure to share your submission on social media!

  1. Text and Formatting

    1. English only.
    2. Prose only, no poetry or lyrics.
    3. Use proper spelling, grammar, and syntax.
    4. Your piece must be between 250-350 words (you can use this website to see your wordcount).
    5. Use two paragraph breaks between each paragraph so that they have a proper space between them (press “enter” or “return” twice).
    6. Include a submission title and an author name (doesn’t have to be your real name). Do not include any additional symbols or flourishes in this part of your submission. Format them exactly as you see in this example, or your submission may not be eligible: Example Submission.
    7. No additional text styling (such as italics or bold text). Do not use asterisks, hyphens, or any other symbol to indicate whether text should be bold, italic, or styled in any other way. CAPS are okay, though.
  2. What to Submit

    1. Keep submissions “safe-for-work”; be sparing with sexuality, violence, and profanity.
    2. Try to focus on making your submission a single meaningful moment rather than an entire story.
    3. Write something brand new; no re-submitting past entries or pieces written for other purposes
    4. No fan fiction whatsoever. Take inspiration from whatever you’d like, but be transformative and creative with it. By submitting, you also agree that your piece does not infringe on any existing copyrights or trademarks, and you have full license to use it.
    5. Submissions must be self-contained (everything essential to understanding the piece is contained within the context of the piece itself—no mandatory reading outside the piece required. e.g., if you want to write two different pieces in the same setting or larger narrative, you cannot rely on information from one piece to fill in for the other—they must both give that context independently).
  3. Submission Rules

    1. One submission per participant.
    2. Submit your entry in a comment on this post.
    3. Submissions close at 12:00pm CST each Friday.
    4. You must like and leave a review on two other submissions to be eligible. Your reviews must be at least 50 words long, and must be left directly on the submission you are reviewing, not on another comment. If you’re submitting to the private post, feel free to leave these reviews on either the private or the public post. The two submissions you like need not be the same as the submissions you review.
    5. Be constructive and uplifting. These submissions are not for a professional market, and shouldn’t be treated as such. We do this, first and foremost, for the joy of the craft. Help other writers to feel like their work is valuable, and be considerate and gentle with critique when you offer it. Authors who leave particularly abrasive or disheartening remarks on this post will be disqualified from selection for readings.
    6. Use the same e-mail for your posts, reviews, and likes, or you may be rendered ineligible (you may change your username or author name between posts without problem, however).
    7. You may submit to either or both the public/private groups if you have access, but if you decide to submit to both, only the private group submission will be eligible.
    8. Understand that by submitting here, you are giving us permission to read your submission aloud live on stream and upload public, archived recordings of said stream to our social media platforms. You will always be credited, but only by the author name you supply as per these rules. No other links or attributions are guaranteed.

Comments on this post that aren’t submissions will be deleted, except for replies/reviews left on existing submissions.


Comments

82 responses to “Writing Group: An Unexpected Guest”

  1. Mysten Noire Avatar
    Mysten Noire

    Too Many Guests
    by Mysten Noire Silver

    The night was misty and damp, unlike how summer nights usually are. A young boy gazed calmly at the empty street through boarded-up windows. Despite his age, he had a mature bearing, and his body tensed as if ready to spring into action at any time.

    After another moment of gazing, the boy covered the crack in the windows back up and the room plunged into darkness. Deep brown eyes blinked twice before a red glaze covered them.

    The world was suddenly bright as day and even more colorful than before.

    In his eyes, the empty house had wisps of energy that were colorful and ethereal. As the night deepens, he saw uninvited creatures slip through the walls. Some looked like horror terrors, some do not.

    He acted as if he didn’t notice any of them and walked calmly with a makeshift spear in hand. The weapon was useless against these creatures, but he kept it close in case those… ‘possessed’ humans came by.

    He tried to keep a neutral façade even as claws and feathers left tingling sensations on his skin. He walked upstairs into the second floor’s corridors but flinched when a creature appeared through a wall behind him.

    The boy froze as he accidentally gazed at the creature. The creature noticed his gaze and paused too. They looked at each other for a few moments before the boy finally sprinted to his room down the corridor. The creature let out a sound that his ears could not perceive and several smaller creatures popped out of the same wall to chase after the boy.

    As soon as the boy reached his room, he opened the door, ran in, and slammed it shut again.

    The door wasn’t locked yet, but the scratching of claws on metal showed that the creatures couldn’t rotate the round door handle. The boy quickly clicked the locks shut to prevent those that could open doors. As the adrenaline drained from his body, he slid down the door.

    His mature gaze wandered the scribbled papers stuck on the walls in his room and sighed tiredly.

    1. Mysten Noire Avatar
      Mysten Noire

      I know I’m late, but I just wanted to share this anyway. I hope this is at least a nice read ^^

  2. Who Stands Up First (Chronicles of The Dragon)
    By Makokam

    The hospital ward was mostly quiet. Only the beeping of the machines and gentle hum of the ventilation could be heard.

    Outside of Ultima’s own shallow breathing.

    She’d lost track of how much time had
    passed. And they’d never told her how long it’d been since she’d passed out.

    She was left to lay there and think about the battle.

    Flashes of fire, claws, and fangs leapt from her memory.

    She tried to force them back. Focus on something else.

    Not thinking about the outcome. Not thinking about her opponent. She drifted to thinking of the damage they’d done to the city.

    She grimaced.

    That was on her. She should have taken him out of the city. Over the ocean would have been ideal. But she hadn’t been thinking. Too confident she had him under control. Then too…scared.

    But it had been worth it. They’d won. He was contained. And they’d kill him if they needed too.

    She sighed as she tried to convince herself of that.

    Footsteps in the hall caught her attention.

    Slow. Casual. A doctor came around in his clean white coat with his face buried in her medical chart.

    “Looks like you lost a lot of blood,” he said, his voice hoarse.

    Ultima grunted and asked, “How long am I going to be in here?”

    “I dunno,” he said, tossing the chart aside, “I’m not a doctor.”

    Ultima recoiled violently, nearly falling out of the bed and pulling her IV’s and monitors loose, “YOU!”

    “Be careful, you ripped open some wounds.”

    Her rage started to turn to fear as she felt the warmth of blood seeping through her bandages. She was in no condition to fight. How was HE standing? How was he standing HERE?

    “What do you want?” she ground out. “To finish the job?”

    He stood still for a moment. Then grinned. “Just looking for the exit.”

    “Just blow a hole open,” she said with a sneer.

    He shrugged. “If I have to.” His smile faded. “I’m glad I didn’t kill you. Someone has to protect the world from people like me.”

    1. i-prefer-the-term-antihero Avatar
      i-prefer-the-term-antihero

      “They’d won. He was contained.”
      –Me: U sure? U SURE ABOUT THAT

      This is very cool!!

      I don’t know a ton about Ultima, but I love this idea that after this catastrophic fight with Jonathan he just strolls up to her hospital bed like it’s no big deal.
      I feel like Ultima is very much a no-nonsense, big-serious-superhero, play-by-the-tules kind of person, and Jonathan is kinda the opposite of that, so it’s fun to see him almost literally cut through the scene with how different he is.

      And rereading it, the “Looks like you lost a lot of blood” kind of kills me, because this was just him snagging the chart and peeking at it being like, Flynn Rider voice: “Good sir that’s a lot of blood!” (Which I totally didn’t make you lose!)

      “I’m glad I didn’t kill you. Someone has to protect the world from people like me.”
      –This kinda feels like a little bit of his heroism coming through. Well, maybe heroism is a little far. But I like the thought that he sees something in her that is worth preserving, and knows a bit of the problems of people like himself.

      I’m a bit too tired tonight for specific lines, but this was a great read!!

      1. You joke, but even without expressing her doubt, I felt everyone who know who the “unexpected visitor” would be just from the prompt. Almost made me throw it away, but I just wanted to write THIS scene too much.

        Regarding Ultima’s character, that’s certainly what she strives to be. Unfortunately this isn’t the first time John has…upset her.

        I’m really glad the last line worked for you. I was running out of time and words so…

        And don’t feel bad about individual lines. I think you got all the best ones as is.

    2. Love it! This was done so well! I don’t normally say this but part of what made this work for me was the title. As soon as I got to Ultima’s certainty that her opponent was down, I immediately knew this was a Superman/Doomsday situation(Doomsday technically rose from the “dead” first) and I knew where this story was going, which had me eagerly awaiting the payoff.

      You did a great job with giving us just enough information to know what was going on and as always, your dialogue brought it all together. You get the idea of how powerful Ultima and Jonathan are about how badly she felt about the damage to the city, which was a good touch.

      I think if I had to add a critique, it would be that I kinda wished you hadn’t used the word ‘doctor’ even if that word was technically filled in because this was from Ultima’s point of view. I think if you’d said a man/person in a white coat and a clipboard, the reader would have filled in that it was a doctor so when it turned out it wasn’t, you could have that moment of looking back to see that it never actually said he was a doctor. That’s the nit pickiest of nitpicks though lol.

      Love this story and this world. Great take on the prompt!

      1. I 100% agree with you about the “Doctor” thing. I couldn’t make it work otherwise though. Between word count and “if she didn’t think he was a doctor why would she stay calm?” I had to do it.

