Friday, February 10, 2017

Lunch Money

Hello All:
Today’s new story has an important lesson to be learned: Don’t leave money lying about at home.
Have a great weekend!
Lunch Money
Jonny's parents were prepared to make a purchase on a used car later on Tuesday morning. See, Mother had gotten into a car accident and she needed a car to drive to work. Both Mother and Father worked; and with the loss of one car it was becoming a bit of a hassle for both husband and wife to drive to work, together, each day. The accident took place a couple of weeks ago. They were in no position to purchase a car right away while waiting for the insurance companies to settle the claim.
Jonny's parents aren't exactly wealth. They live paycheck to paycheck and needed put aside some money for a couple of weeks for the new car. Again, they weren't in the best condition as far as finances were concerned. Their credit history was shot which meant they certainly couldn't qualify for a car loan. They would just have to purchase a used car the old fashioned way; finding a used vehicle in the classified ads, scheduling an appointment with the owner to view and possibly test—drive, then pay cash in full when finally deciding.
And so, on a Tuesday morning, there lay a stack of folded bills on the kitchen counter which totaled two thousand dollars; some hundreds, twenties, tens a five and some ones—remember, they really had to dig for that two thousand dollars. It lay on the kitchen counter, folded up; waiting to be handed over to the owner of the vehicle they were about to purchase.
Rather than have the hundred showing on the outside of the folded bills, the money was folded as such so that the one dollar bill showed on the outside. It was all weighted down underneath a large Morton Salt container. As mentioned before, Jonny's parents had planned on driving to the owner's house later that afternoon to give him the money for the title of the car, the keys, and ultimate possession. Finally, Mother would have her car and both husband and wife could get to work independently.
Jonny entered the kitchen that Tuesday morning. Tuesday's were always bland and boring for him. He rummaged through the kitchen for something for breakfast and decided on Quaker Dinosaur Egg Instant Oatmeal. While pouring the water into the bowl, Jonny looked over and saw the stack of money folded up and weighted down by the Morton Salt container. He assumed that this was his lunch money for the day. Mother hadn't made lunch or given him money the previous night. What else could it be? So Jonny simply picked up the stack of money and put it in his wallet. Jonny never bothered to look how much money it was. He was short on time and simply stuffed the stack in his wallet. He ate breakfast and head off to the bus stop.
Around the time when Jonny sat in the seat of the bus he began to feel that his wallet was considerably fatter than normal. It put pressure near the area of his rear pocket while sitting. "Man... My wallet is fat today." complained Jonny out loud.
Jonny's best friend, Tony, sat next to him. "What, do you have a lot of money or something?"
"My mom put my lunch money on the counter for me, and I just put it in my wallet. Let's see how much she gave me." Jonny pulled out his wallet, opened it up, and pulled out the bills. Immediately both boys exclaimed, "Whoa...!"
"How much money is this?" continued Jonny.
Some of the kids nearby rushed over to Jonny's seat to see what was happening. There were so many hundred dollar bills in there. The kids had never seen so much money before.
"Awe! This is great!" exclaimed Jonny.
"Can I have some?" asked one of the nearby kids.
"No way!" answered Jonny. "But I tell you, this is going to be a great lunch today."
"I'm definitely sitting with you." declared Tony.
"What do you say we just totally buy up all the pizza that they have their and have a pizza party for lunch?" suggested Jonny.
"Yeah, let's do that!" agreed Tony.
"Can I sit at your table?" asked one of the nearby kids.
"Sure, why not?" answered Jonny.
By the end of the bus ride, all the kids were excited about the pizza party that would take place during lunch; all the cakes and goodies—a huge feast for Tuesday. And this would just be the beginning. Plans would soon be made to seriously party with the unbelievable amount of money that Jonny had in his possession. All the while, Jonny never once questioned why Mother had given him so much. He never considered that perhaps it was an error and that he best return it to Mother and Father as soon as possible.
Back at home, Mother and Father woke up and entered the kitchen for morning coffee.
"What, Jon?"
"Where is our money?"
Susan gasped, "Oh no! Oh, I bet Jonny thought that was his lunch money and took it."
"You've got to be kidding me!" exclaimed Jon. "So our kid is going to walk around school all day with two thousand dollars in his wallet?"
"I'm so sorry Jon!" apologized Susan. Do you want me to stop at the school really quick to get it back from him?"
"Well what are we going to do?" snapped Jon. "Are we going to walk into the school and try to tell the principal that we accidentally gave our kid a couple thousand dollars and need it back? You better hope he doesn't lose that money today. That's the money for your car."
Needless to say, it was a very tense car ride to work that morning. They fought and argued the entire ride to work. At one point, Susan was so close to calling the school and asking to speak to her son. She wanted to beg him not to lose the money. But she waited, and simply trusted that he would bring the money home upon realizing a mistake had been made.
But by third hour gym class, rumor had spread throughout the school that Jonny had a couple thousand dollars on him. And Jonny wasn't the biggest kid, either. He couldn't defend himself so easily. The school thugs decided that they would collect their much deserved money. There was a big group of them in gym class who walked up to Jonny in the locker room as he changed into his gym uniform.
"Hey Jonny?" called out the leader of the thugs. "Where's your money?"
"What?" nervously answered Jonny.
"Your lunch money." reminded the leader of the thugs.
"We're here to beat you up for your lunch money." said one of the other thugs.
"I'm not going to give you that." argued Jonny.
With that, the leader of the thugs grabbed Jonny by the shirt and pushed him into the locker. "I'm not going to say it again. Where's your lunch money? Give it to me, or you'll be sorry!"
But it was no use continuing to argue. By then one of the thugs went into Jonny's locker and removed the wallet from his pants pocket.
"Well, well, well; what do we have here?" exclaimed the thug.
"Holy crap!" exclaimed another.
The leader slapped Jonny in the head before asking, "Now was that so difficult?" He released Jonny and grabbed the money to count it. "There must be a couple thousand dollars in here. What do you say we ditch school for today and live it up?"
The thugs left the school for the day and partied it up with two thousand dollars in cash that had been stolen from Jonny. And as you know, the money was taken by mistake. Mother and Father had struggled for a couple of weeks to save the money and use it for purchasing Mother’s new car.
So let that be a lesson to you: Don't leave money sitting on the kitchen counter at home.
The End!

