R.B. Holbrook's Blog, page 14
June 13, 2013
Angel Flower
Demon: “Heehee!”
Angel: “Why are you laughing like that?”
Demon: “Wait for it…”
Angel: “For what?”
Demon points to the opening door.
Randy: “Angel Babe!” Randy walks in with a bouquet of roses.
Angel: “Angel. It’s just Angel. Why I can’t see you for the flowers? Oh! Do you have a sweetheart to which you want to give those flowers? Ah, love!”
Demon: “HEEHEEHEEHEE!”
Angel: “Demon?”
Randy: “They’re for you, Angel, my love.”
Angel: “Um… Oh! This is a writing prompt isn’t it?”
Randy: “No! I even got Demon to write you a love poem.”
Demon: “HOHO! Ready?”
Angel: “Demon, you didn’t…?”
Demon: “Ahem….”
~~~*~~~
Angel Flower
You got the power
To melt my heart
And sanitize my fart
You are my queen
So squeaky clean
My lady luck
Who I want to-
~~~*~~~
Angel: “Demon!“
Demon: “Buuwaahahahaha!“
Randy: “Hmmm, maybe I should have written it…”
Angel: *sign*
Randy: “Please, Angel, take these as a gesture of my love,” says holding out the roses.
Angel: “Oh, dear… Randy, forgive my rudeness, while I do love you, it is not as you may want. My love is a caring that is unconditional and unbiased… I love you like a sister loves her brother or like a mother loves her child. I know no other love. I hope you understand-”
Randy burst into tears.
Angel: “Oh, no! No, Randy don’t cry.”
Demon: “Hahahahahahaha!! Hooooheeheehee-”
Angel: she turns on Demon, “You! You did this, knowing! You foul, evil, vile, smudge on this Earth, I’ll-”
Demon: “Oops! Gotta go!”
RbH
Filed under: Angel vs. Demon Blog Tagged: Angel vs. Demon, flowers, love poem, R B Holbrook, roses, writing
June 12, 2013
Adversary and Ally
Randy: “Demon, you have to help me!”
Demon: “No the hell I don’t. I don’t even like you.”
Randy: “You know Angel better than I do. You’ve gotta help me woo her.”
Demon: “Woo? Wait-”
Randy: “I know she’s out of my league because she’s so lovely and pure, but you just have to help me!”
Demon: “I DON’T EVEN LIKE YOU!”
Randy: “Nor I you, but enemies can be allies when there is a common goal. Frank Herbert said Enemies make you stronger, allies make you weaker. So set your bias aside only for a pinch chap and-”
Demon: “Okay, Randy. You want my help?”
Randy: “Yes!”
Angel: “Hey, do we have another writing prompt yet?”
Randy: “Yes: two adversaries unite for a common goal!”
Angel: “Demon-”
Demon: “You got this one Angel, me and Randy have business to discuss.”
Angel: “Huh?”
^^^<>^^^
Michael slapped his hand over Jimmy’s mouth before the younger brother could tell on him.
Quickly shushing the boy he whispered in Jimmy’s ear, “If you tell mom, she’ll get mad again. Remember what she said before we left home?”
Jimmy’s eyes bulged. He nodded, remembering that if she had to talk to them one more time today, neither one of them would be getting ice cream. And she would use the scary screaming face.
Jimmy pulled Michael’s hand from over his mouth. “Then don’t call me names,” Jimmy whispered.
“Fine.” Michael shrugged.
As they stepped into the teleporter, their mother looked over her shoulder at them. They both straightened up, painting on innocent masks.
Once they teleported into the grocery store, they followed their mother from the cereal aisle to the dairy aisle like perfect angels. At the ice cream aisle, their mother grabbed two different boxes of ice cream bars: one of Jimmy’s favorite flavor and one of Michael’s.
During checked out while each item was scanned and beamed to their home, Jimmy leaned over and whispered into Michael’s ear, “Dummy.”
Their mother’s head swung around and eyes narrowed. Her personal holographic imaging system transformed and magnified her features to look more grotesque before she thundered in an evil amplified voice, “What was that?”
Fear made them jump. “Nothing,” Both said hugging each other as if they were best friends, knowing as soon as they got home, after the ice cream was served and eaten, the war was back on.
^^^<>^^^
Demon: “So this is what you do…”
Randy: “Oh. Okay. I see…”
Angel: “Uh… I finished… What are you two up to?”
RbH
Filed under: Angel vs. Demon Blog Tagged: Angel vs. Demon, brothers, cooperation, fear, flash fiction, Frank Herbert, R B Holbrook, short story, team work, writing
June 11, 2013
Illuminating the Soul
Randy: “Yo, Demon Dog.”
Demon: “What the hell did you just call me?”
Randy: “So tell me about the adorable Angel Babe.”
Demon: “Adorable who?”
Randy: “I know you got a thing for Angel. Who wouldn’t? Don’t play dumb… or maybe you’re not playing.”
