Sunday, February 1, 2015

Weekly Prompt Story: The Mesopotamians #FebruEighties

The B-52’s
By Christopher Munroe

Don’t get me wrong, I love the B-52’s. Classic new wave band. Roam, Summer of Love, Good Stuff, all brilliant .

However, the song Mesopotamia, I’m out.

It’s just that they have moments where they’re too cutesy by half, and by “There’s a lot of ruins in Meso-po-tamia” I can’t deal with it.

HOWEVER, I am still feeling the ‘80s vibe, so I switched to Adam Ant. You might agree with this decision, you might not.

That’s fine, I’m used to it.

It happens all the time.

All of those who get to know me, become admires or my enemies…

Thursday, January 29, 2015

Idea for a Tumbler

Step One: Join a dating website. Doesn’t matter which one.

Step Two: Post photos of a conventionally attractive catalogue model and claim that it’s you.

Step Three: When dudes start sending you unsolicited dick pics, which they absolutely will, post them to, which I just checked and yes, it IS available, with amusing dick pic related captions. Then, send back a link to the gent who thought his junk would impress you so, and watch him melt down.

Fireworks will assuredly fly.

Now, I know there are some ethical concerns here, and you’re not wrong to bring them up, this is an unconscionable and absolutely inappropriate invasion of privacy, and it’s grossly irresponsible at the very least for me to even suggest such a thing. Whether you take me up on this plan is your business, between you and your conscience, but if you DO need a way to ease the obvious ethical concerns that this plan, let me say: Anyone who gets angry enough to trace the pictures will quickly learn that you’re using a stock photo of a conventionally attractive catalogue model, and won’t for a moment believe she’s actually the one running the tumbler. At worst she’ll get a little negative publicity but go about her life, barely aware that this has happened.

So you see, your concerns are unfounded, she’ll be fine. But sweet of you to worry.

And as far as the privacy of the guys sending unsolicited dick pics to people on the internets, I think we can all agree that fuck those guys…

Sunday, January 25, 2015

Weekly Prompt Story: Happiness

By Christopher Munroe

If you’re happy and you know it, weep some tears.

If you’re happy and you know it, shriek with fear.

If you’re happy and you know it, and you really want to show it, if you’re happy and you know it, it ultimately doesn’t matter, nobody will hear your screams, will ever find you down here, not ever. Not until my work is finished.

Why are you crying? Are you not happy? Do you not know it?

My attempt at a children’s television program, I’ll be first to admit, was ill-conceived, and it ultimately probably did deserve to be cancelled.

Thursday, January 22, 2015

Idea for a Murder - A Mental Note

I intend to kidnap a person, it doesn’t really matter who, and imprison him, stripped to the waist, hung upside down, tied to a cross, and cut open at the wrists.

Yes, I know. Again.

This time around, his restraints will act as makeshift tourniquets, slowing the bleeding during his imprisonment.

I intend to keep him completely motionless, powerless, head strapped back, eyes held open Clockwork Orange style, staring ever forward, unable to look away, unable even to blink as he stares.

And then, I will force him to watch the popular television series Hannibal, and as he watches over the course of hours I will, slowly, ever more slowly arrange that his restraints should be loosened, allowing him only slightly more freedom of movement should he choose but, the more he moves, the more he might cause his blood to flow...

He can, should he choose, attempt to free himself, but I suspect that he will remain where he is, both due to his fear at bleeding out and out of a desire to continue watching. Hannibal is, after all, a very good show.

If all goes according to plan, he’ll bleed out while watching the season finale, but before the big reveal.

In this way he’ll die fully invested in the program but never knowing how it ends, wondering as the life slips from him what he’s missing but never able to know for sure.

In this way the death he struggled so mightily to avoid will come, inescapable, his patience amounting in the end to nothing, his life amounting to the same, my victory over him, and the victory of quality television, in his death, finally complete…

This is my design.

Sunday, January 18, 2015

Weekly Prompt Story: Mess

Cleaning Up
By Christopher Munroe

…another fine mess you’ve gotten us into.

I suppose you expect me to bail you out ?

Fine. Bring the bone saw, fetch a rug. I’ll dismember the corpse and we can dispose of it at the quarry before coming back to scrub blood out of carpet and walls.

Make sure nobody sees you, there’s no reason for us to be here, so if no trace is found no one will suspect and in a few hours we’ll be home, enjoying a scotch.

But seriously, this is the last time I’m doing this.

I can’t clean up your messes forever…

Friday, January 16, 2015

Through the Doors

In an instant the night was destroyed by day, which in turn was divided by night, by endless night...

And in that night it came, it came for us, one and all.

Nobody knew exactly what it was we’d inadvertently unleashed when we breached the wall between worlds, thrown open the doors, because nobody had ever seen it and survived, but whatever it was it was not of this world, and all that was left of its victims…

I can’t, I can’t even begin. I’m sorry, I just can’t. It sickens me, my stomach hurts at the thought, my soul hurts. I don’t ever want to think of what it did to those poor, damned fools, not ever again. And yet, part of me knows that it’s not something I’ll ever be able to forget.

So those of us left scattered to the four winds, in the hopes that whatever it was we’d given access to our defenseless world might allow us to live out our days. We wouldn’t live them out in peace, there would be no peace for any one of us ever again and we knew it, but we hoped we might be allowed at least to live…

Even as the world ends, even for those responsible for ending it, hope springs. And though we knew there would be nothing we could do to save our miserable world from the unspeakable thing we’d unleashed, we held on to our hopes for base survival.

And so, we tried to run.

We tried to hide.

Because something had broken through, from the other side…

Monday, January 12, 2015

Weekly Prompt Story: Piracy

By Christopher Munroe

When Johnny Depp was kidnapped by actual Somali pirates, we all agreed it was going to be amazing. News networks went berserk, comedians got ready and we were primed to follow this amazing, if socially irrelevant, news story wherever it might take us.

It was, after all, the sort of amazing TV that didn’t come along every day, and we were excited to make the most of it.

Three days later the pirates killed him.

Because in real life, pirates do that.

It was kind of a downer.

Ah well. Hopefully the next thing will be a little more fun…