Wednesday, February 8, 2017

Can’t You See I’ve Had Enough?

Hello All:
It’s the middle of the week, and great time to release a new short story. This one is a bit disturbing. I’m not sure how I dreamed this one up.
Can’t You See I’ve Had Enough?
Steve wasn't sure how he had gotten there. All he remembered was going to bed the previous night and waking up sometime later, chained to a wall in a place that appeared to be a dark dungeon. There were men who surrounded him who he never knew before; had no idea who they were or what their purpose was. They didn’t look to be foreigners. They didn't seem to be military type. They just looked like average, ordinary men with an evil agenda.
From the moment Steve woke up, he had been repeatedly beaten. Anything you could think of, it was done to poor Steve. He was punched in the face, the stomach, and the ribs; smacked across the face. The wind had been knocked out of him numerous times. And surely he had several broken ribs. Steve was coughing up blood. And while we are on the subject of blood, his entire body was just a beaten, bloody mess. There wasn't an area on his body that wasn't blackened or blue, didn't have some sort of cut or abrasion.
Both of Steve's eyes were blackened. Blood ran down his nose and onto his torn shirt which was saturated with blood. Then there were his broken limbs. At one point, the people doing the beatings thought it would be a good idea to take a lead pipe to Steve's arms and legs. This busted bone--surely compound fractures in certain places. Oh, and his skull felt like it had been cracked open as well--at least Steve imagined this.
Teeth had been punched out of his mouth, and he remembered swallowing a few of his teeth at some point. Then again, Steve didn't remember much of anything. And he had no idea how long the onslaught of senseless, repeated beatings lasted. All along, no one explained to him why he was beaten or what he had done to deserve all of this. Anytime poor Steve tried to speak up, someone would smack him across the face with, "Shut up!"
By now, Steve was very close to death and struggled maintaining consciousness. He choked and gagged on blood.  And somehow he had a chance to cry out one last plea that was more of a lifeless whisper, "please...can't you see I've had enough...?"
The several men standing around paused for a moment. One of them was apparently the leader or boss of the group. He looked at the others and said, "Alright.... I think we’ve all had enough for today. But I want to do just one more good round--all of us. Punch him in the face and kick him in the stomach a few times; anything you can think of. Think of it as the grand finale for the evening before lights out. Then we will resume in the morning.
Steve could hardly believe what he was hearing. How long had they been beating him and why? They were beating Steve so much that they had gotten tired themselves. And the boss ordered that one more round should be done before retiring for the evening??? And there was more for tomorrow???
Steve remembered receiving one good strike to the head which resulted in a flash of light. And that's the last thing he remembered.