        Glad you liked it otherwise though. I’d been thinking about this fight lately and really wanted to write SOMETHING regarding it.
        And I didn’t know that about the Doomsday fight. Interesting.

    3. Not being familiar with these characters, the more I read this, the more I kept thinking about the battle between the Justice League and Doomsday in “The Death of Superman”. I’m not sure if superhero fiction was your goal, but that goal has been reached nonetheless, at least to me.

      I do find the villain’s final line to feel a bit off-character, though I could be missing some context from other stories, but the general cadence of the story as a whole and the way the descriptions instantly create visible scenarios in my mind were both very, very well done.

      1. Superhero fiction is 100% what I’m going for. Happy that was clear. It hasn’t always been.

        I’m not surprised the last line felt jarring, especially if you weren’t familiar with the man who said it. I’d already had to cut a lot just to be able to say it. Giving it more context would have required axing almost the entire set-up, which just wouldn’t work. Maybe after a few more stories with him it’ll make sense. But yeah…didn’t quite come out the way I would’ve liked.

        Thanks for commenting!

    4. Wait, who’s him?! What universe are we in? Lol (this character is new to me)

      1. Ah. Sorry. I uploaded this so late last night I forgot to add the “(Chronicles of The Dragon)” to the title. lol
        But this is that universe, and “He” is Jonathan.

  3. Jesus Rios Avatar
    Jesus Rios

    Appalling Performance
    by Jesus Rios

    He came to Providence this past October as part of a traveling circus. The dreadful heat betrayed the gentle crunch of fallen leaves beneath my boots. The crimson sky hid slowly beneath Prospect Terrace. The sight was inspiring enough for me to change my plan of going home early this All Hallows Eve. Imagine my surprise upon witnessing an awestruck crowd on their way out, clamoring about things such as the ones only fathomable in my dreams. Against my better nature, I ventured into the crowd.  

    His haunting gaze burned with cold detached intelligence. The crowd was jolted by surprise as he had manifested from the aether. Calling himself Khalid ben Jinun, he claimed Egyptian ancestry. This had to be true for I should be appalled by his complexion, but his presence was that of a Pharaoh. He spoke of horrors from beyond the stars. Vile darkness, unrelenting and unforgiving. Later the topic shifted to psychology and the brain, how it is a slave to the whims of electrical signals he could command. I stood up and called him out, others rallied behind me. He approached with a friendly smile. I trembled and averted his gaze. He requested to shake my hand, which I brazenly refused. Only then did all facade of friendliness depart his frightful face.

    “Sir, you have been a must unpolite guest this evening. In light of these developments, I bid you a night you will never forget!” On my way home, it did not take me long to make sense of his threat. What used to be paper images of black cats, pumpkins, and witches on the windows, were now living abominations! Their limbs twisted and broken in ways most unnatural. Their bodies oozed black tar and writhed in pain! I ran home and locked all my doors. His voice bellowed in my brain for what felt like an eternity, reproaching me for causing humanity to be unprepared for what was to come. It didn’t stop until I pleaded a bargain, to share his message as best I could through my writings.

    1. Interesting piece! I feel you have a knack for descriptive writing! I love how you’ve set the scene in the first two paragraphs, each one oozing with curiosity and wonder! However, I feel like the word count was rather restrictive in your case, as I believe the reveal in the third paragraph was a bit lacking. It could use a bit more of a gradual rise in tension, so the reveal itself, what the curse meant, would be more striking to readers. I believe you can do that, given the care you’ve put into the other paragraphs. Still, I find the piece to be quite enjoyable, and I believe you can expand on the concept a bit further if you so choose to. Good job!

      1. Jesus Rios Avatar
        Jesus Rios

        Thank you very much! To be honest it was. I had the core beats of the scene in my mind, but as they took a life of their own I ended up with some 800 words XD. I had to aggressively trim down. The original piece made a better job at conveying that the narrator is not a nice person and the magician puts them all into an illusion to establish his powers. I wanted it to have a Lovecraftian tone, as the narrator is meant to be Lovecraft himself meeting Nyarlatotep

    2. LewdCharizard Avatar
      LewdCharizard

      There’s a lot of good ambiance in the first paragraph. I can feel what it’s like to stand there in that moment, you’ve got the temperature and the sound/tactile crunch of the leaves and the visuals of the sky, and it’s absolutely perfect. The second paragraph is good. He does have the presence of a pharoah. But I don’t really get why the pharoah asked him to shake his hand. It seems like an odd thing to ask from a heckler in the crowd. Not that it doesn’t seem odd when people actually do that sort of thing. Although I do get the function it serves to move the story and I think that’s good. The last paragraph, I had a hard time imagining the spooky things. The paper images are probably silhouetted against the light from inside the houses, but I didn’t see that the first time through. Overall, nice work

      1. Jesus Rios Avatar
        Jesus Rios

        Thanks, I had to do some serious cuts to the end of the piece as I ran out of words. I understand that in the final version it feels off, but the intention was to convey that the magician was a polite man and genuinely intended to warn people. I struggled to communicate the paper cutouts, and there was more to the nightmare scene.

  4. Rock bottom
    by Alan Baker

    He sat at the edge, gripping the handrails behind him so hard his knuckles turned white. With his legs hanging over the ravine, he only had to let go, and he would slip off the smooth metal surface.

    Looking down at the grey rocks far below, silent and indifferent. It was a lonely place, too far from town for most.

    The rusted railway bridge creaked under him, flecks of rust spiralling off in the breeze. He took in another breath, and…

    And then, someone slipped under the railings and sat beside him. Startled, he tightened his grip.

    “Hello,” said the stranger in a soft, musical voice.

    Seconds drifted by, lost to the wind. Looking down at the stone teeth below, he gave no answer.

    She breathed in slowly, taking in the cool mountain air. “It’s beautiful here, isn’t it?” He felt the railing behind him give ever so slightly as she lent back.

    He looked up to see the setting sun bathe the valley in waves of crimson and gold, setting fire to the stream that writhed and twisted its way down the slope beneath him. And there amongst the brilliant rays, she sat smiling, drinking it all in.

    Without noticing, he pulled himself up slightly, away from the edge and loosened his grip. Realising that he was staring at her, he turned to look out over the sunset, embarrassed.

    He felt her hand over his, “I came here once, like you, but I met someone on the way. And he helped me climb out. Showed me people care.”

    He turned to her to see a tear roll down her cheek, “Will you let me show you?”

    1. Shawyn Waddell Avatar
      Shawyn Waddell

      More than anything, this has thematic power behind it. I really appreciate that you posted this. At a time of year when people grapple with mental health, this addresses the prompt, and has a timely meaning as well.

      It’s unapologetically blunt, but that is said in a good way. As someone who has been down such deep journeys, often the moment is a bag of nails, and the hammer is the best tool available.

      It’s a very sweet story that reminds people that ‘hey, others have been here, and they left here, but they know the way back, and can get you back out.’

      The only thing that really took me out of the story was the contradictory descriptions of the setting– holding handrails, and smooth metal at the beginning first put me at some purpose-built new ‘scenic outlook’ stop or similar. Who doesn’t want to die to a nice view? Then a rusted train bridge further down, and I thought, “where is the smooth metal,” and “do old train bridges have handrails that you can hold on to?” That latter one may be dependent on many things, such as style of bridge, rail line, and old building laws. 🙂

      Again, thanks for the timely and relevant piece!

    2. Jesus Rios Avatar
      Jesus Rios

      This piece is very heartwarming! The reality of it all, the abandonment not just of the man but also the bridge and the ravine. They feel forgotten and distant from anything human-related. The juxtaposition of the mystery woman is very funny. She tells us why she is there, but how did she come by the place now of all times? Her nonchalant approach makes it all seem so casual, so natural. He was meant to meet her, she was meant to save him, it’s just natural.

  5. A Matter of Perspective
    By Alexsander Edwards (EddySc)

    Avoiding the thunderstorm that took over the skies outside, detective Richard “Dick” Seymour entered his office at the 14th precinct. Folders and papers from previous cases littered the floor.

    Lifting his left hand to turn on the lampshade hanging from the ceiling, a memory hit him. There, on his finger, where a wedding ring was meant to be, he could see naught but his own wedding ring. For he was not yet divorced, after all, as opposed to all the cool characters from detective novels.

    “Took you a while.” The voice startled the happily-married man. Sitting on a chair in front of his desk was detective Richard “Dick” Stanstill.

    Seymour never quite understood why he was constantly surrounded by so many Dicks. He glanced for a moment at the office next door, where detective Dick Gotobed worked – but, as usual, he’d gone home early that day.

    “How long have you been waiting here?” Seymour asked, as he sat down at his desk.

    “About since the story started,” Stanstill replied. “You did ask me to come here, after all. Something about a… serial lampshade hanger?”

    Seymour took a sip of water, wishing the precinct would allow him a bottle of whiskey like in his favorite noir stories. He thought of all the poor, innocent lampshades that had been hung. He knew they wouldn’t hurt a fly – no promises about moths, however, but that seemed fair to him. Realizing he’d lost himself in thought, the detective looked up, relieved to notice that his guest had simply stood still.

