Kevin's Stories

Dead is Relative

2007-09-26T16:02:07Z

Emilio woke on a gurney in excruciating pain. “Holy Mother of God,” he screamed, clutching his left cheek, which was dripping blood from a lengthy, but precise cut.

Emilio was flanked by two men in gowns and surgical masks, one holding a bloody scalpel. Although he could not see their mouths, their eyes suggested surprise.

“Are you with the Federales?” Emilio asked trembling.
“No we are with the Coroner’s Office” said one of the masked men.
What are you doing? Emilio asked.
“We were performing your autopsy before you rudely interrupted us,” said the other masked man.
“Autopsy?” asked Emilio?
“Yes, you are dead.”
“I am not dead.”
“You are dead. We have the paperwork. Jose show him the paperwork.”
One of the masked men held a sheet front of his face. “See?” said the masked man, “The box marked ‘dead’ is checked.”
“But that is incorrect”, shouted Emilio.
“You may file an appeal with the Department.”
When? Asked Emilio.
“After we finish our autopsy. Please lie back down.”

Say Goodbye to Linz and Ty

2007-09-25T21:13:37Z

An insignificant, boulder-sized asteroid hurtled through the silent corridors of space towards the blue-green planet directly in its path. Although it was traveling at thousands of miles an hour, it moved without hurry.

Linz and Ty laid side-by-side, the crowns of their heads touching slightly, in a lush field of grass and daises. The day was glorious. The sky was a cloudless, dark blue and the air warm and dry. “Ty, I want you to know something”, Linz said. “Yes?” asked Ty.

“Through the run-on sentences, the bad grammar, and the insipid melodrama, I just want you to know. . .” Linz voice trailed off as she spied a fiery streak in the sky. Ty saw it too. They intertwined hands, sharing in the beauty of the moment.

The atmosphere shredded the asteroid, reducing it to a few harmless particles, except for one fist-sized rock which escaped, falling Earthward. The meteor hit the field of grass and daises with such force it left a crater the size of a house.

Linz and Ty were evaporated instantly.

Was It The Bad Shoes Or A Cry For Help?

2007-09-21T17:26:39Z

Mark vomited on her shoes.
“You drunk a-hole!” Gail screamed.
Mark blearily straightened himself out. “Sorry baby, but wearing brown shoes with a black dress is such a fashion faux pas, I couldn’t take it.”
“You need help, seriously.” Gail said, as she wiped her shoes on Mark’s tee shirt.
“I think that hot dog I had was bad.” Mark croaked.
“Right. You were fine with the 12 beers you had in the last three hours, but the hot dog, well that was too much.” Gail replied sarcastically.
“You’re right, it wasn’t the hot dog, it was the moldy bun.” Mark smiled crookedly because the right side of his face was numb.
“Mark, I am saying this as a friend, because as of this moment we’re through, but you have a drinking problem.” Gail said with a look that combined pity with fury.
“Tell me about it, I am out of beer.” Mark quipped.
Gail sighed, turned her back, and made a call on her cell phone for a ride.
Mark stared at the stain on his shirt, while a small tear trickled down his cheek.

Keith and the zombie dinosaurs

2007-09-21T14:18:04Z

Keith studied the young man closely, looking for some hint of levity. He was pale complicated, with light hair, and apple-red cheeks, which cried out for regular applications of sunblock. His eyes were dark, offering a stark contrast to his translucent skin features, and set wide apart, which provided him maximum peripheral vision. He was humorless.

“Zombie dinosaurs?” Keith’s asked.

“Things got out-of-hand in Area 51. It seems the boys from the zombie department forget to lock the door, so the zombies invaded the Jurassic Park department, and dined on T-Rex, and a few of his friends. A rare case of extreme cross-contamination.” said the young man.

“Don’t you have some urbane Englishman or dapper European on hand for these kinds of things?” Keith asked.

“Our European friends are providing logistical support, but only after we threatened to close Disney World to their citizens. But it’s you we need.” said the young man, presenting his most persuasive smile.

Keith wanted to punch him.

