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Johnny had never died before and was very afraid it would happen very soon. He was also deathly afraid of ghosts even though he had never seen one but he was sure that if he did then he would die for sure. He also played the bassoon and was going to play at a concert but he fell asleep on his couch while practicing and was afraid he would be too late for the concert. He went up to the stage and wondered where all the other players in the orchestra were but he played his solo to the audience. But he played very badly and the audience booed at him, and he said "come on it wasn't that bad", but they kept booing and booing. Two hours later the other players came to the concert hall and they found Johnny pale and dead on the stage clutching a paper note. It read: "The audience were ghosts; that's why they booed."
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Apr 2, 2022 14:09
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| # ? Apr 29, 2024 15:55 |
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I was taking notes in class when the ultimate necromancer walked into the lecture hall and sat down next to me. I squirmed in my chair and looked at him out of the corner of my eye. nobody else seemed to notice his staff and cloak and the skeletons who shambled in afterwards and sat in the next row back. he took out a notebook and began taking notes. I looked over quickly to see what he was writing and it said "my skeleton's aint the only one in this hall with they bones showing. check it." I gasped and the lecturer suddenly spun around, dropped his chalk on the floor and was like drat.
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Apr 2, 2022 17:02
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And then I was a skeleton.
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Apr 2, 2022 17:04
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I got the big gay. The End.
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Apr 2, 2022 17:10
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Soon after the big bang, there was a brief period of unpleasantness.
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Apr 2, 2022 17:15
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Baby shoes, pissed n poo poo n barfed in. $50 take it or leave it.
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Apr 2, 2022 17:59
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A murderer was loose in town. The police had no clues except a lot of bodies that had all lost their lives. Suddenly, a man walked into the station, saying "it was me who did it. I'm the killer." They sent him to prison for life, but little did they know that he was already dead. They had to release him immediately.
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Apr 2, 2022 18:18
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When I woke up it was clear I had missed the first few minutes of an event with no cause I could fathom. The entire view out the window was a thick cloud of swirling chalky off white dust being carried off by the wind. Old and young shouting and crying outside and in the rooms behind me. I hobble-lunged down from upstairs dodging the panicked couple I had stayed with overnight. Hoofed it past samey stucco and tile-roofed McMansions, frantically half loaded cars, two deserted looking houses that you could only tell had been mid-paintjob by the ladders, tarps, open garage and Econoline vans, logos now unintelligible, down to house [----] and didn't even have to finesse any info out of that neighbor or the other neighbor like I expected, they were outside telling everyone within earshot what I needed to know. I caught the tail end of what looked to be a mid 60s woman saying that the next door neighbor had written a goodbye note on a Forex trading forum they both frequented and some other one I couldn't make out. She had gone inside to check on her and found her body. No one else had been living with her for at least a week after some older guy left. I started running back. As soon as I made it back through the front door I started searching, grabbing a mug full of what turned out to be scissors in hopes there was a decent pencil or pen inside. After repeating the process with highlighters I gave up and made it nearly to the guest room and my precious cargo, past the couple whom I had left unaddressed in my own panic and determination. The fairer one (I had forgotten both their names after some combination of the polite but awkward dinner the night before and the shock of the morning's events) called out to me while I tossed my bag for paper and envelope. I only noticed her again when she sat down at the edge of the bed. The slant in her shoulders and the look on her face told me if I wanted to excuse myself in an unremarkable fashion, one not involving the police, that I had better give her something. I explained I was looking for my grandfather, who had sent a letter implying he was leaving his temporary lodgings behind. He was estranged from my father and had been worried he would get his number off my phone, hence the letter. He had managed to find a room at a house with an address auspicious to me but not my father or his other children. He made an oblique reference to an obscure song that he knew was burned into my memory, one containing a four digit number as the only spoken words. I didn't know how safe it was to tell her about the inheritance, so I reflexively made as if to close the door, halfheartedly moving from the bed to my knees to paw at the edge of the door. The door was impeded at the halfway point by a hand sewn cotton toy sliding underneath. I could never prove it, but the sight of my gingerly pulling the door back and a tiny frog dressed in a button down being revealed as the cause of the stuck door may have dialed down the tension in both of us such that my simultaneous worry that the door closure would read as a predatory rather than protective move didn't appear to be one she shared. I showed her my grandfather's letter and apologized for the part where he mentioned something bad was coming and that he was going to light out of town for OOOO if i didn't make it there in ten days. I told her I wasn't about to ransack a dead woman's house for any letter he left behind, even with the commotion as cover, and that I was heading home. She arranged the door slightly ajar, talked to her partner downstairs for a minute while I checked my phone for texts i sent my own mentioning their first names and address. (R---- and A---) and sat back down and wrote a short note, placed it in an envelope, asked her to look at and then seal it when she came back in case anyone came asking. Whether or not the visitor seemed in my corner was immaterial. She took it, gave me a slight hug, and I had them drop me off at a Greyhound on the way to their hotel secured by A---. I stared off into the horizon once we were on the freeway. I felt all the speculation burn away through a pinhole in the back of my skull and I closed my eyes. When I woke up, I had a text from R---- explaining that she had talked to the neighbors on either side of the house of interest and included a letter they found, split into several images. I thanked her and tried unsuccessfully to go back to sleep.