    “Yes,” he finally said. “We need to go over the evidence and catch this monster!”

    “I mean, it’s just lampshades…”

    “Don’t you dare besmirch the reputation of those victims!” Seymour snapped.

    Stanstill rose an eyebrow. “Riiiight… Well, anyway, I have some pictures of-“

    “Wait! Not now!”

    Stanstill would’ve stopped in his tracks if he wasn’t already simply standing still. “Why?” he asked.

    “We have unexpected guests… as you well know,” Seymour said, as both detectives slowly turned their heads to the side, facing an unknown point approximately where the readers were seated.

    1. i-prefer-the-term-antihero Avatar
      i-prefer-the-term-antihero

      You in your message: I’d love Antihero to read this because of the jokes we made on stream
      Me: Jokes?? On stream??
      Me: OH
      Me: OMG THE “where the readers stood” JOKE?! YES PLEASE
      Me: *reads the story* HELL YESSSS

      …Okay so this was freaking DELIGHTFUL.
      This would be awesome to read on stream. I’d love to be able to sink my teeth into this story and talk about all the little details. I won’t be able to get to everything here, but I’ll try and pinpoint some things!

      It can take a lot to get me to laugh out loud while reading something but this story got me.
      “Seymour never quite understood why he was constantly surrounded by so many Dicks. He glanced for a moment at the office next door, where detective Dick Gotobed worked – but, as usual, he’d gone home early that day.”
      –This part especially XD I loved it so dang much.

      “The voice startled the happily-married man.”
      –This one nearly got me too.

      ““How long have you been waiting here?” Seymour asked, as he sat down at his desk.
      “About since the story started,”
      –Yesssssssss

      “Seymour took a sip of water, wishing the precinct would allow him a bottle of whiskey like in his favorite noir stories. He thought of all the poor, innocent lampshades that had been hung. He knew they wouldn’t hurt a fly – no promises about moths, however, but that seemed fair to him.”
      –Fantastic, each of these lines.
      Also, even though it said he sipped it, when you said whisky I couldn’t help but imagine him sitting on the floor of his office, looking all grizzled, and taking a shot of water XD

      I honestly don’t read a lot of detective stories so I’m sure there were some references that went over my head, but those which I did get were wonderful. There’s so much in this one little story!!

      Probably my biggest critique/nitpick would be: “There, on his finger, where a wedding ring was meant to be, he could see naught but his own wedding ring.”
      –The phrasing is quite confusing here. Basically what you’re trying to say is that in most detective stories the MC would be divorced, so there *wouldn’t* be a wedding ring there, but Seymour is not a usual detective so there *is* a wedding ring there, correct?
      I feel like something like “He looked at his finger where a wedding ring was meant to be. All the cool characters from detective novels are always divorced. On his ring, however, a wedding ring sat comfortably.” would work better? …That feels a little clunky too, but a bit clearer?

      Anywho, this was a fantastic story, I’d love to read a full novel like this!! Keep up the great work!!

      1. Yeah, you got it, I’m glad it worked hahaha

        RE the bit about the ring: it was hard to word it decently and still maintain the beat of a joke (even more so in under 350 characters). I wanted the bit about the “cool detectives” to be the punchline so the rhythm would go like this:
        As the narrator mentions a memory coming back: “Oh, here comes the divorced noir guy”
        As the narrator mentions he has a ring: “Wait, he has a ring, why the F is he looking at it remorseful”
        As the punchline hits: “Ooooooooh”

        But yeah, good shout. Gotta work on sentences like that on future comedy attempts.

    2. Shawyn Waddell Avatar
      Shawyn Waddell

      This is the type of piece that you have to read a couple times, just to pick up on the stuff you missed the first time because you fool everyone by writing ‘yet another trope-filled detective story.’ Then the first obvious joke hits. I love it.

      It’s also a nice placement in the thread, so that helps. 🙂

      I read the other reply and had the same concern. The second paragraph confused me to the point where I almost stopped reading, but am so glad that I continued on. The opening paragraph also could be a little more dramatic to really hook a reader into the trope you then lash into.

      Overall, this was highly entertaining, and a welcome relief. I don’t see a lot of humor pieces in submissions here, and this was done quite well for a short piece.

      1. Yeah, I have some ideas to fix the… uhh… “problematic paragraph”, but they would all take me past the character limit, sadly. I might do an edit and rewrite of this and post it on Discord after the weekend, depending on how much free time I can wrangle out of the next few days.

        Glad you stuck around and ended up enjoying it, though!

    3. “That’s him officers! Right there! That’s the lampshade hanger,” he said, pointing to author of the story.

      I think the problem with the second paragraph is just that it was the first…joke. People were still taking the story seriously, so it was very whiplashy.

      It’s funny that you had them all named “Richard” despite “dick” also being a nickname(abbreviation?) of “Detective” anyway.

      1. Guilty as charged, officer.

        And yeah, the name thing was partially inspired by that and partially by just the large number of detectives named Dick you could find in pulp literature and comics from that era (I think Dick Tracy is the only one that stuck around though).

  6. Arith_Winterfell Avatar
    Arith_Winterfell

    “A Christmas Surprise”

    By: Arith_Winterfell

    Suzy sat looking out at the planet below from the window of the space station in her family’s front living room. “Merry Christmas to you,” crooned over the speakers and a thought occurred to Suzy.

    “Mommy,” Suzy asked, “If the Santa is coming, how does he get pass the security dwones?”

    Suzy’s mother Lithia thought for a moment then answered, “Well sweetie, he is friends with the security drones so they let him come visit people here on the space station.”

    “But then, how does he get into the house?”

    “Well, he has a magic pass card that lets him into the houses.”

    “But then, he sounds like a bad man, like someone who comes to steal stuff.”

    “No, honey, he just brings presents.”

    “But he comes and steals like… all the cookies and the milk too!”

    “No sweetie, he just eats the milk and cookies we give him.”

    “Oh,” Suzy said plainly.

    Lithia knew that her husband Jack would be back soon dressed as Santa to surprise Suzy, but the thought did now occur to her, would the security drones be able to recognize him in that outfit?

    “Ho! Ho! Ho!” came the loud voice from the hallway.

    Suzy gasped and ran to the door, pushed the button, and the door slid open. “It’s the bad man, he’s really here!” Suzy screamed.

    The security drones in the hall, reacting to Suzy’s shouting, swiveled to face Jack.

    “Ho! Ho! Oh shi—” could be heard from the hallway followed by the sound of buzzing filling the air. Lithia ran to the door hearing Suzy shouting, “They zapped the Santa!”

    1. That was *so* morbid and yet *so* fun. It’s not common for prose to make me laugh aloud, but, as the pieces of the twist ending started to form, your story did, well done!

    2. LewdCharizard Avatar
      LewdCharizard

      Love to see Christmas themed stories. Is ” “Merry Christmas to you” ” from over the speakers the Nat King Cole song or like a space station wide announcement? It’s a very grounded story, and the details that make it space stationey are just enough to tint the story in a future way without distracting from the point of the story. I like that traditions, like dressing up as Santa persists, it’s very cozy.

    3. MacBoiZen Avatar
      MacBoiZen

      This is a rather sweet, but also hilarious little scene you’ve written. Super simple concept, and I would say it feels just a teensy fast-paced, but I don’t believe that detracts from the story as a whole. I got a good chuckle out of the ending. Poor Santa indeed haha. Well done.

  7. Shawyn Waddell Avatar
    Shawyn Waddell

    Squirt
    by Shawyn Waddell
    (Trigger Warning: pet death, and a swear word)

    Stone-faced and weak-kneed, I held his little blue body in my hand. My nine-year-old’s face turned red and swollen; she radiated fear, sadness, and regret as the last one to handle him. My seven-year-old’s face went ashen and blank, disbelief poured from her soul.

    “Shit, he’s dead, I’m sorry.”

    The listless budgie’s neck rolled around, and everyone’s tear ducts opened.

    “Crazy, silly, stupid bird,” I bubbled, looking at their faces, my heart tearing from my chest.

    Squirt, the surprise oddity from the aviary played emotional blackmail on us at first sight. He was small for his age, weak-billed, unable to fly, and unsteady on his feet. His tiny face cocked to one side at us, and we saw two perfectly shaped black hearts on each cheek… and ours poured into him.

    The breeder tried to talk us out of it. He knew this day would come.

    “Maybe two weeks, maybe four,” was his sad prognosis. He gave us Squirt with a tinge of regret, and caution that heartache would be imminent.

    When we reached week eight with him, we felt blessed. Maybe he would make it long term. He was curious, interactive, and determined to learn to fly, though his ill-grown body betrayed him.

    Week ten and twelve, I saw him struggle to get around more than usual. “Hold out until Christmas,” I wished him.

    The fateful day was pleasantly normal. A perfect math test to be celebrated, dinner was on the stove, everyone was excitedly chattering, but then the curious and determined little blue budgie did what Squirt often did: attempted to fly like his cage-mates.

    His neck snapped on impact with the cage wall. I sprung to him, and shielded his already limp body, as he landed hard on his back on the floor, and rolled him into my palm, hoping he was only stunned.