The End!

Friday, February 3, 2017


Hello All:
Friday is here and the weekend is upon us. Friday is a perfect day to release one of those strange works of flash fiction. I thought of this story while sitting at a red light and briefly dozing off.
Have a great weekend!
Sally woke up on an early Thursday morning, about the time before the sun started to peak over the horizon. This was her life. She had to wake up extra early so that she could start her job at 7:00. Sally was a nurse at the hospital. And actually she needed to be to the hospital before he shift began, usually around 6:30 to receive the updates from the previous evening’s staff.
And so Sally staggered out of bed. How nice it would have been to hit the snooze button and doze off some more. She couldn't wait until her day off so she could sleep in a little—some much needed rebellion against that annoying alarm clock.
Not fully awake, Sally went into the bathroom to do some quick morning potty business. And then she turned on the shower to let the water warm up while removing her nightshirt before getting in. Sally almost didn't see it. She might have actually washed it off in the shower had she not briefly glanced out of the corner of her eye at the mirror. Initially it was believed to be a mark or bruise on her breast. But then Sally turned and faced the mirror for a better look, and was shocked at she saw. Could it really be? Was Sally seeing things? She came closer to the mirror to study her naked breasts. At some point during the night the word, “TITS!” was written with black magic marker across both breasts.
"Oh my gosh!" exclaimed Sally. "How the heck did this happen?" Sally lives alone in an apartment, and currently doesn’t have a boyfriend. She broke up with Steve a couple of months ago; so blaming it on someone who lived with her—slept with her—was not an option.
Maybe when Sally went to the Laundromat earlier that week a stranger had removed her bra from the dryer when she wasn’t looking, and wrote with marker the word, “TITS!”, so that the ultimate result was for it to be temporarily tattooed to Sally's breasts while wearing it. If this were the case, the sweat from throughout the day would have worn through and caused the word in marker to bleed onto her breasts. It would have been likened to those tattoos that one gets out of a bubblegum machine—you lick the paper, and put it on the area where you want to tattoo to be; rub it in for a few seconds and peel back. The end result is a temporary tattoo until washing it off.
Now alarmed and concerned, Sally turned the shower water off and dashed into the bedroom where yesterday's clothes lay on a heap on the floor. She picked up her bra and examined the inside cup. But there was no evidence of marker ever being there. The word, "TITS!", was not written anywhere. "This is very strange..." remarked Sally out loud in a spooked voice. "Did someone break into the apartment, overnight, and do this while I slept?"
Sally scurried about her apartment suite, checking doors and windows. It was still winter so there was no need in opening any windows or sliding glass door to the balcony. And just as made sure before going to bed, everything remained locked and secured. There was no evidence of anyone breaking and entering overnight.
Who could have possibly done this to Sally, and why?


Tuesday, January 24, 2017

At the Waterfall

Hello All:
As I'm finding out, VR headsets are an excellent bedtime tool to help nod off into happy dream world. Not that I need any help with this; I usually fall asleep once my head hits the pillow. But recently I've managed to stay awake for an extra fiver or ten minutes while laying in the dark with my VR headset strapped to my head. I watch cool things ranging from kaleidoscopes to videos taken from weather balloon cameras as they drift off into the atmosphere.
Today's new story is a peculiar account of someone's experience at a waterfall.

