(Author’s note: Doing something dangerous. Took off my splint and am writing this properly. Putting splint back on after it’s done, but so far…no problems. Anyhow, here’s today’s fictioneers…just for all y’all.)
© The Court Jester of Friday Fictioneers, Russell Gayer
by Miles H. Rost
Running from the frozen lake, Brian Gerlach saw the open shed and the toilet.
“Brian, come on! We’ve only got another hour before our moms call us for dinner.”
“But I really gotta go!”
“Fine, but you’re on your own!”
He didn’t need their help. He’d use the toilet and get back to skating. It was winter after all.
He sat down on the snow-colored commode and did his business. He tried to stand up, but his behind wouldn’t budge.
Worse yet, the water around his skates had since frozen up.
He cried for help, worried that it wouldn’t come.
(Author’s Note: Things are getting busy at work. It’s starting to go very strange, so I am going to do what I can to get ahead of things. However, I can’t say much more than that. Here we go, it’s Fictioneers day!)
© Ted Strutz
Flowers Never Bend With The Rainfall
by Miles H. Rost
“Charlie, what the heck are you doing?”
“I’m putting a bunch of flowers out to line my yard. I want to make sure that people know I’m a man of culture.”
“But look at what those flowers are in!”
“What’s the problem, Virgil? They’re commodes! I’m doing my part to recycle!”
“Yeah, but it looks so cheap. What will people think when they drive by?”
“They’ll think that I’m resourceful and reusing the things that people throw away!”
“No, people will think your flowers are representative of you. Full of crap.”
“You mean like the stuff that fell down the side of your hill?”
“…you shut up.”