My shorts featured here are: Franks Dog, Licked, The Hitchhiker, Shy And Wasted Life, Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse – Web Chat Transcript, I. V. S. and Unstoppable.
They are a mix of comedy, horror & drama. They aren’t perfect but I hope you like them. Some of the content of the following stories may not be suitable for very young people.
Thank you.
Franks Dog
Frank woke up one morning and in a flash of usual brilliance decided to buy a dog.
He has never owned a dog before but decides to himself that this is good idea, surely it can’t be hard to look after them and they cost barely anything to maintain.
So he got up, showered, dressed and raced out of the house, so excited he didn’t even eat any breakfast!
He arrived at the pet store and walked boldly inside, “Hello” he said “I wanna buy a dog”
“Certainly sir, they are all at the back, puppies of course. Have you owned a dog before?”
“Yes, yes of course I have. I love the little blighters; I’ll go and pick one shall
“Of course, go ahead sir.”
Frank strolled over and looked in the cages at the small bundles of fur. There was not a lot of choice, so Frank “ippy dippied” them and ended on a tiny
1 week later…
The door to the pet shop opened and in walked Frank. “Hello. I brought a dog from you last week and he does nothing. All he does is sit and cry. I can’t think what’s wrong?”
“Hmmmm” said the shopkeeper, “does he have any toys?”
“No sir he has no toys.”
“That’s what he wants – a toy. Take your pick sir I have a large selection.”
Frank picked out a selection of squeaky toys and furry teddy bears, paid the twenty pounds that it all came too and off he went on his way.
Another week later…
The door to the pet shop opened and in walked Frank. “Hello. I brought a dog from you 2 weeks ago and he does nothing. All he does is sit and cry. I’ve brought him loads of toys but it’s made no difference. I can’t think what’s wrong?”
“Hmmmm” said the shopkeeper, “does he have a bed?”
“No sir he has no bed.”
“That’s what he wants – a bed. I have one here sir.”
“I’ll take it.” Frank paid the twenty five pounds for the deluxe bed and off he went on his way.
Yet another week later…
The door to the pet shop opened and in walked Frank. “Hello. I brought a dog from you 3 weeks ago and he does nothing. All he does is sit and cry. I’ve brought him loads of toys, I’ve brought him a bed, but it’s made no difference. I can’t think what’s wrong?”
“Hmmmm” said the shopkeeper, “does he take vitamins?”
“No sir he takes no vitamins.”
“That’s what he needs – vitamins.
Frank paid the ten pounds for the specialist tablets and off he went on his way.
One day after that…
The door to the pet shop opened and in walked Frank. “Hello. I brought a dog from you just over 3 weeks ago and this morning when I got up he’s fucking dead.”
Frank opened a carrier bag he was carrying and produced the lifeless frail form of his pet dog and placed it on the counter. “I spent a fortune on toys, a bed, vitamin tablets, nothing seemed to work to perk him up.”
The shopkeeper leaned forward to have a closer look, “Hmmmmm” he said, “Did you feed it?”
Licked
Sue burst through her front door, her arms heaving with shopping bags, she stumbled through the hall way and dropped them all on to the side board. She was pooped. She turned around and headed back to close the front door properly. There was a loud yapping sound upstairs then the thud, thud, thud of paws bounding down towards her, it was Henry her Yorkshire terrier. Sue sat on the bottom stair and the dog dived all over her.
“Hello Henry have you missed me, aye, yes you have aint ya?” she spoke in a tone of voice that all dog owners use to speak to there dogs. The dog wagged his tail and licked her hands as she tried to stroke him.
“C’mon you little pest, leave me alone, I got better things to do than play with you.” Sue shooed the dog away and got up. Henry ran off into the living room and grabbed one of his many toys. Sue closed the door and disappeared into the kitchen to clean up.
*
That night the weather was awful. The storm clouds gathered turning the sky into an inky black colour. The rain fell in huge blobs and could be heard loudly splatting against the windows and the door. The flash of lightening was almost immediately followed by the horrendous clap of thunder. The storm was huge and it seemed to be directly overhead. Alone and fed up, curled up on the sofa, Sue flicked through the channels on the TV.