At the Waterfall
I woke up early one beautiful, Saturday morning in spring. As I later checked, the temperature was 70 degrees with a gentle breeze occasionally stirring up. Immediately I noticed a sense of quiet and calmness in the air that suggested something magical calling out to me. It was like a message coming from another place, another realm. So I left the house on that beautiful morning in spring and drove to a nearby nature preserve that was complete with prairie, dense forest, and flowing streams. Hiking some distance from the parking lot, I made it into the forest where I continued to sense something mystical calling out to me. It was at this point where the felling grew stronger.
There is a place in this forest where a small waterfall--about waist-high--is located some halfway down a flowing stream. To reach this waterfall it is necessary to trek along the bank of the stream. While doing this, one can hear the gentle waterfall some ways in the distance. It grows louder and louder as one continues to approach. The location of the waterfall was important on this particular morning; for you see, it's shrouded by the dense trees of the surrounding forest which makes it a very isolated and remote area of the preserve. And as stated before, this is a good thing because on this particular morning I discovered an unbelievable sight.
Right in front of the waterfall was a naked woman standing next to a tree. She appeared to be observing the peaceful waterfall in all her naked glory. All I could do in that moment was stop dead in my tracks to observe in awe, soon admiring her exciting, naked body. She had long golden blonde hair that draped down her bare back and shoulders. To top (or bottom!) it off; she had a beautiful, round, robust ass.
She must have sensed that I was there, for at some point she turned around just enough to see me and then smiled. It was almost as-if she had been waiting for me all along. I later speculated that it wasn't me in particular that she was waiting for; maybe simply someone to wander through the forest that morning and discover her and and her beautiful, naked body. From what I could see of her face, she was a very pretty woman. Why in the world would someone like her desire to come out to the forest with the intention of a stranger discovering her?
Soon she turned around to resume facing waterfall, and didn't seem the least bit concerned that I was there. In fact I felt a sense that I was supposed to be there, perhaps even come closer... maybe even touch her. And so this is what I did. I carefully approached while taking extra caution not to alarm or make her uncomfortable. Such a situation, after all, was a delicate one and could go either way. It wasn't long before I was close enough to reach my hand out and touch her. She sensed my presence and turned her head a bit and smiled, this time a bit nervously. It could have been a dangerous situation for her had the wrong man discovered her. Fortunately, it was the right stranger who discovered her beautiful, naked body that morning to eventually touch her.
I placed my hands on her bare shoulders and began to lovingly caress her beautiful silky skin. My fingers gently combed through her long, golden blonde hair. Then I lowered my hands along the sides of her body, eventually to the sides of her butt cheeks. By now my heart was racing with excitement. This was the sort of ass the every man dreams of touching; the perfect ass so round and robust, yet soft and silky the touch. I caressed my hands on both butt cheeks and proceeded to squeeze and play with her ass. She really liked this and began taking deep breaths in and out, apparently from her own surge of excitement. It was then I could see that with her hands she began to fondle and play with her own breasts.
Was this an invitation to do more? With my left hand I reached around her waist and gently grazed my fingers up her silky abdomen until reaching her left, supple breast. I squeezed, fondled, and played; delicately pinched her nipple while admiring how easily it became aroused and erect to the touch. And of course while doing this I continued to fondle and play with her ass.
Having both her ass and breasts played with by a stranger left her hands free to explore other places. I could see that she reached down to touch her pussy. Surely she was beginning to masturbate.
I, too, was in need of taking the encounter to a more pleasurable level. My cock was certainly erect and needed to get out for sensation. But I certainly wasn't going to have sex with this woman! There were plenty of things I was going to do with that luscious, robust ass.
Making love to a woman's ass is a beautiful thing for both the man and the woman. Not to be confused with nasty anal sex, the act involves simply rubbing one's hard cock against the center of the woman's ass. Many have done this, and agree that it is an exciting form of sex. What's more it involves no penetration, and can be considered unadulterous along with little risk for STD. So I unzipped my pants as she played with her pussy.
But she heard the sound of unzipping and clearly was not comfortable with this. She must have assumed that I was going to try to have penetrating sex with her. And that's probably why she started to pull away. But I grabbed and pulled her long, golden blonde hair; handling her as-if she were an in animal to be controlled and guided at will.
The scene could have turned ugly had I not done things speedily. Within a second of pulling her hair and treating her like an animal, I pressed my hard cock against the center of her ass. Then I proceeded to slide up and down against her silky butt. By then she realized what my intention was, and began to relax, even continued to play with her pussy.
And so I made aggressive, frantic love to her ass; and while doing so, I continued to pull her hair. She loved everybody every bit of it, of course, because many women enjoy being treated this way. That's why she came out here in the first place, hoping to meet a stranger who would discover her naked out in nature.
In the few minutes that followed I don't remember much of reality. In my perception she transformed into some sort of magical horse that I rode for many miles through the countryside. She was my horse and I was her master. She obeyed every direction and order that I gave her as she galloped through the forest, across streams, and onwards to the mountains. At some point I finally exploded and released every bit of pleasure on her ass. And she cummed as well. It was a beautiful Saturday morning for two strangers.
Ever since the incident, I have returned to the waterfall nearly every Saturday morning. But I never saw her again. Sometimes I wonder if it really happened. And I never told anyone. They wouldn't believe me, anyway.
The End!

