Never one to fight or even advocate violence, Barry was in a bit of a pickle. He was being robbed by a rather nasty man.
Barry knew he had to act swiftly. He needed something to happen. Something that would stop the robber from being physically capable of the robbery. Barry scrambled over his mind mountain of ideas.
Tickle?
Twist his arm causing some sort of ‘burn’?
Firmly wag his finger at the robber?
No, no, no. He had to hurt him somehow. But where?
Lightbulb moment: where it hurts!!!
He’d always been a rule breaker. Since his time in nursery. Putting sand in the water trough. Putting water in the sand pit. Not napping when everyone else did.
In school he’d be late for lessons, go to the toilet without permission and refuse to write in anything but capital letters.
Rule breaking was going so well. Free in mind. Free spirited. Never got him into anything more than a mild disagreement.
That was until he was a dick about it.
Derek murdered 17 adults in an attempted bank robbery.
Frank knew as soon as his right leg came to a sudden halt. He had stopped. Fully stopped. Now he’d have to ‘stop and chat’.
To just move off now would seem strange, rude or unusual. He should have kept his momentum above zero. His mass still existed. It was surely velocity’s fault. While he knew which direction he wanted to go in his absolute lack of any speed fucked it right up.
Pete regaled tails of domestic chores, work, things his children did that he thought were amazing, cats and his latest illness.
Frank was anything but spellbound.
Seven lives were at stake. Seven poor, cold and fearful adults lost in the wilderness of the Snowy Mountains. Rob was if anything determined.
Despite Pedro’s respectful suggestion that Rob keep his pants on, the hero of the story swiftly took action.
The ‘thwup-thwup-thwup’ of a helicopter’s rotor blades revolving had never before sounded so lacking.
Needless to say, the seven lost souls perished and Pedro wouldn’t ever look Rob in the eye again.
Martin was loving it. He’d just finished his 9th set of 15 reps.
The man felt nothing. No burn, no lactic acid build-up, no burning desire to give up and go eat a burrito. He’d be ripped in no time.
Bob had had enough. What was the point anyway?
In 4 billion years Andromeda was due to collide with the Milky Way. If he managed to survive that kafuffle, the sun would soon burn out 1 billion years later.
The inevitability of it all led Bob to freeze, like a rabbit in headlights, completely unable to move except for unconscious breathing.
It took Bob 167 days to pass. For he had been a fat fuck who was as stubborn as a butcher’s dog.
Determined to save himself $8,495 Benedikt got a little bit excited in his workplace’s copy room.
Sure it wasn’t “lifelike” and it didn’t have a “real-feel” skin. But it certainly was “wipe clean”. What’s more it could offer a pretty detailed photocopy of every thrust, should it be so desired.
It wasn’t long before Benedikt, like the photocopy machine’s toner, was fully spent.
Despite the obvious pitfalls, Frank didn’t give two fucks.
He blocked the plug, taped up the gaps and holes and went full steam ahead with the power shower.
Luxury, bliss and all things good. He couldn’t praise himself enough.
As the power shower, did it’s thing and the water level rose above Frank’s things he thought to himself. “My life is fucking awesome!”
Frank’s smile was as wide as two very fat ladies.
2872.
“Incorrect PIN. Please try again,” said the ATM with words on a screen.
2827.
“Incorrect PIN. Please try again.”
“Shit, shit, I never forget a PIN. I all my years, with all my cards….never,” said Felix to the ATM. “Erm…. maybe 2782, no, 2287, no that can’t be it, definitely started with 28 because that’s how many times I’ve eaten a spider.”
“I don’t care,” said the ATM with capital letters. “Stop wasting my time. Don’t talk shit. Please try again.”
Confused, tired and downbeat Felix leant against the keypad in the vain hope that luck would play a part.
It didn’t. His card was now useless. Felix was not only alone, naked and covered in honey. He was also broke.
“…..Hello,” said the other end of the line. “Hello, is anyone there?”
“………..,” said Alan’s left testicle.
“Do you need any help? Where are you? Hello?” asked the operator.
“………………………….,” said Alan’s right testicle, strangely taking longer to say nothing than the left testicle.
“I’m going to have to hang up if you do not respond. Is anybody there? Do you need help?”
Alan’s penis silently sighed knowing that it would never be able to summon up the strength to reply. Deflated, a tear dribbled out.