    Death had arrived, unwelcome, undeserved, unfair, and, at that moment, unexpected.

    Stone-faced and weak-kneed, I held his little blue body in my hand.

    1. Robin Graves Avatar
      Robin Graves

      Even though the story opens with his death, I’m still sitting here cheering the little guy on, hoping they got an unprecedented number of years out of him before the end. How dare you toy with my emotions like this! I’m not normally a fan of stories revolving around the death of pets, on account of being a big soft-hearted baby, but I think this was done really artfully. It’s very emotional without being gratuitous. Great job!

      1. Shawyn Waddell Avatar
        Shawyn Waddell

        Thanks. I thought I had nothing to write this week, but then, I held his little body in my hand… this was a bit of creative non-fiction a day after the fact, so was probably rough and raw in its style. 🙂

  8. Quetzalcoatl Avatar
    Quetzalcoatl

    Oh ye my mirror
    by Quetzalcoatl

    It was already late at night, when I began preparing for dinner. Usually, I have no motivation to do so, but for today I have planned a grand feast, for an esteemed guest has graced me with his presence. It is the first meal in a while I do not have to eat alone.

    “Oh, what a joyous occasion!”, I cried out in bliss. “Oh, my sacred companion, I shall prepare everything to your liking!”

    Though first, we had to push the tables together, for one alone would not have been able to carry the load. Then we set the table, with my finest tableware and I went out to the kitchen to put our fare together, while my dear guest occupied himself with other matters. And just as promised, I made an exquisite supper. All kinds of bread were on the table, with cheese and cold cuts, dozens of varying kinds of jam and everything else he could have hoped for. And of course, I did not forget the wine we both enjoyed. We sat down at the table, talking and joking. Each of us took the bread, picked up the butter to salt it and ended up putting salami on top. Surprisingly, we our tastes were quite similar, maybe even the same. For now, we kept each other at bay with small talk. We´d have deeper conversations over the wine. It was pretty fun to speak to him. There was a lot to talk about, since although we see each other regularly, we usually only exchange greetings. This was the first time I actually conversed with him. “Why haven´t I invited him up till now?”, I thought. Even though we see each other so often. In the hallway, my room and the bath… “Why was it only today that I thought about it?” All the time I wasted not talking to him heavily weighed me down. But his kind words immediately lifted my spirit and we continued deep into the night.

    We cleared the table, still a bit drunk. We looked at each other with joy. Our hands touched on the cold surface of the mirror. Tomorrow, we shall have breakfast together.

    1. Jesus Rios Avatar
      Jesus Rios

      It’s definitely an interesting piece. I was caught by the debate: is this person losing their mind due to solitude, or is he just exploring self-love. By the end, I still couldn’t tell for sure. That is by far the best part for me. I find myself asking the same thing the character does, why now does he choose to engage in such a peculiar practice?

  9. Boozed Up
    by VTRwriter

    Ding-Dong, the doorbell rang.

    Garvan opened the door.

    “What? Sandy?” he said surprised.

    “Wohoo, my hafling friend!” the human lady before him sang. “I’m a good luck fairy bringing fortune to your house!”

    “Sandy, you’re a dragon, not a fairy”

    “Aww. So you won’t let me in?”

    “…Sure. Go to the regular size couch.”

    “Yay!” She entered, zigzagging akwardly.

    “You’re drunk? How is that even possible?”

    “In human form it’s very easy. Lucky me! Wohoo!”

    “Okay, I’m calling your brother.” the hafling said, reaching for his smartphone on the table.

    “Nope!” Sandy replied, snatching the phone and laying on the couch. “You know, I always found it funny seeing you, so small, with a regular-sized phone. So funny!”

    “Yeah.” said Garvan annoyed. “Hilarious. So, to what do I owe this visit?”

    “It’s just that it’s been so long that I don’t see you. I missed you, you cranky short dude!”

    “Sandy, we see each other everyday at work.”

    “Yeah, but I want to see everyone everyday more often. Every hour. And I want everyone to be healthy and young forever. Or else I’ll fire them! New policy: no one dies of old age, or they will be fired for just cause!”

    “…Did…Did something happened?” Garvan got worried for his boss’s sanity.

    “Sorry.” Sandy withheld her tears. “It’s just that… a friend of mine, she… died today. You didn’t knew her. We grew up together, you know? But I’m here and she… died of old age. She was just ninety-eight years old! She was so young and full of life! Not fair. Not fair at all!”

    “Sorry to hear this.” the hafling climbed the couch and sit next to his friend.

    “Do you mind if I stay here? I don’t fell so…” the human-dragon fell into the couch, almost falling on top of Garvan, imediattely sleeping. He decided to get his phone back and but on a blanket on top of her.

    “Better call your brother, Sandy” Garvan said more to himself than to anyone else. “Dragon hangover is something I really don’t want to see.”

    1. Shawyn Waddell Avatar
      Shawyn Waddell

      Geeez, talk about a boss that doesn’t understand work-life balance!

      I like the interplay between these two characters — a lot. It seems very much like Perfect Strangers, which a lot of people are too young to understand. The two from different ‘worlds’ with different ‘world views’ are friends, though one is the others’ boss, and shows up to their employee’s house drunk, so I’m fully on the halfling’s side of ‘oh gawd, no, why are you here.’

      Having this dragon drunk opens up the ability to examine a little bit of their thought process unfiltered, as alcohol is the great liberator of the tongue from the mind, is it not? 🙂 I don’t know what a halfling is, or why dragons can suddenly be human shaped, so that threw me off a little bit, as I read very little high fantasy, but you got me to read all the way through, so that’s a feather in your cap.

      Died of old age at 98 years, which was ‘young and full of life’ for the dragon. The tells me, a non-fantasy reader, a lot about dragons — even ones that are human. The point about a ‘normal size phone’ being comically large for a halfling also tells me — a non-fantasy reader — that a halfling is probably, in fact, half sized.

      Good job. Now I want them to move in together, and really be the duo from Perfect Strangers, and I want to read about them baking bibbi babka!

      1. Thanks, I’m glad you liked it.

        Indeed, in some fantasy worlds, dragons can shape into humanoid forms, based probably on ancient german folklore, and I decided to adopt this standard here as well. And as you guessed, haflings are half the “normal” size of a person (indeed, haflings is another word for hobbit, like the Lord of the Rings kind).

        I’m also a fan of old sitcoms, but the home favorites are The Nanny and Frasier.

        again, thank you for the kind words.

  10. Ruses of the Mind
    By Ann W. T

    There is something dangerous about being trapped in your own mind, enslaved by your own thoughts. And it’s not dangerous by the things you may think, it’s not about getting lost in the past or afraid for the future, not about the feelings that might be remembered when they should rather be forgotten. It’s about the unexpected things one can find inside, things that were once private, personal spaces being invaded by things that never once were invited to stay. Or to even exist in that mind.

    At first, the voice that reaches you is nothing but a weak whisper, an echo from the darkest parts of your thoughts. At first you ignore it, dismiss it. Yet the voice grows louder, fiercer, hungrier, it wants you to listen, pay attention to the words its saying.

    Such horrible, terrible words.

    You are already trapped, you can’t leave your own delusions and your own mind- So you follow that voice. It leads you to places you never wanted to see again, things that make your skin eager to crawl away from your body, make your heart stop and dry out like a dead and hollow cask. You want to close your eyes and run away yet there is no safe place. That prison was created for you.

    You walk in the darkness following nothing but that voice, the voice that did not belong in that place nor your mind, until you reach the very core and essence of that prison. Suddenly you feel like the invader, the unwelcomed prisoner as you see the being that faces you with a ravenous smile. It is your own prison, your own mind and thoughts yet you face the Master. The elemental, fundamental being that once was called a demon, a monster is now what you could only describe as being your own self. The self that holds a key for the prison, the ‘you’ that demands payment. Retribution. It was once your own mind that sought comfort, reached for help. You were once the rightful host, the owner.

    Now you are the invader.

    The sinner.

    1. I love the voice you used. It blew me away! The narration, like a past trauma that only you would understand, was so relatable. I could feel the pain coming out of that story, like the beast comes right out at you! I know what it feels to be the monster and prisoner at the same time. Its so fantastic, but it sounds so real. I gotta ask what the inspiration was. Why would the darkest parts of you reach out for help, though?

      1. Thank you so much for such kind words!! I am happy you liked the voice o/
        I must say that the inspiration for this piece was the idea behind ‘inner demons’, like this ‘other self’ was an unwelcomed guest inside your own mind. I hadn’t though about it as it reaching for help though, that’s quite an interesting interpretation. That’s one of the reasons why I like to leave these kind of stories more ‘open’ to interpretation, so that the readers can absorb and feel different things from one another.

        I am glad you enjoyed your reading!!

    2. It’s kinda impossible for me to read this without thinking about the many times an unwanted thought came to my mind, due to my mental illnesses. Even though the description you used makes it at least SEEM like this invader is sort of a supernatural force, it’s a really good, if “flowery”, representation of the feeling I get when I can’t help but get overwhelmed by my anxiety-led instincts.
      And then, of course, the feeling of “sinner”. Of being lesser, being the one in the wrong, being the failure.