Saturday, January 21, 2017

A Message to Fellow Republican Voters Celebrating our New Age in America

Hello All:
Big day, yesterday; our 45th president of the United States, Donald Trump, was sworn in. Despite what the news and media might want the world to believe, millions of people are celebrating. I'm sure you are one of them.
I want to share with you a comment that I made to a friend on Facebook who voiced their opinion on the ridiculous protesting and boycotting taking place in America because Trump has assumed the role as president. I hope it shares as encouraging words to my fellow Republican voters.
Have a great weekend! And celebrate our victory here in America
A Message to Fellow Republican Voters Celebrating our New Age in America
(the below is a reply given to someone on Facebook)
"I want to commend you for taking a bold step and voicing what 60-some million Republican voters right now are thinking. Many of us—including myself—are fearful of voicing what you have said because of receiving backlash from liberal family and friends. But I agree with you 100%: For some reason, all the Liberals seem to think that Trump is a stupid idiot who will destroy our country. They overlook the fact that he is a billionaire-businessman. To those who say that Trump is stupid, I would ask if any of them have reached the state of being a billionaire. Sure, some people may have an idea what it takes to do this; but very few people have experienced the success that Trump has throughout his life. This is testament to the fact that he is not a stupid person. Aside from that, Trump was intelligent enough to win the 2016 election, and actually defeat Hillary Clinton, going against all odds. I will not accept the argument that Trump is stupid and that he will crash our country. He is a very intelligent, highly successful businessman who will take our country on the course that it needs to go.
Three things I offer you and Republican voters who are celebrating the new age of our country at this moment:
First, never mind all the whining crying and commotion from the Democrats and their supporters. Just celebrate! This is our time! 60-some million people throughout America are celebrating right now. The news and media might want to make it seem like a tragedy has taken place, but the truth is many people are happy. I haven't even watched the news throughout the inauguration. I receive updates from Trump, himself, on twitter. He's shared plenty of video footage, photos and statements. Last night I watched his inaugural speech over a glass of wine. It feels good to have president finally say what millions of Americans have wanted to hear for so long.
And never mind arguing with liberals. You will never understand the mind of a liberal. It's like they're their own country. It's like they hate America! It's like they want to redo America. Occasionally they will get a president voted in who promises to abolish laws and amendments that are too much of an inconvenience for those with radical lifestyles. Then they go up before the United Nations, like Obama did, and declare that Americans need to waive some of their rights and freedoms so the United States is better aligned with the other countries of the world. And this is the sort of person we elected to uphold and protect the US Constitution???
Second: As for all the noise and commotion right now, I'm sure much of it is funded the Democratic Party. But money will soon be dried up. It already has. The Clinton Foundation has closed its doors, forever. So ironic; since Hillary lost the election, the foundation is no longer receiving donations for charity, human rights—those sorts of things. It begs the question where the money was actually coming from and how it was being used. Use your imagination... I predict that in upcoming weeks things will get really quiet with the Democratic Party because they will no longer have a source of inexhaustible money from Arab countries they had high hopes of Hillary winning the election. (Imagine the world that was in store for us had she won the election!) And I would bet these news networks like NBC and the Clinton News Network (CNN) will either go belly-up or be on the same level as the National Enquirer in the upcoming months.