“No, no, no, shit, no” she sighed and hit the off button.
“C’mon Henry, lets hit the hay.”
She got up and Henry followed her, he was up the stairs in a shot. He ran into the bedroom and sat next to the bed, his favourite spot.
Sue walked in and began to get undressed. A flash of lightening lit up the room and startled her, she spotted herself in the mirror looking back at herself and gave herself a fright. For a second she thought someone was standing there watching her, “You fool” she whispered to herself as she pulled on her nightdress.
She got into bed and switched on her portable. BBC News 24 was on so she left it and got into bed. She lay with her back to the set, just listening a little as she began to doze. Her hand lolled outwards and Henry sat as always and gently licked the back of it until she slowly drifted off to sleep.
*
Woof! That was the sound that woke her with a start. She turned over and opened her eyes to see Henry sat on the bed next to her with one paw raised in a begging pose. She rubbed her eyes and looked at the alarm clock on the dresser. It was seven thirty. The TV was still on but the storms were gone.
“You wanna go out boy?”
Henry jumped down from the bed and wagged his tail madly.
As she got up she was drawn to the TV,
“What did he say”
She turned up the TV and caught the end of the news story…
“…police are still unsure as to a motive for the attacks that have left ten pet dogs, cats and rabbits in the Derrington area dead.”
“Thanks Colin…” said the news anchor man.
Sue flicked the TV off,
“That is awful, absolutely awful, who would do such a thing?”
Sue took Henry to the back door and let him out. That day she kept a close eye on him. The news had really scared her. There was a pet murderer in her city.
*
It was like deja-vu. The day had gone by quickly. Sue found herself curled up on the sofa again watching TV. She had watched the news reports all day and heard about it on the radio. She was petrified, someone was breaking into homes, killing pets and leaving. No one knew why. She wanted to phone her sister to ask her to come over and stay but felt that she might laugh at her story.
“Please come over sis, please, I’m scared of the Pet Ripper.”
It sounded ridiculous.
“C’mon Henry. You’re comin’ with me tonight. I’m gonna make sure we are both safe.”
Henry disappeared upstairs as usual followed by Sue. She got undressed, closed her bedroom door and slid across the door lock.
“There, safe and sound” she spoke briefly to herself.
She climbed into bed. She left the TV off, ‘Only the news on’” she thought, ‘and I’ve heard quiet enough.’
Her hand lolled as usual for Henry but he was not there. Tonight he sat by the door, occasionally sniffing and whimpering at the bottom of it.
“Shut up Henry please.” She shouted after an hour or so. He lay by the door quietly for a while and Sue dozed.
After a while she felt the tongue lapping at her hand and she smiled, “Good boy” she whispered, “good boy.”
*
Bleep, bleep. Bleep, bleep. Bleep, bleep.
“Uggh” Sue moaned as she reached out and pressed the snooze button, “Morning already” She sat up in bed and rubbed her eyes, she could feel the sleep loosen and fall from them as she did. She yawned, stretched and slowly got up.
She walked yawning from the bedroom. She had not even noticed that the door was wide open.
“Henry, c’mon boy. Time to go out.”
There was nothing.
“Henry” she called out again but again there was not a sound.
Sue felt uncomfortable, ‘Where is he?’ she thought.
She called out again and again and again.
She began to panic, where are you boy? She ran downstairs and into the living room, scanning everywhere, but there was no sign of her beloved pet. She ran into the kitchen, the dining room. Nothing, anywhere. Back upstairs she ran and into the spare room. Again Henry was no where to be seen.
“My God where are you Henry?” she screamed her words this time.
‘The bathroom’ she thought, ‘he always hides in there when he’s had an accident of course, stupid me, I’m going crazy. That news story has really freaked me out.’
Still feeling unnerved Sue flung open the bathroom door.
“Henry, you silly boy, come here you aint in trouble…aaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhh”
She screamed.
Henry was in there alright, he was laid in the bath in a pool of his own blood, his head barely attached to his frail, broken and bloody body.