Turn about's fair play Mycroft

2007-09-20T20:36:10Z

We arrived for the funeral promptly at ten
Me, the bovine, and my farmer friend
The village was here, from gawker to baker
To say farewell to the bovine catapult maker

His widow cried boo, hoo, hoo
His infant son said a goo, goo, goo
His friends said silly foo, foo, foo,
the bovine said moo, moo, moo

All agreed he was good with his hands
He started small-simple rubber bands
He got ambitious, it wasn’t his fault
The next thing we knew, he had a catapult

He was so smart, we scratched our heads
Why he didn’t forsee, he would end up dead
As he climbed into the catapult, so will go the yarn
Couldn’t he see? He was aimed right at the barn.

A breach of ficlet etiquette

2007-09-20T19:31:20Z

Keith sat before his computer monitor, a wry smile on his face, as he read one of his more particularly witty stories. Keith generally considered himself the funniest guy in the room, and this particular piece of writing merely served to confirm this already lofty opinion of himself.

Keith heard the door behind him swing open. A bevy of fresh, troubled faces stared at him from the doorway with a mixture of horror and astonishment.

“Dude, you totally hijacked that story” said the appointed spokesman, who had ensconced himself at the front of the v-shaped throng. The faces nodded in agreement.

“I did?” asked Keith.

“Those characters are sacred” the spokesman said earnestly.

“I see” said Keith.

“It was if you rewrote Harry Potter and made him gay for Ron” said the spokesman.

“Harry did always strike me as effeminate.” Keith said, more to himself than the throng.

“We’re watching you” warned the spokesman, and closed the door.

Keith waited several safe moments before laughing.

The first day of school

2007-09-20T16:54:09Z

Juan stood at the heel of the concrete walkway, undulating in the September heat like a serpent’s tongue, and peered hard at the entrance way to the two-story, red brick building that lay before him, beckoning him with promises of ecstasy and agony, but mostly agony.

The voices of freshly-minted teenagers surrounded him. “LaTanya, you best be gettin’ yo azz over here”, he heard one girl cry happily to her friend.

“Shortie, getz out of my way” said a male voice gruffly, hovering in that octave range between childhood and manhood. He startled at the voice, turning toward it fearfully with what he hoped was his most engaging smile, but in moments of panic resembled the smile of the Joker in the Batman comic series. The speaker, however, was addressing a classmate.

Juan was diminutive and smart for his age; two qualities that made him a target for every bully. He adjusted his book-laden backpack, and trudged slowly forward, as if shackled on a chain gang, to his first day in a new school.

One Women's Torture

2007-09-19T21:27:18Z

She was naked, her arms and legs secured to the bedpost and mouth gagged with some neckties I found in her closet. Her muscles flexed slightly as she strained against her binds, testing their strength. I smiled and her pupils dilated wide with fear.

“I’ve got a little surprise for you”, I said mischievously.

“Um, Um, Um” she said, sounding a bit like she was hearing impaired. But I did not need a translation to discern that she was lodging an objection to any surprise I may have in store for her. I shook my head ruefully, in more noble times, women were much more appreciative of romantic gestures like surprises.

I retrieved her cell phone, and selected a number from the directory. I selected the speaker phone and placed it next to her. I removed her gag. I knelt between her legs and slowly applied my mouth to her clitoris.

“Hello, hello” her husband said over the phone.

“Ohhhh, mmmmmm, hi honey” she said, straining to contain her orgasm.

“Bastard” she mouthed to me silently.

Rejuvenated

2007-09-19T17:45:26Z

I looked at the daises and got angry at Ty all over again. The jerk does not even know that I hate daises. Maybe some frumpy, frigid, spandex wearing house mother likes daises, but when you’re in the league of Lindsey, Paris, and Britney, you deserve more than some flowers picked from the side of the road.

I thought about the videoptape and got angry all over again. Teddy and I had been seeing each other for some time, and he was good in bed. And Mitch is oh-so-hot. Its too bad Ty did not know they were in the closet (even though they are his best friends), because I would have asked them to join us.

I really want to see that videotape too to see how hot I was. I should call Teddy, and, maybe Mitch too, so we could have a “private viewing.” That reminds me that I was watching a pretty hot amateur porn video on youtube, and the bedroom in the video looked a lot like my bedroom, and the guy looked a lot like Ty, and the girl a lot like me. What are the chances of that? It’s a small world.