Finally: (and this is very important) you need to pray for Trump. You need to pray for his success, his safety, and his health. And you need to pray that our new age of America will continue on beyond Trumps presidency. I truly believe that we will never fully understand how close we were to losing our country. America could very well have been on course to become nothing more than a borderless international check point where you come in and do your business. I've been praying for Trump since the middle of last year along with millions and millions of other people throughout America and our world. Our prayers have been answered, and we now have a leader who will put our interests first. But this is only the beginning. We need to continue to pray each day for the continued success and protection of our president."

Friday, January 20, 2017

Mistaken Identity

Hello All:
It's Friday which means that at some point this afternoon you will enter the door of your house and sigh a relief that the weekend is finally here. Wouldn't it be horrible if a situation like today's new story awaited you?
Have a great weekend!

Mistaken Identity

It was a Friday afternoon as George walked in to his house after a long day—and a long week—of work. His wife, Beth, sat on the sofa and watched TV while waiting for him. "Hi honey!" she greeted upon seeing George. "How was your day?"
"Oh it wasn't bad." answered George. "Not bad for Friday."
Just then, their four-year-old daughter, Angela rushed in the room. "Daddy!" she exclaimed. "You're home!" She ran up to Father and was immediately scooped up to be hugged.
"That's right; I'm home. So were you good today?"
"Yeah..." answered Angela
"Well I don't know..." teased Father "Maybe I should ask Mommy." George looked over to his wife, Beth, “What do you say Mommy? Was Angela good today?"
"Oh, yes. She was very good today."
"Well then I will let you pick where we go for dinner tonight." promised George to his daughter. "Where would you like to go?"
"McDonald's! excitedly answered Angela.
Just then, the telephone rang. With Angela still in his arms, George walked over to the phone. "This is probably one of those annoying telemarketers." he griped before picking up the receiver. "Hello?"
A cold voice on the other end simply asked, "So what's up?"
"Excuse me?” answered George.
"Never mind that!" the cold voice warned. "What's going on? And where are you supposed to be?"
"Who is this?” challenged George.
"You know damned well who I am!" snapped the caller. "If you want to play that game, then this is your parole officer."
"Parole officer?" repeated George with a forced giggle. "I'm afraid you have the wrong number."
"No, I’m pretty sure I’ve got the right person. We are getting a signal located near 1634 Virginia Avenue. And this system is very accurate. And like I said, I'm pretty sure it's you I'm talking to.”
"Look!" began George. "There is clearly a mistake here, and it sounds like you are looking for someone on house arrest and that he supposed to be home. It sounds like his whereabouts have been traced near my home. I can reassure you that I am not your criminal. But now that I think of about it, I hope that he is not hiding in my house, somewhere."
The caller interrupted, "Well is this George Ludwig?"
George was taken aback and hesitated. "That is my name.”
"How ironic!" answered the caller in a sarcastic tone. "Tell you what: don't go anywhere. You stay right where you are, and I will have the police there very shortly to come get you."
George had no idea what to think. A parole officer was clearly looking for a convict who apparently violated the terms of his house arrest and was now being traced near George's home. Maybe he cut the bracelet and dumped it nearby. Or worse, maybe this convict was physically hiding in George's house. But so ironic; this convict had the same name as George. Whatever the explanation, it was probably best for the police to come and investigate. "Sure..." cautiously agreed George. "Let the police come here and get things clarified. I don't know why your convict is being traced to my address. Have them come quickly to investigate and make sure he is not hiding in my home somewhere."
"I'll do that!" reassured the caller in a nearly threatening tone. He obviously did not believe George's story. "And don't go anywhere!" he ordered before hanging up.
"What was that about?" asked Beth.
George explained as best as he understood. Apparently there was some confusion, thanks to a convict on house arrest who had violated the terms of his arrest. He was now being traced to their home. And in a bizarre twist of coincidence, George had the same name as the convict. "But don't worry." reassured George. "As soon as the police get here, they will see that I am not this person. Then they will make sure that our house is safe and that he is not hiding here. Maybe this person cut his bracelet and left it in the front lawn near the bushes.
"Are you going to jail, Daddy?" asked little Angela.
"No, Sweetie." answered George. "The police are just coming here to make sure we are okay."
Five minutes later there was a startling rap at the door. "Police! Open up!”
George rushed over and opened the door. What faced him were four police officers with guns drawn and pointed at George.
"Get on the ground!" one of them ordered. "On the ground!"
Shocked and confused George did as ordered. The officers stormed into the house and immediately placed handcuffs over George who laid face first on the floor.
From the family room, little Angela started to cry and rushed over to Mommy for comfort and safety.
"What's going on?" nervously asked Beth.
"Ma'am, just sit tight." answered one of the officers.
Little Angela continued to cry while hugging her mother. What no one understood in that moment was that George had an unknown distant cousin with the same name who was on house arrest to finish a prison sentence for auto theft. He violated the terms of his house arrest and was now at 1634 Virginia Avenue. And as luck would have it, both men strongly resembled one another in appearance. Of course the police believed that the George in handcuffs was the wanted man.
Angela watched in horror as the police dragged her Daddy out the door to the police car. He was on his way to jail.