Sue dropped to her knees and screamed even more. She looked up at the wall and what she saw sent her into hysterics, she lost control of her mind. The shock and fear was so overwhelming she passed out.
Written on the wall in Henrys blood was: “HUMANS CAN LICK TOO”
The Hitchhiker
The clock ticked away. Steve Jenkins sat his desk and sighed. Friday was here at last and he was getting ready to party. He scanned the texts messages on his phone from his mum, Bob his best mate and Fiona the girl he had met when half cut the week before in Shivers. Shivers was his favourite night-spot and he and Bob would end up in there again this week. The previous Friday he had been a complete gentleman, he had taken Fiona home and then went home and had a wank. Usually his motto was “Use 'em and lose em” but not with her, she was different. When they talked it was like they had known each other for years, the touch of her hand was electric and when there eyes met they locked and stared deep into each others souls. He liked her, she even laughed at his crappy jokes – no one ever laughed at his crappy jokes, except Fiona.
Five arrived so he grabbed his suitcase, left his cup-a-soups on the desk, shouted “te-rah” and was gone like a fart in the wind. The steps from the second floor never touched his feet. He was sat in his car in seconds. Off he set. It was a long drive from the centre of Bilston to Cleobury Mortimer where he lived but the pay made him make the journey every day. He lit up the dashboard, the engine roared and off he shot in his Celica. Hmmmm sweet.
The road always stretched ahead for miles, the more you wanna be home the longer the road and the slower the car, of course this wasn’t true but try it yourself please – it seems true. The need for home, the touch of flesh, that drink, that meal, the release of pressure. Goodbye everyday life and hello fun time.
Steve dreamed his life away, nothing was ever good enough, of course Fiona was, but nothing else. He dreamed of a life much better. An eternal Kama Sutra or Tantra. Maybe he would find it with Fi, yeah in his mind he called her that. In his mind they were more than close, they were married, with kids, sat in the OAP home laughing about there memories. Love does that to you – sometimes so does infatuation.
A flash in the corner of Steve’s eye made him slam the brake pedal hard. The car screeched hard and swerved a little, but nothing that he could not handle. There was silence. The cars engine hummed quietly in neutral. Steve gasped, ‘what the fuck…’ he spoke in his head. He stared in his mirrors, stooped by the roadside was a figure, it looked like a woman. He got out and slowly walked over to her.
All he could hear was a muffled sobbing noise. She leaned with her head in her hands.
“Are you OK?” he said.
She nodded her head negatively.
‘Do I leave the bitch?’ he thought.
“What are you waiting here for?” Steve looked up and down the deserted road as he spoke.
She cried louder, but didn’t answer.
“Where are you going, Maybe I can give you a lift, I’m heading towards Bridgnorth.” he lied slightly.
She looked up, she looked awful, “I’m going there.”
“C’mon, I’ll drop you off”
She got up and followed Steve to his car.
Inside he waited for a moment. She stood outside for a moment adjusting her regalia and messing with her hair, then she got in.
“Thank you.” she whispered, with her head tilted forward. Her embarrassment seemed obvious.
“You're welcome” said Steve, “Let’s just get you back home safely. You never know who is about. It’s not safe on the roadside for a girl like you.”
She never moved a muscle as he spoke to here. He looked at her for a moment, before he drove off, but then the thought of impressing her was gone. He had Fiona and as long as he had her he was complete. This was just an act of chivalry. His days of pulling skirt for ‘ball-emptying’ sake were gone, at least for now.
*
Fiona arrived at Shivers early, but now it was late.
‘Where are you’ she thought. She tried Steve’s phone but it rang out to the answer phone again, and again, and again.
‘You promised me you would be here. Typical man. Where the fuck are you?’
Her mind raced with thoughts that she did not want to see. She had loved last Friday like no other night out in her life. She thought he was a good guy.
‘You bastard,’ she though, ‘you had better be sick or dead to stand me up after the way you made me feel. You made me feel…’
She burst into tears and ran to the toilet. ‘I wanted it so much, I wanted it to work out so much…’
*
A figure alone… It stood by the road. It waited and waited so long. It hid in the shadows when coach loads went past. It stood out on show when the singles drove past. Mostly cars raced past. Sometimes they would swear, spit or throw objects that ranged from coke cans to used Johnnies. ‘Two in a car is harder work than one.” It often thought.