      Very nicely written, good stuff!

  11. Tamela Redfin Avatar
    Tamela Redfin

    Dance with the Devil tonight

    By Tamela Redfin

    The arm was at last finished. Ada and I marveled at our creation, calling it Aspasia. “I can’t wait to show Gilbert.” Ada smiled.

    “I bet Gilbert as well as Radon Cecilia will love it.” I replied. “I just hope…”

    But then something happened that stopped our hearts.

    The loud sound of feet could be heard. Ada stared at me in shock.

    “Schnell! Hide it.” Ada whispered.

    “Hide what?” The door flung open to reveal her. The lady of the hour, better known to humanity as Sulfur Cora. She pushed back her sulfur colored hair.

    “Oh… just a prank for my… father.” Ada stammered.

    Sulfur Cora leaned in. “Feldspar Augen works hard in Snos, keeping cyphas at bay! He doesn’t need childish playthings to distract him.”

    “I… I…”

    Sulfur Cora’s cold onyx eyes locked on Ada. “You’re about thirty years old. Grow up, Ada!”

    Wait, what? How was that possible? Thirty? She didn’t look a day past twelve. But then again she did mention a clone mother, so anything was possible.

    “And you, Chlorine Keely, report back to my brother, Chlorine Keith immediately. The streets don’t clean themselves. As for this arm, Hydrogen Henry take care of it.”

    Oh no! I could tell from the look in Hydrogen Henry’s lovesick violet eyes, he’d do what she’d say. “Yes, Sulfur Cora.”

    “Please, Sulfur Cora, there’s no need to do this.” I responded.

    “Do you wish to be stripped of your current rank and live as a copper or an iron? Perhaps a carbon? That’s what I thought. Report to Chlorine Keith.”

    I had no other choice, but she didn’t see me pocket the Hawk’s Eye.

    1. The arm is back.
      And I am so happy.
      Also, we have ranks!! So I can identify: Sulfur (the highest showed until now?), Chlorine, Hydrogen, Copper and Iron (lowest ranks?) and I’m not sure if Feldspar and Radon would also be included. Still, I am very pleased to be informed about those ranks and I really need to learn more.
      Also, the fact you are writing the same story with different prompts is just beautiful. Do you plan to bring the arm back next week?! :3
      If so, I shall continue to smile brightly.

  12. A peculiar Visitor (The Depths Files/Darkspell Universe)
    By Alex Nightingale (aka Spectre)

    Daniel Armitage, demigod descendent of retribution itself, had been sitting in the living room of his family home, until he felt it. Something had just made its way into the lawn of Rosewood House. Instinctively, he knew that this couldn’t be his sister, Emily. His magical senses wouldn’t go haywire like this, if it were.

    Out in the cold night, he couldn’t make out much. But what he could perceive was a wave of something dire. Something… powerful. Like a storm, waiting to happen.

    He braced himself, as he made his way towards rustling, coming from a pair of oak trees. He usually didn’t like hostilities towards guests, even unexpected ones, despite what the name Armitage suggested. But this… This was something else.

    He’d learned from Max to be on his guard, when demons were close. And this… this was a demon. One of a truly chilling calibre. He breathed in a strong, sweet scent reminiscent of fresh marshmallows and vanilla, mingled with the smell of roses so typical for his family and which he so disliked. He could almost feel his eyes shimmer, as the legacy of Armitage rose in his chest.

    He couldn’t help but growl slightly. He didn’t like this… It distressed people. Caused them to recoil in fear. He didn’t want to be a monster, not even for his mother.

    But this… Whatever this demon was, it emanated a sense of chaos and disorder, like the laws of common sense had just been thrown out the window.

    “Where are you?” he whispered.

    The rustling now came from the flower bushes. The petals brushed each other, shacking as something moved through them. He noticed a scruff of ginger hair, in between the red rose petals.

    There they were.

    He grabbed the intruder and slammed them into the house wall, pinning them with one arm. It was more than enough.

    “And who might you be?” Daniel asked, his eyes glowing magenta.

    “Name’s Trip, mate,” the young man winced, as Daniel gripped his wounded arm. “Sorry ‘bout yer garden. Runnin’ for yer life makes ya careless.”

    1. Lol the build up for this story was ridiculously fun. It just makes the pay off at the end so much more worth the wait. In such a few words you really got that tense feeling of the unknown across.

      There was this anticipation for some big, dangerous being that might or might not have been a threat to Daniel in the first place, but I loved the descriptive feeling of chaos that Trip caused. Very much what I’d expect from a demon. Very cool story and fun take on the prompt. Well done!

    2. i-prefer-the-term-antihero Avatar
      i-prefer-the-term-antihero

      “Daniel Armitage, demigod descendent of retribution itself, had been sitting in the living room of his family home, until he felt it”
      –This first line is like a punch to the face with every new word! XD I love it!

      I may just be feeling this because I know a bit about Daniel, and I like this aspect of his character, but this story feels like the true and more hidden struggle throughout the piece is not that of the demon/guest, but of Daniel’s struggle with his own supernatural side.
      Perhaps another Armitage would have pounced…and an innocent man would have gotten hurt.

      “He’d learned from Max to be on his guard, when demons were close.”
      –Ahh, so he and Max are friends!! Awesome!!

      “He breathed in a strong, sweet scent reminiscent of fresh marshmallows and vanilla, mingled with the smell of roses so typical for his family and which he so disliked.”
      –This is really curious. Do demons usually give off the scent of things you like, or else things you dislike?

      “He couldn’t help but growl slightly. He didn’t like this… It distressed people. Caused them to recoil in fear. He didn’t want to be a monster, not even for his mother.”
      –You know I’m a big fan of man/monster stories, so I can’t help but adore this part XD

      You like to play with audience perceptions in a very expert way. You know that we know there’s going to be an unexpected guest, we think the unexpected guest is a demon, when the true unexpected part for both Daniel and the reader is that it’s a regular dude XD
      Or at least, I think it is?
      In any case, that last line is so full of character and is fantastic. I really hope Trip comes back for other pieces, because I’m super curious what the deal is now, and if they’ll become buddies.

      I really liked this one!!

  13. MacBoiZen Avatar
    MacBoiZen

    Surprise Visitor (Alchemy’s Kin Universe)
    By MacBoiZen

    On any other day, Sayaka Shimizu would have loved to sit and watch the little Christmas lights glitter in the snowy nightscape outside her apartment complex. Today, however, the lights seemed to be the only thing keeping her from falling asleep on the sidewalk as she trudged through the watery mush up to the doors of the building.

    “Guess…this week…took a lot…out of me” she said, dragging herself towards the elevators. “I should…”

    The lift doors opened with a small ping. A group of people made their way out to the cold December air. She slipped in to fill the space they had vacated. Once the doors closed, she slumped over on the wall, oppressive exhaustion overtaking her entire body.

    Damn those extra aikido lessons, she thought. Her phone buzzed in her coat pocket in response, but her arms were too sore to even attempt to take it out. A quiet yawn escaped her mouth. The elevator slowly came to a halt on her floor. The metal doors opened again.

    A loud yell followed by an equally noisy swooshing sound greeted her ears. Her heart skipped a beat. She ran out of the lift and rounded the corner of her apartment hallway. A large man came barreling towards her, waving his arms at what appeared to be a small fireball whizzing around his head like an angry hornet. Sayaka yelped, blasting him with a jet of water from her hand. The force pushed the man straight into the wall of the lift, knocking him out.

    “Going down,” an automated voice declared as the elevator shut once more.

    “What…in the world…” Sayaka managed in between deep breaths.

    “Yeah, sorry about that. Weird guy was hanging out outside your door,” came a rather irritated, but sheepish voice. She looked over to see a familiar black haired, red-eyed boy, a small flame hovering above his hand.

    “Phoenix?”

    “I left something in your place the other day. You don’t mind if I–” he asked.

    “I-I…um…sure, be my guest…” she replied.

    1. This is so awkward and funny. I like the way you incorporate the fire and water powers, implied, not all in your face about it. The display of the relationship between the two characters was masterful. The expression was fresh, and

      1. Typo. Shoot.

        1. MacBoiZen Avatar
          MacBoiZen

          Haha glad you enjoyed it. To be honest, this one was a little on-the-fly, and since my last two ones were more serious, I decided to go with a more amusing setup this time. I feel as if, again, the word limit hurts this one since I wanna go longer, but I am glad that you like the result here.

    2. i-prefer-the-term-antihero Avatar
      i-prefer-the-term-antihero

      Me: I know that what I read of his Alchemy’s Kin universe featured the guy who could control fire as the main character. What was his name though?
      *Each consecutive week you post for the universe I get more annoyed with myself*
      Me: “What the heckedy heck was the boy’s name?! Why can’t I remember?!”
      Me: *reads this story*
      Me: *Looks at the camera*
      Narrator: It was in that moment she realized…she was an idiot

      Anywho, this was great!!

      I do love it when stories are seasonal!! The December atmosphere was delightful in this piece. Though at the same time I also feel cold and tired just reading that beginning, haha! Which, I mean, that means it’s good writing!

