comedy

An ode to the death of rats

The night was dark and gloomy. No stars were visible across the densely clouded sky. The cold wind of winter howled occasionally as it made its way across the empty streets, stirring some noises into the otherwise quiet streets. Behind the noise of the galloping wind was a tapping sound. It slowly grew stronger as it made its way through the street towards a wide bridge, where it abruptly stopped. The noise belonged to two heavy-set gentleman who were carrying a third individual with them. That individual seemed less at ease but that might be have been due to the fact that his feet were encased in cement. The two heavy-set men were about to heave the incapacitated men off the bridge and into the cold river below, when a set of quick steps echoed through the streets.

The heavy-set men stopped and looked around them to find that the quick steps belonged to a strangely clad gentleman who had was wearing a colorful red robe and a large pointy hat with the word wizzard on it, his face was decorated with a large brown beard.

The three people on the bridge forgot everything for a moment; what they were supposed to do; who they were, and just stared open-mouthed at the strange manifestation that stood in front of them.

‘I am very sorry to disturb you, but could you perhaps tell me when I am?’ asked the strange ‘wizzard’.

Noticing that his colleagues were somewhat lost in their minds, trying to make a piece that shouldn’t be there fit in their world, the encased person took the opportunity to speak and try to convey as many signs as possible to the ‘wizzard’ that he needed help urgently. The signs manifested themselves as winks, eyebrow raising, little fits of coughing and other such tricks. ‘You are in 1955… huuehuumm…’

‘Oh!’ the wizzard seemed to ponder at this and stared back at the gentleman. ‘So this might be roundworld right?’ he asked.

The incapacitated gentleman was becoming increasingly anxious. He tried everything he could think of short of crying out for help and nothing seemed to be working. ‘I guess so… I don’t know!’ He answered angrily. ‘But we could talk about it all you want over a pint?!’ he said smiling a large and nervous smile.

The wizzard stared at the gentleman and said ‘No thank you, I’ll be running away now. Thank you.’

This seemed to break the spell and the two heavy-set men finally moved from their position. Understanding that this might be his very last chance the gentleman called out ‘Aren’t you going to help me?!’

‘Oh no!’ answered the wizzard ‘I can’t risk something happening to me.’ and with that the wizzard was gone his quick steps quickly nothing more than an ancient memory.

The heavy-set men turned back to the job at hand.

‘Can’t we talk about this? I mean this was so weird, why don’t we just laugh it off in the pub?’

The men looked at each-other and silently agreed that going to the pub was a very good idea indeed. They heaved the gentleman over the edge and walked towards the nearest pub where they had a good few drinks. The gentleman’s plunge into the water was witnessed by no one except a pigeon who happened to fly by. What happened after the plunge was also witnessed by no one. Not even the pigeon. A strangely clothed person took off his pointy hat and robe and jumped into the water…

Note:

This is my little ode to Terry Pratchett whose work I admire and cherish. May you rest in peace and may death and the death of rats welcome you into their domain.

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Conversations

“You know what I hate the most about that movie?” asked David.

            “No, but I bet I can guess. The voices!” exclaimed Donnie.

            “You’re absolutely right! Those god awful voices, I mean you would think the director would at least do or say something to those two”

            “Could you imagine that conversation going down? They are both character actors so they would both remain in character the whole time. So you would have Bane on the one hand and Batman on the other or you know Hardy aka Bronson and Bale talking to Nolan”

            “Yea hardy was kickass in Bronson, but no that would never happen. Nolan would never talk to them, he would send his production assistant or someone, I mean have you seen the size of those two? They could wipe the floor with him”

            “Yea your right so you would have this production assistant trying to communicate with those two… Guys there is a problem. The director thinks you should change the voices a little and…

            “WSSDFESDTWEFREPSSSSSSSDRWFERF”

            “Well it’s not me; it’s the director who said it I swear. Yes I know Mr Bale you are batman, but… Oh Christopher just informed me that whatever you want to do it’s all right”

            “ASDEFSDCSD”

            “Can you believe what type of movie you would have if they changed the voices?”

            “Yea a halfway descent one. Hahaha”

            “Do you know the story of the man and the woman?”

            “Don’t think so”

            “So a guy tells his wife. Ok I’ll prove to you once and for all that a kick to the balls is more painful than childbirth. Fine, says the woman go ahead prove it. So the guy says in the history of the world no guy has ever said you know what go ahead kick me in the balls again”

            “Ha ha. But you know that’s not true you remember that weird guy at that student party we went to?”

            “What guy?”

            “There was this guy there that granted had way too much to drink but he asked Tim to kick him in the nuts. You remember? Tim was wearing those heavy army boots that have metal plating in them and he kicked him as hard as he could. The guy literally came off the ground and then to everyone’s surprise asked him to do it 3 more times. After that Tim had enough and half expected the guy to drop dead right there and then”

            “That was a great party I laughed my ass off”

            “Yeah. We still have that picture of the two of us, actually the weirdest thing about that party next to the really alcoholic punch that we made was that we still had loads of beers left afterwards. We thought everything would be finished and we still had a crate. Ok granted 15 crates were gone, but students are known never to stop right until they drop”

            “If I remember correctly quite a few dropped”

            “Yeah you’re right. Good times man”

            “Good times”