It took on the form of a female as the men were easily caught. It stood there cold and hungry, waiting, wanting.
The lights approached slowly, It sank into position, the lights only passed a few feet.
“Hello, Miss, can I help you at all?”
It never moved it just scratched itself with its razor sharp claws as long as knives under its cloak. Its teeth rapped together ready to feast.
“I can give you a lift if you want, I live near Quatt. D’you wanna ride?”
“I live in Bilston”, It replied, “But I have a sister in Quatt you can drop me there.”
It got into the car that night and fed – it fed like it did every night.
Fiona sat at home that night one week on, reading the local rag about Steve’s disappearance.
Shy and Wasted Life
“All I can remember is it wasn’t a dream, although I floated through the situation as if it were. God she was beautiful, I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone more beautiful in my entire life. I remember locking eyes with her across the hall at the school dance. I couldn’t have looked away if I had tried. Her glance lasted only a few seconds but as she turned her head away from me I remember watching her for the next hour or so. The way she smiled, laughed, danced and drunk.
Everything she did was like an angel. She brushed her hair away from her face and smiled some more. Of course all of the lads liked her and the more popular and confident ones were prancing around her like imbeciles. She was like the queen bee with her pick of the drones. She looked a little embarrassed sometimes at all of the attention. She obviously knew that she was attractive but this was too much for her.
I wanted to walk over to her and save her, her knight in shining armour, or in this case denim. Of course - I was nobody and would have made a fool of myself to even try doing that. Instead I chose to watch scanning her and the situation wishing that she could be mine.
As the night drew to an end people had paired off for the last few songs and the obligatory “cop off.” Some just held hands and talked, others kissed, a few managed a grope but nobody had sex, although loads of people claimed to (We were teenagers and full of shit.) I sat alone with my orange squash and my thoughts of her.
There were many girls sat in small groups without a partner who would have loved to have been up there dancing, to be wanted, maybe even to be like her. But I did not want her to see me dancing with anyone. I wanted her to know that they were not good enough for me.
She never noticed me sitting there alone and wouldn’t have noticed me dancing either but in my foolish mind I did not want to send out the wrong signals.
I liked her so much, but hadn’t the guts to do anything about it. I thought some of the other lads had little chance, but I would always have no chance. If I couldn’t speak to her, how could I ever hope for her to be mine?
The last song finished and on came the lights. The school hall was a mess. Streamers from party poppers were everywhere, so where cups, cans and flyers. Everyone started to make there way out. The kissers stopped kissing and the gropers stopped groping. I finished my squash and got up to leave. I looked around but couldn’t see her. Please God let me have one more look at her in that tiny skirt and tight top she wore I thought to myself.
I’d missed her, she was gone, and unfortunately for me she was gone from my life forever. I didn’t know it back then but I would never see her again. But even with the passing of time and the passing of my life I still can remember her beautiful face that night back in ‘54.
I heard last week that she’d died. An old school friend at our Fifty Years On reunion told me. Like me, she had never married and he heard that, when they found her, she was clasping her handbag to her. In it were a few old photographs, like a time capsule from her youth. Among those photos was my picture, taken from our year book.”
Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse – Web Chat Transcript
DEATH – has entered the chat room.
Death: Hi Everyone.
Famine: Hi Death.
Disease: Hi Death (coughs) if I infect you will you die…? lol
Death: No but you will soon enough.
Death: Where’s “War”?
Famine: He’s away at the moment.
Death: Where’s he gone?
Famine:
Death: Well I ain’t seen him and I’ve been run off my feet over there for months.
Disease: Busy, work has dried up for me lately. Bloody nurses have started washing the wards ain’t they – I spent ages painting them with MRSA. I can’t believe it. All my hard work down the drain. I might start having sex with cows again I’ve still got some CJD left on my penis. lol
Famine: Leave your penis out of this chat room please, I’m hungry and will consider cannibalism.