The End!

Wednesday, January 18, 2017

Read the Fine Print!

Hello All:
Over the Christmas holiday I received two bottles of what I would describe as jumbo bottles of wine. You’ve probably seen them on display at one time or another at an Italian restaurant. I'm not sure what their actual size was, but I would estimate them to be approximately a gallon each.
And so from the night of Christmas until the end of this weekend, I finished off both bottles of wine—resting some days in between. As I finished the final drop of wine from the second bottle on Sunday evening, I set my glass down and declared, “Both bottles have officially been finished off.”
How do I feel about this accomplishment?
I'm quite proud, actually. And it was nice to have nearly a nearly inexhaustible supply of wine throughout the holiday. I never had to worry about running out. But I am sad now that my holiday wine is gone. That's okay, this weekend I will be sure to run to the store and pick up more for myself.
Today's brand new short story is a reminder to always read the fine print before entering a deal with a stranger.
Read the Fine Print!
Bonnie and Lori have been best friends for years. They met shortly after college at their new jobs, and have been very close ever since. It isn't uncommon for them to meet after work on a Friday night at some lounge or restaurant for a few drinks and maybe dinner. This is what they did on a recent Friday night. They met at the upscale Tollway Nightclub located a few blocks away from where they work.
Usually Bonnie enjoys a few shots of liquor before dinner, followed by a few more glasses of wine after her meal. Tonight she enjoyed a red zinfandel—her third glass—after finishing off a large appetizer platter with her best, Lori. By now, she was extremely buzzed and nearly drunk. It was then that seemingly out of nowhere a young man approached the table where Bonnie and Lori enjoyed there after dinner drinks.
Bonnie was certainly uninhibited at that moment from all the alcohol that she had consumed. And she initially believed that the young man had come over to hit on her. So she was sure to invitingly smile at him with a hint of seduction.
But what was this?
It almost seemed like the young man was nothing more than a salesperson that was there to sell something. “Excuse me, ma'am…” begin the young man. “I was wondering if you would be interested in earning $100 this evening by participating in an experiment.”
“An experiment???” nearly shouted half-drunken Bonnie with excitement. It was followed by a giggle. “What sort of experiment do you have in mind with me?”
The young man remained professional while pointing out, “Well, by the looks of you I can see that you have had plenty to drink.”
Bonnie’s friend, Lori, interrupted by laughing out loud. “Oh yes, she has had plenty to drink!”
“Well that's good.” calmly answered the young man. “She would be perfect for the experiment.”
“And what's the experiment?” quickly asked Bonnie with a beaming smile.
“Well we would like to measure the chemical reaction of alcohol against chemicals processed in your body. It's a very easy process, and you won't have to worry about a thing. And let me remind you that you will be earning $100 for participating. Plus it only takes about 15 minutes. You have nothing to lose. What do you say; are you in?”
Bonnie shrugged her shoulders, “Sure, why not?”
“Very good!” exclaimed the young man. “Your friend can wait here while we go to the room where the experiment is set up.”
It was then that Bonnie felt a bit uneasy with the arrangement. She realized that in a nearly drunken state she was leaving her friend to go to a private and isolated place with the stranger. How safe would that be? But the young man wasn't bad looking at all. If he did try to take advantage of Bonnie, she would surely enjoy it. And it had been a long time since Bonnie got lucky—about six weeks since her last time.