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Apr 2, 2022 19:57
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Can we cut out the details for time?
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Apr 2, 2022 19:59
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The clown at the circus took a deep bow and the audience clapped and cheered. Then, suddenly, his big pants and shoes exploded with the force of dynamite. The explosion tore asunder his flesh and his innards splattered all over the horrified onlookers. His balls became deadly projectiles and his poo poo-filled intestines wrapped around an old lady's neck, choking her. "Excellent!" cackled the ringmaster, with the detonator lodged firmly in his hairy rear end. "Now I'm the greatest clown there is, as surely as my name is donald j trump!"
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Apr 2, 2022 20:35
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Stumped. Zeluth fucked around with this message at 01:07 on Apr 3, 2022 |
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Apr 2, 2022 20:37
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I go store. But chip. Go home. Eat chip. Pointy chip no eat good. I ded.
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Apr 3, 2022 01:31
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I’m at a wedding Edit: I poo poo my pants!!! 
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Apr 3, 2022 02:01
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Update: they weren’t actually my pants, whew Edit: new mystery, though
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Apr 3, 2022 02:04
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. Zeluth fucked around with this message at 02:13 on Apr 3, 2022 |
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Apr 3, 2022 02:07
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Professor Shark posted:Update: they weren’t actually my pants, whew whose pants did you poo poo in?
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Apr 3, 2022 02:30
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My wife bought me a gift.
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Apr 3, 2022 02:57
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Man hit In the groin with a football.
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Apr 3, 2022 02:57
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Dog died.
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Apr 3, 2022 02:58
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We were comin' back (somehow drops hat on table with a loud thud as if it were a solid heavy object) from the island of Tinian to Leyte, we had just delivered the bomb. The Hiroshima bomb. Anyway. We delivered the bomb.
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Apr 3, 2022 03:09
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im still a dang virgin!
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Apr 3, 2022 03:15
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Mumpy Puffinz posted:whose pants did you poo poo in? Not sure yet Everyone start checking your pants. If your missing any pants I may have used them for something
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Apr 3, 2022 03:23
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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ulOLYnOthIw
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Apr 3, 2022 03:24
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the
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Apr 3, 2022 04:20
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I always thought it'd be fun to have stories about 221A Baker Street, where a couple foils to Homes and Watson live and try to eavesdrop on them in order to beat them in solving the mystery except they cannot hear very well and are incompetent and end up in the wrong spot/ talking to the wrong people/ etc and loving everything up to make things worse than if they'd just not involved themselves.
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Apr 3, 2022 10:47
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Professor Shark posted:I always thought it'd be fun to have stories about 221A Baker Street, where a couple foils to Homes and Watson live and try to eavesdrop on them in order to beat them in solving the mystery except they cannot hear very well and are incompetent and end up in the wrong spot/ talking to the wrong people/ etc and loving everything up to make things worse than if they'd just not involved themselves. This shark needs more coda.
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Apr 3, 2022 10:57
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I was there on 9th street. Something happened. I knew it before it even started.
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Apr 3, 2022 11:00
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A man had sex with the woman and they became a couple but then he cheated with another woman and so the woman cheated with another man and they left one another for those with whom they had cheated but then the cheaters became the cheated as they cheated once again with each other and then world war 2 happened right on top of them all.
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Apr 3, 2022 12:17
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Short stories? So's my dick.