Death: You’ll still be hungry, his cock is tiny. His CJD trick never worked as planned back in the 80s, I was expecting tons of work after that stunt.
Disease: Leave my cock alone you guys. Just because it’s covered in scabs and flies!!! But hey I’m just living up to my name. lol.
Famine: Urrrgghhh that’s disgusting Disease. You need to be shot.
Death: Yes please!!! Shoot him someone!!!
Disease: You guys are terrible, I’m off. A boat load of eggs have just arrived in
Famine: Ooooh eggs I love them. Send some my way. I’m starving!!!!
Death: Bye Disease. Stay bad.
Famine: Bye Disease.
DISEASE – has left the chat room.
Death: So how long has it been since you last ate something Famine?
Famine: Oooooh about……twelve thousand years.
Death: Wow, that’s a long time, in fact it seems to me your time is over… I’m coming to get you.
Famine: You’ll have to catch me first, I might be hiding in
FAMINE – has left the chat room.
DEATH – has left the chat room.
‘Rhythm’, he wrote on the blank page.
He sat there and thought hard about his work, he took his writing seriously but had no idea what this word meant or what he was going to follow it with. Maybe this was the title, or maybe not. He knew nothing about this work he was embarking on, he felt ill, but struggled and continued.
He wrote ‘I’ then ‘My’ then spent a moment contemplating if ‘My’ didn’t count. Why did he do this? "I" made him wince.
He looked at his page….
‘Rhythm I My’
It meant nothing. He wondered if the days drinking was taking its toll, it was.
But why write such incomprehensible drivel? He didn’t know why.
‘Why’ he added to his list then looked again at it thinking about his own insanity.
“Am I going mad?” he thought.
‘Crypt’ entered his head.
“What the fuck is the point of that word?” he knew know he was in trouble. Being a writer was always hard for him but tonight was worse than normal. “I wish I still unblocked drains for a living but I don’t. I gave it up when I wrote a book that made me a fortune…. So why can’t I write now?”
His misery was intense. But imagine it. Your living ripped away. And why….because you no longer make sense. He needed to make his writing make sense… “c’mon please, let me write something that works…..” he thought “of course, I need a surrounding…. A country… where does my story take place….?”
BANG…. The venue appeared in his head “Cwmystwyth, of course.”
He looked at his page, “Rhythm I My Why Crypt… Cwmystwyth”
It did not look like a best seller. So he leaned back in his chair and sighed…
“Hymn… I need to pray” he thought so he wrote it down too… but Hymn was soon gone from his mind…
“I know I’ll watch a DVD, yeah a DVD, relaxing, I will forget about writing for a while and watch a good movie….”
He liked UK Authors and needed a submission. It was late on Sunday night (in fact it was early Monday morning) and he wanted something for people to comment on. He looked down at the page before him…
“Rhythm I My Why Crypt Cwmystwyth Hymn DVD”
When he read it he stopped trying to write – he knew what his problem was, he had Irritable Vowel Syndrome…
Unstoppable
I watched the countdown on my watch tick down slowly to zero. I listened carefully and heard nothing. I got up from my cheap hotel room bed and walked over to the window. In the distance a plume of smoke began to rise up from the horizon about a mile away. It’s amazing that I didn’t hear it. The twenty story building that had been there was partially reduced to rubble on the far, east side. This was gonna scare the shit out of
The crazy thing is that it was so easy, I got away with planning and executing this whole plan and no one stopped me. After all the fear, the threats, the policing, the talk of hi tech systems and security protecting us from the hidden evil, I did it.
This was not the first time I had taken a life though, you understand. Oh no. I had to kill to execute my plan. Mohammed had worked with me for many years, I never liked him, but he was harmless enough. He was a bit of a loner and had no family that he talked about anyway. He seemed perfect to take the rap.
Yesterday I managed to convince him to hire a white van for me, I told him I was helping a mate move house but hadn’t time to go fetch it. In his keenness to have my friendship he agreed. While he was away, I prepared the bomb making notes, the Koran and the photograph of Osama bin Laden for the glove box.
When he did return I thanked him and invited him out for a drink after work. He seemed to be so happy that someone at work was finally treating him like part of the cor