My fiction stories.
“You have to consider your brother.” her former employer said.
“What?” Julie asked in protest.
“He’s been diagnosed, as you are aware.”
“It’s not exactly a death sentence.” Julie stated.
Julie was currently working for a well-established law firm. She began actually enjoying practicing law.
“He’s a liability, and I think you can understand that.”
Julie’s temper hit the boiling point.
“But the death penalty isn’t even in effect anymore!” she screamed.
She was right. This was good ol’ Cali-forn-i-a.
“It was in 2014. Putting prisoners to death is against the law there.”
“Exactly!” I screamed back. “He’s been sitting there for a good ten years, tops. He’ll be grumpy and ready to talk.”
“Who are you after?” Julie demanded.
“Alexei Ivanov is the man I’m after.
Embracing the shell was Jason’s next big Mindefusement move. He just had to convince the absolutely one person to convince: Mindefusement’s lead counsel, Julie Biggs.
“Julie, I’ve set this up so we can talk about this new character assassination project.”
“Shouldn’t be done, Jason, I’ve made that clear.”
“Well, you said it would fuck us.” Jason replied.
“Not would. If we do this, you might as well get your résumé curated.”
“So I’ve watched every single Final Destination movie that has ever, ever, come out, and I have this one death scene I absolutely have to fucking see.” Andrews screamed enthusiastically to the other Google Hangout members.
“Go ahead,” Roth agreed.
“So it’s a gas station. There is no body there. Clouds are stormy lookin’. There looks like there’s going to be a fucking tornado, right?”
Through her small Google Hangout she could make out an array of faces ordered to her beck-and-call.
“So we have the Storyboard people here, Stella. We’d like you to go over your torture scene.”
“Oh, I’ve already explained it.” Stella replied.
The director, Roth, whom they commonly use, reads his note cards: “It says you want a woman’s baby cut out with it burning to death?”
“Thank you all for attending this very important meeting. As I stated in the e-mail, this could very well be an excellent and highly-profitable new venture for our company.”
The room was silent. The oblong table which seats eight was filled to capacity.
Security experts, an ex-FBI agent, the dreaded attorney, and one overworked accountant were among those in attendance.
Standing in front of a dreary and neglected projector screen was the CEO of Mindefusement.
The following is a short story. Caution: language
“What we’re talking about is a cheap and easy way to kill your enemies.”
It certainly didn’t seem cheap, and it certainly didn’t seem easy.
You see, I have what some would call a societal stigma. I’m fucked in the head, as some would put it. A bit of a loner, a bit of a sociopath, and perhaps a closet serial killer.
My good friend and I was having a religious conversation. I was offering my insight when one of his friends was bitten by a mosquito.
She quickly squashed the bug and sent it to the fiery infernal of hell (a quarantined part, I’m sure, as Satan apparently hates mosquitos too).
She exclaimed, “Gosh dangit, I was bitten again.”
I chimed back, trying to be offensively witty, “Don’t you mean God damnit?
Dad: Good news little Johnny, I’ve talked your Grandma Congress into buying you a portable childhood vehicle system.
Johnny: A bicycle?
Dad: Yep.
Little Johnny: But Dad, I don’t need a bike.
Dad: It doesn’t matter, Grandma has sent the money and it’s our job to spend it.
Little Johnny: Why can’t I use it on something I need?
Dad: Because Grandma has already sent the money with specific guidelines on how to spend it.
“I have to admit. It’s been a while.”
“That’s okay. It happens to the best of us.” He said.
“It’s just embarrassing to admit.” She confessed, “Because I was so good at it once.”
“Like I said, don’t worry about it. I bet you’ll catch on quickly.”
“I’m just scared. I don’t want to screw up.”
He smiled at her and whispered softly, “Even the best screw up.