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Apr 3, 2022 15:10
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The Third Martian Dick Temple Rust red Martian rain pelts my hardsuit like birdshot as I trudge through the mud, trying to get a visual for base. An ancient building, exposed by the terraforming storms. "The surrounding hillside's melted away," I say, pointing my cameras towards a pair of pillars that look like dicks. "You seeing this, Base?" "We're receiving, Steph," Base says. Cheers and applause and amazed curses. I can't help but smile. The mud of the hillside looks like it could sludge over at any second, covering the opening again. "Structure looks stable," I lie. "I'm going inside." No one back at Base objects. With the surface as volatile as it is, this might be our only chance. My heart is pounding in my ears. Adrenaline hitting my system like atropine. I go up three crumbling steps and huddle in the opening. Runnels of red water trickle down the narrow corridor, piles of ancient dust swelling, growing tumescent. At the end is a single cavernous room. I pray that what waits in there will be a trove of art or books or recordings they held dear. Historical records that might tell us how they lived, and what it was that caused their collapse and extinction. Shining my suit lights all over, my heart throbs in my chest at what I see. Shelves all along the walls, and on the shelves, little statue things, each about as tall as my glove. I pick one up and brush it off. It is a perfect specimen. "Steph," Base says, all broken up. "Steph, do you copy? We lost visual. Can you describe?" "It's just more dicks," I say. My mouth is dry, all my enthusiasm drained in an instant. "Say again, over." "It's more dicks. Most of them are about three-inches tall, but some are bigger." "Can you get pictures?" A long silence. I want to argue that I have better things to do than take pictures of mummified Martian dicks, but I know what the response will be. Some of the dicks might be different. One of the dicks might have a deformity that might inform us about Martian physiology and their susceptibility to disease. Or it might indicate dietary changes that caused nutritional deficits, or changes in the atmosphere brought on by pollution. For all we know, the Martians might have preserved these dicks precisely because examining them will closely reveal the secret to why their world died. Those are the arguments that Base will make. This is not my first dick temple. Base will make me come back to the site in a few days, like they always do. I will be ordered to carefully collect the dicks and place them in a vacuum-sealed container. I will take the dicks back to Base to be studied and dissected by our scientists, who will confirm that the dicks are dicks. They will try to make inferences about the size or the quality of the dicks, comparing the dicks to the dicks they found at other sites. There's a short-lived media frenzy when the announcement of the third Martian dick temple is made. I go on television, on some dumb talk show. The host asks what it was like to hold a Martian's dick in my hands. I pray that the nanny put my daughter to sleep early, that she's not watching me publicly prostitute myself for funding. "Which dick was your favorite?" the talk show host asks. "Do you think we might find a fourth dick temple?" The question crushes me. I start crying on camera. Because I know we will find another dick temple. I know we will find hundreds upon hundreds of dick temples buried just beneath the surface. The Martians buried those dicks for us to find. A hundred million years ago they looked into the abyss and saw their own mortality. They knew the end was coming and they met it with raging hard-on after raging hard-on. I return home from my interview exhausted. My daughter runs out to meet me in her astronaut pajamas with footy slippers. I hug her and carry her to bed. She asks for a story about when I was on Mars. I will hide the pain and the sadness, and tell her that we found something other than rooms and rooms full of dicks. Dick friezes and paintings and frescoes. Dick engravings. "What were they like, Mommy?" I search for words to explain to her why a civilization went to such lengths to preserve their dicks, and nothing else. "We're still learning about them," I say, holding back the tears. "But I think that they were just like us."
