Ramblings

“Holy moly! Me oh my! You’re the apple of my eye. Ain’t nobody please me more than you.”
Edward Sharp looked at the apple of his eye and wished he didn’t have problems with digesting fructose. He was torn; he didn’t know what to do. He wished she was a carrot. So he could eat her…eat her out…take her down and…aw fuck.

Embarrased, he tried to hide the small wet stain. But, the flow gre ever stronger and impossible to hide. The flow. The unity of life overcame them. Surrendered and soft.

Tensile sat up from sleeping, arleady screaming. But despite completely emptying their lungs, not a sound escaped their lips. Fear gripped their innards like a fist as they stood in terror. They were frozen — they couldn’t even scream.

“My healthy insurance will never cover this!”

All the dcotors they visited aabout it agreed within moments. So, they sold everything, bought train tickets and went to Oregon — where assisted suicide was just legalized.

Fable said “goodnight” and through to head to bed, but was interrupted.

“Wait, Fable, beore you sleep…I need to tell you something,” Crimson whispered.

In the distance, under the stars and street lights, a dog barked and a plastic bag rattled in the breeze. We found our peace, our paradise. So we decided to stick a flag in it and call it “ours” and scare anyone away who said otherwise. But a lot of people said “otherwise” and they said it didn’t make any sense. That didn’t stop the plan though, so the bombs were loaded up. It was going to be the longest drive.

“Today is THE day I turn over a new leaf,” said Bitter.

So Bitter flipped through their collection, picked the shiniest, the greenest, and turned it over.

A new orld? Yes, Bitter had stumbled into a magical new world. Bitter felt that this new world had given them a new fantastic point of view, one where capitalism was but a figment of a dream.

Stunned, Bitter said, “How can we make this on Earth?”

“With chemicals and mass deception of the public, you shit,” Blue barked.

This job was probably not going to work out.

In a galaxy far, far away, a badass black woman kicked in the door. Boom! SPLOSION!!!

It was such an amazing explosion that all of the people watching the film stood up and cheered! The theater, naturally, had planned for this and unloaded twenty gallons of confetti on the people.

Andrew, who is, as everyone knows, allergic to paper and paper products immediately broke out in hives.

I shouted, “I have my WFR, I’ll get the benydril! Does anyone have an eppi pen?”

I have my eppi pen! What should I do with it? It echoed into the silence. And so it goes. So it goes.

The ship was sailing in gail force winds…when Pirate Pete grit his teeth and grabbed his blade. Teeth aside, the blade whipped through the air, slicing and dicing.

The blood flow from that alone was uncomfortably thick, but Gate didn’t stop. They just had to know how many licks it takes to get to the middle of the hemoglobin jaw breaker. They took a deep breath and glared at the bloody thing and stuck out their tongue! It was going to be a long day.

And it was a long day.

HUrtling through space, the spaceship began to catch fire. The stores were out of water from drinking too much and not pissing enough, so the crew decided to open the juice packs.

“I can’t stand this juice,” the first mate bellowed.

“I only have lemons and when a person has lemons, what do they do?” asked the captain.

And God, Lord of Lords, Kind of Kings thundered back, “Suck them dry.”

And so we did, and it was disturbingly gross. Why did we do that?

Sally walked slowly home one clear evening. While she was walking, she stopped and stared.

“Why am I here? Why is anything here?” she wondered.

“These are hard questions to be pondering,” said the Raven.

And the massive black bird would have flown away at that, but a gun shot sounded and its head blew off. All that remained was a cloud of smoke and feathers and a meal for one. The skin was crunchy and delish; a worthwhile decision.

Pondering the depths of a murky pond, the frog quietly swam under a lilly pad. What he found there was astonishing. When he saw it, he said, “Welp, I’m out on this round…no, like for real.”

“We can’t just lose a teammate this far in! You’ve got to stay!”

But she had made up her mind; this threesome wasn’t working out. So, she resolved to try again Tuesday and fake it til you make it. Or not.

Tuesday rolled around…she still hadn’t made it. Faking wasn’t working. She needed a new stragegy.

From the dark wood emerged the last of its kind. Lonely, they stared at the edge of the forest and watched for compatible creatures. When they saw one, they went up to it and said, “Is this my house? Is this my beautiful wife?”

Watching the days go by.

‘Yeah, Talking Heads was such a great band,’ the passerby thought. ‘Sarcasm, you jack ass,’ the passerby wanted to stop and clarify — but it had only been a thought, so. You know how it goes.

Closing the door, the bartender was finally able to head home and get some sleep. That would have been true, but the door kicked back open with a crash. In the doorway stood his worst nightmare — the one, the only: Big Bird.

Standing tall and brilliantly yellow, the large bird began to speak. “Today’s letter is N, for NIGHTMARE.”

Suddenly, everything went black and the bird let out a scream!

“Don’t act like you know me. You *don’t* know me.”

Everyone around got really quiet at that.
Five, four, three, two, one, zero.

Flash fiction written sentence-by-sentence by the Gingerbread House and friends.

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