      “Yeah, sorry about that. Weird guy was hanging out outside your door,” came a rather irritated, but sheepish voice. She looked over to see a familiar black haired, red-eyed boy, a small flame hovering above his hand.”
      –This is freaking delightful XD
      I love that the guest thing kind of has a double meaning for your story. The weirdo outside her door and Phoenix as the guest to the elevator.
      Also, no better way to make a character endearing than to show him sending annoying fireballs at weirdos who creep around girl’s doors XD
      We’ve got action! We’ve got adorableness! We’ve got friendship!
      Hell yes.

      My one critique is the “be my guest” did feel like the prompt peeking through a bit too much, at least for me. I don’t really have the brain power for critiquing in any more depth than this, but it’s what I have for ya.

      Wonderful job!!

  14. Lee Strangely Avatar
    Lee Strangely

    As You Wish
    by Lee Strangely

    It was the greatest day of Terry’s life. He could hardly see what he was holding through teary eyes, but he knew what it was. The check, that single piece of paper was going to save his home and everything in it.

    It was odd to think that mere minutes ago his whole life was falling apart. I thought about how lucky he was that he got this gift… But as he did, something kept bothering him: he got the check in the mail, but he didn’t remember seeing it when he first pulled it out of the mailbox. It was as if it had just appeared out of thin-air on the table.

    “It was probably just hidden between two other envelopes, that’s all,” he reassured himself. It’s not like it wasn’t supposed to be his. After all, his full name was written on the check and the envelope it came in. Nothing could distract him from the immense joy he felt.

    Ding!

    The sound startled him. His attention immediately turned to the front door.

    Ding!

    He took the check and stuck it in one of his desk drawers before heading to the door.

    Ding!

    At this point the visitor’s impatience started to annoy him so opened the door as quickly as he could. Outside stood a man in a blue blazer and a silvery, robe-like shirt.

    “Terry, um…” the man looked at small receipt-like piece of paper, “Rudoc?”

    “That’s, me,” he cautiously answered, “and you are?”

    “Jean, just call me Jean,” he said as he went to shake Terry’s hand, “I’m here to talk about your wish.”

    “My wish? I didn’t wish for anything.” Terry didn’t quite understand, but played along.

    “I know. You didn’t make the wish; it was made for you. Someone wished for you to have that money.”

    “You’re here for the money?” Terry sighed.

    “Oh no no no. You see, wish recipients often get one of three choices: One, you can wish for something for someone of your choice; two, you don’t.”

    “What’s option three?”

    “Option three, is that you become a wish-maker… Like me.”

  15. LewdCharizard Avatar
    LewdCharizard

    LewdCharizard
    Rain Nor Snow

    Theodore nearly dropped his quill. He frowned, his hand lingering above parchment.

    Just the-

    knock Knock KNOCK

    Theodore started. Yes, definitely a knock. Several knocks. A knocking. He grabbed his pointed hat and crunched it on, took it off, then halfway around his desk decided, yes, maybe a hat sort of thing. That being sorted, he bustled to the door. It wasn’t a large room, so he could only bustle a bit. He paused with his hand over the knob, but grabbed it, not wanting to be knocked upon again. He opened the door a hair and peered out, but it was just enough for the cold air to tickle his nose. He sneezed.

    “Mail’s here!” came a call across the barrier.

    “Surely not,” Theodore thought.

    Theodore opened the door in full and saw yes, there was a mailerly looking man. Theodore frowned and pulled his cloak tighter against the cold. The man held out an envelope, and the corner flicked in the wind. Yes, definitely a mailman.

    “Yes. Thank you.” he said, grabbing the unruly thing.

    The mailman touched a finger to his cap and started to turn.

    “Excuse me…”

    The mailman stopped and looked at him. “Something I can help you with?”

    “It’s just… Excuse me, but what exactly are you doing here?”

    The mailman stared at him blankly. “I’m delivering the mail.”

    “Ah. Yes. Well then. Thank you.”

    The mailman touched his cap and started away again. Theodore stood in the doorway and watched as he walked away.

    He, then, leaned out the door and looked down. Yes, well. The tower was still there. He closed the door, then frowned, then slid the dusty bolt into place. He walked back to his desk with a distinct lack of bustle, and in reaching for his hat, remembered he still had a letter in his hand.

    He broke the wax seal, unfolded the letter, and read the words over the tip of his nose. He threw it in the hearth at once. He was quite happy with his current scrying mirror, thank you very much.

    1. Lee Strangely Avatar
      Lee Strangely

      I get very strong 1800’s vibes from this story (which is what I assume to be the intended setting). I like how the story builds up in intensity, implying something off or unnatural about the mailman’s arrival, but in the end he does exactly what he said he would do and delivered the mail. On top of that it’s even funnier when the letter becomes the main focus, only for the main character to skim over it and throw it out. It’s like watching R2-D2 appear, expecting him to be delivering the Death-Star plans, but it ends up just being spam mail. maybe it’s because I’ve read and wrote too many fantastical-oriented stories, but this did not go the way I expected, and I’m okay with it. I enjoyed this. Great job!

    2. Robin Graves Avatar
      Robin Graves

      This was fun! My main critique is that I think you undersold your own punchline in the end. It’s easy to completely graze over the detail of being in a tower, and I think if you played that up a bit, it would punctuate the oddity of the delivery. The language is also a bit unclear, which leads to the joke falling a little flat. I think it’s really clever, though, but don’t be afraid to really ham it up.

  16. ThatWeirdFish Avatar
    ThatWeirdFish

    Uh… hi. Okay, if I crash here? (The Depths Files/Darkspell Universe)
    By ThatWeirdFish

    Trip, disguised as a redhead with curly hair and a panicked smile, bolted through the line of trees towards the first house he could see.

    Note: Werewolves don’t like losing card games. And spontaneous hugs. And my face.

    The werewolf’s howl of frustration stung his ears as he climbed the iron fence and vaulted over it.

    Also, note: Midnight parkour over iron fences is stupid. Ya cut yerself really bad. Don’t do it again.

    Trip grunted as he tumbled through the branches of a tree to the lawn below. He lay facedown in the grass for a few moments before he felt it.

    Something much worse than the werewolf was pissed at him. And he had just trespassed into its house. So, naturally, he did the most logical thing at that moment and scrambled for cover.

    Rose bushes, perfect! Thorns, not perfect! Ow ow ow ow! How can they be this sharp?

    Note numero three: Roses are very mean and should not be trusted. Or hugged, for that matter.

    He flattened himself against the ground, trying to wedge himself free of the thorns. Nope, even the trunks are spikey. What kind of rose is this? And who would want to keep it? He stiffened at the sound of footsteps coming closer.

    Great. Bleedin’ everywhere and limboing under a bush. Fantastic first impression yer making, mate. Maybe… ya can save it?

    He awkwardly got to his feet through the bush. It took a few jerks, but he eventually got free and stood as casually as his fear would let him. People hide in bushes all the time. This is… normal… right?

    Nope! Not normal! The stranger slammed Trip against the wall and pinned him against it. He tried to smile as cold magenta eyes burned into his green.

    “And who might you be?” The young man asked, a wave of guilt flooding off him.

    “Name’s Trip, mate,” Trip winced as the man gripped his wounded arm. “Sorry ‘bout yer garden. Runnin’ for yer life makes ya careless.”

  17. The Missing Link Avatar
    The Missing Link

    Heavy Hangs the Hand that Holds the Torch

    The Missing Link

    Late one night, I lay in bed, a much-needed respite to end the week. I drifted off in restless sleep to that world where I could be free. A world that could be anything I desire, a world where I have that choice.

    That night I saw a field of flowers, calmly sweet along a river, but then on the other side was a peculiar visitor. This interloper wore a cloak, and underneath a mask. It smiled empty like one of those emblazoned on theater signs. The creature tilted its head and began to speak with mocking bow, “Hail to the king who reigns o’er feather and cotton, long may he yet reign.”

    “Who are you?” I asked my guest, “Why have you come here?”

    The thing did not answer me but turned away with a spring in its step. I desperately repeated my plea as dream became nightmare, “Who are you? Please… answer me. I do not understand.”

    I chased the thing across the burning fields, the river now subsumed by lava, flowing as it ran away. The cold behind me chilled my back as I gave him chase. I crossed that blazing river to identify my ill met guest. As I ran, I saw the faces and heard the cries of people dead and dying. The wraith gave no answer as I continued to follow. It danced up through the gibbets, and amid the skulls it sang, “Heavy hangs the hand that holds the torch.”

    I screamed and pleaded, “Leave my head!”
    The wraith then paused and laughed with glee, “Now then, does your liege finally see?”

    I could not hear its next words as I awoke with a jolt of pain, but I knew what they were by the ice in my son’s eyes as he removed his knife. What the creature meant to say then, I realized in a final moment of clarity, “I am you, and you are me.”

  18. Robin Graves Avatar
    Robin Graves

    Clouds on the Horizon
    By: Robin Graves

    “Beans again?” asked Scotty, deflated.

    “And spam,” I replied, fighting with the lid. I up-ended the can and shook, freeing the lump of congealed meat with a shloop.

    His face was sour. “It’s cold.”

    “We have to conserve power.”