And so Bonnie stepped away from the table and left her friend, Lori, alone. She followed the young man to the elevator and rode it down to the basement where she continued to follow him through a hallway, and into what appeared to be a workshop with small table at the center. “Please take a seat.” invited the young man. “By the way, my name is Bob.” He stuck out his hand in a motion to shake.
Bonnie accepted Bob’s handshake. “Nice to meet, Bob. I am Bonnie.”
Both sat down at the table. The young man, Bob, opened notebook and removed a sheet of paper. It was actually an agreement for Bonnie to sign so she could participate in the experiment. “This just spells out the details of how our experiment we will measure the chemical reactions in your body as you process alcohol.” explained Bob. “Like said before, in exchange you will receive $100 for participating.”
Bonnie was actually feeling quite drunk at that moment. She laughed hysterically before commenting; “Now I need to sign a contract with you?” Throwing all caution to the wind, she merely shrugged her shoulders; grabbed the pen located on the table, and boldly signed her name. It was then that a door opened from the opposite side of the room. In walked an older man who wore a lab coat with gloves. He pushed in front of him a cart with a glass tank seated on top. The older man looked to be like some sort of scientist.
“What's that?” asked Bonnie, now feeling a bit apprehensive with the new presence of the older man who had a glass tank.
“Try to relax…” reassured the older man. Everything will be ok.”
In her near-drunken state, Bonnie didn’t notice that the younger man, Bob, had stood up from his seat and walked to an area behind her. As the older man opened the lid on the tank, Bonnie grew all the more apprehensive. She was about to stand up and walk out. But then a pair of arms reached from behind and held Bonnie down. The arms were Bob’s, and they proceeded to wrap rope around her and the chair in means to tie her in place.
“What the hell are you doing? demanded Bonnie. “Let me go!” By now, she was firmly tied into the chair and there was no way to escape.
“Try not to worry.” urged Bob. “It looks like you are getting a bit nervous. The agreement you signed with us states that if needed, restraints will be used on you during the experiment.”
“What???? No!!!” cried out Bonnie. “Let me out of here!”
Bob walked around and sat down in the seat across from Bonnie. “But it was stated in the contract that you would not be released, no matter how much you begged. It’s written, here, in the fine print.” Bob held up the contract to show Bonnie.
“Unbelievable…” complained Bonnie. “This is not right.” She looked over to the older man who now picked up from the inside of the glass tank what appeared to be a rattlesnake. Bonnie wanted no part of a snake!  “No!!!” she screamed. “I don’t want to do something if it involves a snake!”
“Sorry…” rejected the older man wearing gloves with snake in hand. “A deal is a deal. You receive $100 for participating in our experiment. You signed a contract and there is no way out.” He positioned the rattlesnake by its neck and replaced its fangs against a milking glass. Immediately, venom poured in.
By now, Bonnie was turning ill at the sight of a mean rattlesnake dripping sickly venom into the glass. “What are you going to do with that?” she demanded.
The older man in lab coat did not answer. He simply set the rattlesnake back in the tank and quickly shut the lid. Then he removed a hypodermic needle from his side pocket and placed it in the venom at the bottom of the glass.
“Tell me you are not going to inject me with that!” cried Bonnie.
But the old man said not a word as the snake venom was drawn into the shot.
“Please stop!” pleaded Bonnie. “I don’t want to do this!”
“It will be okay…” reassured Bob. “And there’s no backing out. It's spelled out in the contract under the fine print. We will be injecting you with a small dose of snake venom to see how your body reacts under a near inebriated state.
The older man in lab coat approached Bonnie as she let out bloodcurdling screams. In horror she watched as the needle stuck into her arm.
Now what?
The End!