Flash Club April Flash Club Contest

[Anonymous]

*PLEASE IMAGINE THIS COMES AFTER The hammering stopped... and before Dammit!
(Apologies to all)

'Oh, s**t. I must activate the Emergency Portal.’

As a dusty figure staggered in, carrying a chain-saw, a whirling blaze of light filled the room.

 

[Anonymous]

Fortunately, hitting the SELF-DESTRUCT button only destroyed the hitter. Leaving others free to follow their arcs without interference and—more importantly—fear of judgemental annihilation.

 

[Anonymous]

Judgemental Annihilation were a crack team of superheroes and whizz kids whose mission was simple - Retribution. On hire to anybody who could afford them.

 

[Anonymous]

At the moment, no one could afford them. They were led by Katrina. Even more than money, Katrina loved Josh. Katrina only, truly, loved Josh. Josh was dead. This time, the retribution would be pro-bono.

 

[Emily]

[ Please be mindful of word count... *taps wooden spoon against palm* ]

 

[Anonymous]

Katrina, after all, had a wooden spoon, and she was willing to use it.

 

[Anonymous]

Ted sneezed, put down the chain-saw and caught his breath. Seeing off those two had been a struggle. But now to find the real Joss.

 

[Anonymous]

Katrina had an idea. She rifled the kitchen, found the wooden spoon then digitised it into her computer, stuck her VR headset back on and . . .

 

[Anonymous]

Ted opened his laptop. Joss. The boy was a lovable halfwit – why call himself 'Josh' undercover? – and the now-dead lookalike had been too savvy.

 

[Anonymous]

Ted puffed out his cheeks and rubbed his eyes. It was all so incredibly weird. Nothing today had made any sense at all. None. Whatsoever.

 

[gbhunt]

[ Please be mindful of word count... *taps wooden spoon against palm* ]

i accidentally liked someone sorry, won't do it again. At least I didn't destruct them

 

[Anonymous]

And the sodding underpants...Ted sneezed brick dust again. They were Gucci all right, but size XXXL? That girl was a complete chancer.

 

[Anonymous]

Or maybe they went for him. Who the fuck were they meant for?

 

[Anonymous]

Ted gritted his teeth. That girl was a fool. A chancer. There was something between them, though. Something dark and urgent.

 

[Anonymous]

He moved the mid-90s German industrial techo mixtape to one side. Now there was nothing between them.

 

[Anonymous]

Unfortunately, the ABBA compilation tape that he played instead... attracted a passing flock of dragons. Swedish dragons, with golden scales and razor claws.

 

[Anonymous]

"It was just a song," he groaned. " 'Won't somebody help me chase the shadows away' wasn't an S.O.S."

 

[Anonymous]

"You need helpe, man," said the small, cute one. "Look at you, always at screen. When have you wash? And Gucci underdrawers – like fit me.”

 

[Anonymous]

A voice. “This story’s bonkers!” Ted whirled around. The girl laughed. “Oh, this’s the first time you’ve heard the writers?”

 

[Anonymous]

'Who are you?' Ted yelled. 'Why did you get those bloody awful, humungous pants? Also, how the fuck did you get in?'

 

[Anonymous]

'I have an all-areas access pass,' she said, flashing her lanyard, but too fast for him to read. 'And I like the baggy look.'

 

[Anonymous]

"Plus, just here for the crisps." She took a crisp. "Oh, do carry on." Hesitated. "Are these gluten-free?"

 

[Anonymous]

'No, they are not sodding gluten-free,' Ted said and grabbed the bowl. 'Why do you women always pinch my crisps?'

 

[Anonymous]

'Us women? How many of me do you think there are? Jeez, boomer alert or what? Now, you know why I'm here. Where is it?'

 

[Anonymous]

"The broken-English dragon took the Gucci pants."

"To wear?"

"Hardly. Slight tail difficulty. For a designer egg warmer. Turns out she's a girl, too."

 

[Anonymous]

"Hm." The writer smirked. "Listen, lady--" But she cut Ted off. "Shh. Don't make me angry. Or I'll kill you off. That's what writers do."

 

[Anonymous]

'Kill me! You wouldn't dare. And anyway, you do know you're being watched.' He sat down with a crunch. 'Shit, who put those there?'

 

[Anonymous]

The writer chuckled and tapped her temple. "Writer, remember?" She crossed the room to stand behind Ted. "Ended up going with chips. Gluten-free."

 

[Anonymous]

'Well, you could have told me where you'd put them.' Ted stood and brushed his backside. 'You can eat them now.'

 

[Anonymous]

"You know," the writer said, "I'm beginning to like you. I couldn't kill you off." She selected a crushed crisp, tossing it in her mouth.