    “Can’t we have MREs? Those warm themselves up.”

    “MREs are for special occasions,” I said, not knowing myself what that meant anymore. “Cold beans aren’t going to kill you.”

    “I wish they would.”

    Dad had told me that, in experiments where people were kept away from sunlight and anything that told time, they would adjust to a different, longer schedule, something closer to a 31-hour cycle. They completely lose their sense of time. It could have been weeks, maybe even months since Scotty and I sealed ourselves in the bunker. It all dragged like an eternity.

    At something approximating my 3AM, I woke from another nightmare–the same nightmare I always had. Mom and Dad running towards me before a blast wave tears across the earth, and I slam the door on their outstretched hands. Truth is, I had no idea what happened to them, but that didn’t stop the guilt from choking my thoughts. All I knew was that Scotty and I were here and they weren’t.

    “That nightmare again?” I heard Scotty’s small voice from the darkness.

    “What are you doing up, bud?” He didn’t respond. I grabbed a flashlight and followed where I thought I’d heard his voice. He was standing on top of the air filtration unit, his ear as close to the grate in the ceiling as he could get it.

    “I heard someone.”

    There was no way. Even if someone had managed to survive the initial explosion of a megaton bomb, the surrounding area would still be radioactive. The metal unit groaned under my weight as I joined him, ear to the sky. There was only the hum of the filtration system working as intended.

    I hopped down, holding my arms out to help Scotty. “You shouldn’t get your hopes up. Remember what Dad told us about particle decay–”

    There was a knock at the door.

  19. VeryBoringName Avatar
    VeryBoringName

    A Deathly Familiar Visitor
    By: VeryBoringName

    She pulled up her dark dress as she stepped down the stairs. They creaked and their echoes reverberated in the empty halls of her estate, it was so lonely in here. She wondered what kind of guest would come in such dreadful, stormy weather.

    She pulled on the oaken door, and gasped.

    “Elizabeth! I haven’t seen you in such long time!”

    She wanted to scream, she wanted to run, hide, no, it couldn’t be real! Yet, the figure in the red shirt with white buttons moved closer and hugged her, smearing mud and blood on her.

    “But, you died in Crimea! I receive a letter and-”

    As she moved further away, and away from the hug, the following figure stepped into the light, and she saw William’s face, just like 3 years ago.

    “I- I can see the holes where the bullets pierced your flesh! They, they go through your heart! No, no, it can’t be.”

    She lamented further, but gradually fear faded away from her voice, and sadness started to appear. She stopped falling back, and sat down on a nearby chair, as tears started to roll.

    “I must’ve gone mad, you’ve died long ago.”

    William took her hand.

    “And yet, I now feel alive again.”

    She only started to cry harder, not looking up at him.

    “Then why are you here, did I die? Has my heart broken now physically too?!”

    He gently placed his cold finger on her chin and lifted it up, he was kneeling, just as that day in the pavilion in the gardens. He was holding her hand, just like that time, and sadness slowly started to vanish.

    “No my dear Elizabeth, I am dead, but I have dragged myself through war torn Crimea, and the steppes of Ukraine, farms of Poland, factories of Prussia and fields of Flanders, and through the mud at the bottom of the channel, and all the way here through the countryside, for one thing.”

    He stood up and placed a kiss on her forehead.

    “To spend a night with you.”

    1. Lee Strangely Avatar
      Lee Strangely

      I love the scene that this paints in my mind. It reminds me of the kind of ending you would see in some over-the-top historical fiction or in a classic black and white film with a prominent romantic subplot. I really want to see more of this story, especially what led up to this point.

    2. LewdCharizard Avatar
      LewdCharizard

      Is he there, or is he an apparition? I figure he’s got to be an apparition, being covered in mud and blood and standing there with bullet holes would be kinda gruesome if he was actually an animated corpse. Maybe she’s imagining what it would be like if he returned to see her one last time, and that if it were possible he would literally drag is corpse across the country to see her before he left. But then again he did touch her with his cold fingers. Either way, it’s a good story about grief.

    3. Connor A. Avatar
      Connor A.

      The best way I can describe it is “gothic romance,” since it’s about a dead man who dragged himself back to his wife, but it’s framed in such a sweet way that you can’t really be all that terrified despite the imagery the man’s body evokes. You also did a great job with explaining everything the reader needed to know to understand what was happening in such a short amount of time. Great job!

  20. Connor A. Avatar
    Connor A.

    Misguided Wish (Fae Wish)
    By Connor A.

    How did you get here?

    No matter. If you sought me out, then you must have a desperate wish. Something you believe to be unachievable through conventional means. Well then, what is it? Fame? Fortune? Love?

    A perfect family?

    Allow me to be sure I understand your situation. You have a rather large clan, and you are the matriarch that ensures it does not fall to anarchy. However, in the years following the death of an important clan member, it has become harder to keep your hold over them. Your children are at odds with you, your own father has abandoned his own personal health, and all the while more and more friends and clan members are becoming estranged. So you wish to make sure the remaining people in your life obey you.

    If I may ask, you are sure that you are unable to fulfill your wish yourself, yes? Because from what I understand, your wish is not for family, but contr—

    …Of course. I am clearly in the wrong. I apologize.

    If you wish to go through with this, then I need a specific item. The Chrysanth Dagger. With it and blood from the members of your clan, you will be able to control them. You will find it in the fledgling Flora Court, though do be careful. There is a power struggle occurring with the group that oversees that land.

    …You see, my dear guest, I would fetch it myself if I could. But, as I humbly said just now, there is a power struggle there. A dangerous one at that. I will also consider this fetch quest as your payment for my services, so I will say this again. If you truly wish to have this “perfect family,” you must bring me that dagger.

    Do we have an agreement?

    Good. One of my servants will provide you with the items you will need for this quest. I do hope you are good at managing resources.

    Now go. Before the situation in the Flora Court can devolve any further.

    1. Interesting idea, telling the story in the second person. It really makes it feel like the narrator is addressing the reader. Though I do suspect there is a person in story they are talking to, since this very much feels like the first half of a conversation, one which really gives insight into their quarry, without us ever even hear them say a word. I’m definitely intrigued.

      This is a new universe you’re writing in, right? It’s a really interesting introduction. It sets up a lot of questions, I’m very curious to see the answers to. Who is the narrator talking to and what happened with their clan? Also, who is the narrator? By the title, I assume they are some kind of fae?

      Good story!

    2. Arith_Winterfell Avatar
      Arith_Winterfell

      I found this story interesting from a structural point of view. I can see how you made the non-fae character not have any direct lines we as readers can “hear” from our point of view as readers. But I had to wonder, why we couldn’t hear what she had to say? I get that we were suppose to come to see her character through the point of view of the fae speaker’s responses to her and through the nature of her wish. To that effect, I found it interesting that you chose to do it that way. But what does doing it that way achieve in terms of effect on the reader? I’m not saying this wasn’t done well. It was done well and it was an interesting story. I just ended up wondering why we couldn’t have the silent character’s identity fleshed out by her own words? It’s an interesting approach and a fun story exploring the fae and how their machinations play out.

    3. I kinda like the format of this story. It’s interesting to make it in second person, because so often when that’s used the reader can reject it and break the immersion intended, but I like the fact that the “reader” character doesn’t have any lines and all you have to go on is what the Fae says.

      The story itself is pretty intriguing as well. I did get that feeling of “Quest! Let’s go!” at the end since the story was basically a setup for the plot of a bigger story. I dig it. I like the motivations and the straight forward, find me the thing and I’ll grant your wish nature of it all. Very cool!

  21. Not Just Any Guest (a Tiefling Tale) [From Private]
    C. M. Weller

    Tallo’s official title was The Boy, despite being a girl. It was her job to take in deliveries, take out the garbage, take down the laundry, take up the clean linens, and generally take the blame. She had no idea how she was going to get blamed for this one, but that was part of the ‘joy’ of her work.

    When the Earl Valiant said, “The Boy will show you the available suites,” and rang his bell, Tallo rushed into the room to face…

    A figure dressed in black, with a face and form from storybooks. Blue skin. Shining yellow eyes. Indigo hair and slightly spiralled upright horns. And a spaded tail twitching behind him. A Demon Lord! In her lifetime!

    “Stop staring, Boy, and see the Viscount Kormwind to accommodations fit for the heir!”

    Tallo bobbed a curtsey, “Yessir. Sorry, sir. If you’d follow me, m’lord?” She turned and rushed towards the empty suites of the castle, realising in horror that no footfalls trailed her. She turned to glance behind, but there he was, keeping pace without a sound.

    When he spoke, he had a Zemnian accent. “You have questions. I will answer them.”

    Tallo had to blurt, “I thought it was only Viscount Spitebane as heir.”

    “Not shocked. One of the puff titles for all Kormwinds is ‘Living Shame of Whitekeep’. The old man prefers me invisible or dead, so he won’t have to admit it.”

    “Admit… what?”

    “That he sired a Demon Lord, that he did things to stifle me, that all his plans have turned to muck. Take your pick.” A very sharp and menacing grin. “I am not going to be invisible for very much longer.”

    As she showed him a suite just like Spitebane’s, Tallo had to wonder how it was all going to be her fault.