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Apr 3, 2022 16:45
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Schrödinger's Pants Shay’s thick forearms bulge as she tightens a prominent bolt on the strange contraption. It looks like an MRI machine built by H.R. Giger. Her face is smeared and shining with engine oil, and her hair is a tangled, greasy mess. I want to make love to her under the harsh fluorescents where no detail can be hidden. I want her to give me a back massage, a really rough one that leaves me aching for hours. But I know she won’t spend time with me unless I give it some attention—another invention that does god knows what. My girlfriend, super genius. “Almost finished,” she says. “What do you think?” I pretend to inspect the machine. Give it a really good once over. But really I am just getting close to her. Smelling the drying sweat on the back of her fuzzy neck. “I’m afraid I ain’t half as smart as you, gorgeous. What’s it do?” She gives the wrench another crank. “It phase shifts your genitals.” “Why the hell would anyone want that?” She tosses the wrench down and reaches around me to grab a screwdriver off the workbench. “Imagine if you didn’t have to be male or female anymore.” “Whoa. Are you saying this thing can turn me into a chick? Like, for the weekend?” “Sure. Or, you know, whatever. Transition to the quantum state and you’ll be every gender at once in a super position.” My mouth fills with saliva. A million deliciously obscene fantasies dance through my brain. “I want to put you in a super position so drat bad right now it hurts.” Before she can respond, I’m already wriggling out of my skinny jeans. She rolls her eyes at me as I drape myself over the machine’s conveyor belt. “It’s not a toy. It’s the end of gender politics. Don’t you see why that’s important? Imagine if you could go anywhere without being labeled. Without anyone assuming your gender just because they think you look a certain way.” “I got a bottle of red wine when I was out. You know how red wine makes me. I already drank half of it.” She sighs. “This is about more than sex, you know.” “Look, just pull that lever. Show me how brilliant you are. Then let me appreciate your brilliance by coming to the bedroom and letting me bang the snot out of you. Or, you know, vice versa.” I lift my eyebrows. “We could do a double slit experiment.” She gives me a stern look. “It’s not properly tested. Anything could happen.” “Any sex worth having is inherently unsafe.” I kick the lever with my foot. She gasps. A torrent of clacking sounds echo from the bowels of the machine like a million mechanical keyboards being pounded by a million nicotine-addicted monkeys. My naked lower half is whisked inside. A row of pink and blue LEDs wink on and off at random, and I start to feel really weird down below. “What’s happening?”I ask. “If things go right?” Her angry eyes add you idiot to the sentence. “Your gender will exist in every possible state at once.” Steam billows from a hundred orifices. The machine hisses. Then it makes a dinging sound like the bell at a hotel desk. “How do you feel?” She looks worried. “It’s done? I feel exactly the same.” She jots something quickly into her notepad. “This confirms that gender is merely a social construct.” “Sure is. Get me out of this thing and lets go bang.” When the machine spits me back out, I am no longer naked. Surprisingly, I’m dressed in a pair of white corduroy pants. The fit is very snug, but very nice. I roll off the belt and try walking back and forth. The pants make a pleasant swishing sound. “Neat,” I say, and start to unbutton them. “Wait! If you take those off, the quantum field will collapse!” “In English?” “The observer affect will apply to your genitals.” “Yes, please.” Shay punches me on the arm. “If I see your…whatever… you’ll revert back to a single physical gender.” “Hmm,” I say. “Ok. I think I get it. A person uses your machine and then—“ “And then they don’t ever have to worry about someone assuming their gender. Because they are all genders at once. In a quantum state.” “Right. Amazing.” I scratch my crotch. “How’s that different than normal pants?” She frowns. “What?” “Well, with normal pants you can’t really tell, right?" I can tell she’s getting flustered now. Beads of sweat stand out on her thick neck. She needs to shave again. It is so incredibly hot. “People might still assume your gender, true,” she says. “That’s just human nature, collapsing an analog reality to a binary fact. But this way, no matter what they say, they’ll always be wrong.” “So this is your way of winning an argument?” “The final solution.” “It’s brilliant, baby. You’ve really cracked it.” “You really think there’s a market?” I laugh. In my mind’s eye I see our stocks rising, our bank account growing tumescent. “A market? Every possible sexual experience will be just a lever pull away. Bored, super rich people will be the first adopters. For everyone else, we can charge per use. And the best part? It’ll be a surprise every time.” “That’s not why I made it.” “Doesn’t matter. It’s amazing." I grab her narrow hips and pull her close. “This is just a prototype,” she says. “The next iteration will be much smaller. Eventually, I think I can incorporate the entire device into a pair of ordinary cargo shorts.” “Why stop there? Someday you might be able to fit it into a pair of panties.” “Or briefs.” “Hell,” I say, leaning in to kiss her. “Why not both?”
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Apr 3, 2022 22:25
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These stories are TOO LONG! We need short stories. My dad ate expired beans and farted so much his butthole blew out.
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Apr 3, 2022 22:33
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I am reminded by my past, It says shush. So, this is a gun? Wait a tic?
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Apr 3, 2022 22:37
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A monster came out of the dark woods one night. It was me.
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Apr 3, 2022 22:52
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Thanks for coming by noble heroes! These goblins need to be dealt with because my wife won't stop having sex with them since they bit off my penis!
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Apr 3, 2022 23:12
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| # ? Apr 29, 2024 15:55 |
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god creates man. man destroys god. man creates dinosaurs. dinosaurs eat man. woman inherits the earth.
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Apr 4, 2022 21:52
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