    1. Arith_Winterfell Avatar
      Arith_Winterfell

      compared to many of the stories I’ve read about our Viscount Kormwind friend it is interesting to see this story told to us from the point of view of Tallo, the Boy. It was interesting to see the reaction to him from Tallo’s point of view. Not to mention how the story closed with Tallo wondering how she would be blamed for things. It highlights the issues of blame and responsibility both for Tallo and for our tiefling friend. One other things I also wanted to highlight was also the line, “It was her job to take in deliveries, take out the garbage, take down the laundry, take up the clean linens, and generally take the blame.” I REALLY liked this line as it plays up almost poetically the various chores handed down to Tallo, but also neatly sums up her position as one who receives blame through the rhythmic pattern of repetition of the word “take.” All in all a fun and interesting scene that’s a well written exploration of the issues of blame.

      1. Joke liberally stolen from Sir Terry Pratchett [GNU]. Just don’t ask me which book this is in, but I know some of the format was about Tiffany’s dress in Wee Free Men.

        I love a good bookend in narrative and the blame is that for this. Of course my boy Kosh is going to at least take her under a wing, so to speak.

    2. Lol now THAT is how you do an introductory paragraph. It’s already been said but you described everything you needed to know about The Boy right then and there and did so both directly and humorously.

      Seeing Kormwind through her eyes was really interesting. Both in his appearance and the albeit creepy silence he moves in. You got some nice worldbuilding in there and capped it off with a pretty funny ending bring us back to that excellent introduction. Loved this take on the prompt.

      1. Kosh’s habitual silence is going to be a reoccurring theme during his return-to-home shenanigans. Sometimes deliberately, he will put the wind RIGHT up people. In the case of poor Tallo, he thought he _was_ making noise. Whoops.

        I once described Kosh as having, “a soft spot for kids that’s roughly the size of Russia.”

        Bookending FTW.

  22. SunflowerBoi Avatar
    SunflowerBoi

    Away for the Holidays (No Rest in the City Universe)
    By SunflowerBoi

    Once he got out of the car, Oliver’s scarf and parka that were supposed to be his bastion against the elements did nothing to halt the blows of the chilling wind. After closing the car, he glaced over to his husband who held  two neatly wrapped presents in his arms and was smiling at newly created clouds of mist.

    “How on earth are you not freezing?” Oliver’s voice quaked as he rushed over to Aleksei’s side.

    “The cold doesn’t really bother me.” Aleksei’s voice kept its familiar jolly tune and his eyes began to reflect on old memories. “If fact, it reminds me of my home back in Kazan, yet Kazan was much colder than this, I think.”

    “Do you ever miss it?”

    “Not particularly. Like I’ve told you, I don’t have many memories of living in Russia.” Aleksei sighed out and smiled at another newly made cloud. Tilting his head, he gestured the door of a brick house. “Shall we?”

    “Yes!” Oliver followed Aleksei up the stairs of the house. “You told your mother we were coming, right?”

    Oliver was met with silence.

    “Aleksei, you told her we were coming, right?”

    He was met with more silence that broke when they got to the porch.

    “I wanted to surprise her.” His voice quivered out a poorly constructed lie.

    “You didn’t tell her?”

    “I though I did.”

    Oliver reeved a sigh and gave the door a hardy knock. It took a few minutes, but the door opened with angelic gold light, and there to greet them was Aleksei’s mother, Lillia. Hugging with enough strength to topple them both,  she spoke to Aleksei in their native tongue then turned to Oliver with a familiar jolly smile.

    “Oliver, how are you doing sweetie?”

    “Currently, freezing.”

    “Then, come in, come in.” Before he could speak, Lillia bounded inside. “Gegor, look who’s here!”

    Gazing up at Aleksei, the two shared a warm smile and followed the spry old woman inside.

    1. I just love the short but sweet banter. I’m all for the simple dialogue that doesn’t actively try to be endearing. I find little moments like this, with characters just talking like everyday people you would see in your neighborhood, quite charming. There is one thing I was a bit confused about, however. Are Aleksei’s parents living outside of Russia? I had the impression that Russia was his anscestral home, but that might be just me. Aside from that, I think you’ve created a sweet little moment. Trope-y as it may be by today’s standards, the “surprise meeting with their parents” sort of deal, I believe you’ve delivered something that’s quite unique here. By making the moment more focused with the interaction rather than the scenario itself, the story comes off as a charming and heartwarming slice-of-life. Great job!

  23. Sticks and Stones May Break My Bones But…
    By Marx

    They had a demon to deal with. A demon who had been around for multiple millenia. Even among their ranks, not many Earthbound immortals can handle that kind of longevity. He was a threat and he needed to be treated as such. Laila was only trying to show Matt that she had ways to restrain a powerful demon if need be. And if Matt had come alone, there wouldn’t have been an issue.

    But he didn’t…

    Mara looked at her surroundings, gleefully spinning around. “I would NOT have expected this play from you. I’m impressed.”

    Laila grit her teeth at the demon. “For the last time… this is not a sex dungeon…”

    Mara ran her hands along a whip hanging on the wall and smirked back at Laila. “Sure, it isn’t. Because you’re an angel and pure and all that. As I said. Impressed.”

    “I’m a warrior angel! My literal job was to-”

    Mara had already stopped listening. Her eyes practically turned into hearts as she very inappropriately touched the manacles hanging from the ceiling and turned back to give Matt a puckish smile. “My safe word is Voldemort.”

    “It’s NOT a sex dungeon!” Laila stamped her feet petulantly.

    “You know, technically speaking, you should have more than one safe word.” Matt chuckled, clearly enjoying the banter between his familiars. “One to slow things down. One to stop. And if necessary, one if you can’t talk. Though that last one wouldn’t technically be a word, I suppose…”

    Matt then noticed that he was being stared at in silence. “…what?”

    “I have never been more attracted to you than I am in this moment.” Mara purred, practically swinging from the manacles.

    “Why do you even KNOW that?!” Laila asked, her tone a blend of horror and intrigue.

    “Magic is great and all but the internet is a worrying, wonderful place.” Matt flashed a toothy grin.

    “Where’s the keys?” Mara asked Laila eagerly. “Nevermind! I won’t need them!”

    “This is a place for the capture and interrogation of supernatural beings!” Laila groaned in exasperation. “Stop defiling this place with your… your filth!”

    1. Oh, I love the dynamic between Mara and Laila. It is absolutely wonderful to watch these two debating the validity of calling Laila’s basement a… well, sex dungeon (totally with Mara on that, by the way). But seriously, the dialogue was absolutely spot on and it really made me laugh. I love to see these two interact.

      And Matt as well, who could have easily been a third wheel here, is so seamless in this interaction. All three fit perfectly and I can totally tell that both he and Mara have a bit of a mischievous streak and like to mess with poor, (presumably) long-suffering Laila. (Also, sidenote, I find it ironic that Laila calls “sex dungeon” filth, but is totally okay with capture and enhanced interrogation.)

      Great story!

      1. Lol perception is reality. A legit dungeon used as a sex dungeon is a sex dungeon. And while the concept for this story had me chuckling in my head, it was that last line that really did it for me.

        It makes complete sense for Laila’s character. She was literally made to be a warrior. So capture, interrogation, murder, despite her being an angel are all just a day at the office for her, but sexualizing it is an immediate affront to that.

        And yes, Laila’s embarrassment about such things makes her a constant target for both Matt and Mara. Lol I’m really glad it was an entertaining as I was hoping. Thanks so much for the review!

    2. MacBoiZen Avatar
      MacBoiZen

      I’ll be the first to admit that usually this kind of setup doesn’t really appeal to me, but I’ll say that I did get a kick out of this one. I’m a little bit of a sucker for witty banter, so the relationship between the three characters was pretty entertaining to read. Would definitely love to see more of this particular dynamic.

      1. Thank you so much! I’m glad you enjoyed it lol. The dialogue was one of the main reasons I wanted to do this one so I’m glad it carried the story so successfully.

    3. Connor A. Avatar
      Connor A.

      Marx, I am wheezing right now. I love the subversion of this piece; opening it up as if it will be a serious piece only for these three to start bickering over the location is both a nice relief from the darker stories these past few weeks and an interesting meta spin on the prompt with its tone. Great job as always.

      1. Lol not gonna lie. The swerve with the intro was absolutely done on purpose for that specific reason. It was fun switching it up a bit to do something humorous this week. Thank you so much! I’m glad you liked it!

    4. Honestly I was expecting BDSM so I wasn’t far off, but I was expecting Laila to demonstrate a technique or spell of sorts that someone walked in on.

      I’m curious about what the place actually looks like though. I can’t imagine it gets much use. And it even being a place on Earth seems unlikely. So I don’t think a gross, dank, stone walled dugeon you might imagine at first is the case… I’m thinking something more like an operating room? Ya know, something Matt might actually be okay getting dirty in.

      Regardless, Mara immediately going to “kinky” I think says more about her than the dungeon.

      I also liked how Matt was the Neutral party here, bringing up proper bondage procedures and such.

      And poor, poor, Laila. Feels like she always ends up the butt of these jokes.

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