Demon: “Look, bitch, if you want your teeth knocked out just say so. And who the hell would have a thing for that stiff, holier-than-though, by-the-book, halo snob.”
Randy: “But she’s so pretty and glowy and sweet and…”
Demon: “Ugh, I think I just threw up in my mouth.”
Angel: walks into the room, “Hey, guys, what’s going on?”
Demon: “Our next writing prompt, I hope… before I hang myself.”
Randy: “Begin the story with this sentence: Her eyes were eternal light illuminating the soul.”
Demon: “Angel, you take this one. I’m go to go vomit.”
Angel: “Oh… okay…”
???…???
Her eyes were eternal light illuminating the soul.
She spoke softly, pouring cream into the rich dark coffee. “Did you amend the costs?”
I nodded, sliding the estimates across the table. Long thin fingers tucked under the edge of the paper lifting it just enough to read.
While her lips moved slightly, silently reading, I reached for the sugar, pulled three packages from the small white holder, and sat them beside her saucer. She paused, looked over at the offering, and then up at me.
With intelligent soul saving eyes, shining, she asked. “Am I so predictable? Or are you that observant?”
No, I’m that into you. “Maybe a little of both.” I leaned back into my chair, taking in the sight of her.
Her smile dimmed slightly. Those beautiful eyes never left his before her head tilted slightly and she leaned forward to speak, “Mr. Cannon,” Dropping their gaze, she returned to the paper and the subject at hand, “I am starting to think you are getting the estimates wrong for a reason. This would be our third meeting over coffee to discuss something that seems very plain and obvious… at least it should be. And yet, I get another wrong estimate from a man who came highly recommended by many of my associates. So I have to ask-”
I chuckled, knowing well how busted I was. Usually, I prided myself in professionalism. My business was my life, the source of the food on my table and the roof over my head. It healed the wounds of losing my father and my job in the same year ten years ago. It took time to build an honorable reputation.
For this woman and the glorious soul before me, I’d exude honesty and consideration.
“Forgive me. My attraction to you has overwhelmed my better sense. As much as I love my work, I find myself… captivated by you.”
The surprised look on her face dropped my heart into her lap.
“So I will do this,” I took the paper back, scribbled in the correct figures, then represented the contract, “If this meets your approval, please say so. I’ll go back to my office, type it up and send it to you for signing. Once business is concluded between us, do me the honor of,” Marriage… no, too fast. But I was going to marry her, she just didn’t know it. “A date. One date.” I would dazzle her with all I had.
Blinking, her eyes focused on the paper as life returned to her shocked complexion. “Yes.” She nodded slowly.
“Yes, the contract is satisfactory?”
A musical giggle played in the air. “That as well as I would love to go on a date with you.” Shyness, turned her head slightly. This new side of her made me desire her lips.
???…???
Demon: “Shit, gonna be sick…”
Randy: “I think it was beautiful, Angel.”
Angel: “Thank you, Randy.”
RbH
Filed under: Angel vs. Demon Blog Tagged: Angel vs. Demon, flash fiction, love story, R B Holbrook, short story, writing
June 6, 2013
No. Don’t Sleep.
Randy: “Lack of sleep can be linked to weight problems.”
Angel: “I hope RB is getting enough sleep.”
Demon: “Probably not. You know how RB gets when inspiration hits: common sense right out the damn door.”
Randy: “Chronically not getting enough sleep can lead to a shorter lifespan.”
Angel: “Maybe I should check on RB and make sure she’s going to bed and resting.”
Randy: “Sleep deficiency hampers the ability to learn and retain information.”
Demon: “Yeah, check on RB and make sure she’s not butchering that book while I write something about this shitty sleep writing prompt…”
$$$***$$$
Running her hands over her knees, Cassie kept her eyes open and fixed to the window over her bed. Back against the door to keep it closed, she trembled nervously. Her body needed rest, sleep.
The window shivered from the blowing wind. The walls creaked and pressed in toward her. Jerking her head left, right, up, and down, she checked all corners and shadows in the room. Her heart labored in her chest, beating at its cage painfully. It was her mind. Her mind! It was playing tricks…
No relaxing! No sleep!
Tears dripped from dry eyes that were forced to remain open. This battle wasn’t going in her favor. If she didn’t find sleep soon, her body would fail, her heart would stop, and trying to stay awake wouldn’t matter.
Just a second. She needed rest to fight. Her body must be ready. If she closed her eyes and rested for a minute… Only a little… She only need… Needed…
The window shattered. The door at her back rattled and cracked. Cassie’s eyes refused to open even as she screamed her arms and legs into action. When her eyes finally opened, what little hope she knew, died.
$$$***$$$
Randy: “Creepy.”
Angel: “RB’s not going to like this piece. It’s too much like that nightmare… wait… Did you write this one on purpose?”
Demon: “Maybe.”
Angel: “Evil.”
RbH
Filed under: Angel vs. Demon Blog Tagged: Angel vs. Demon, flash fiction, R B Holbrook, shadows, short story, sleep, sleep deprivation
June 5, 2013
What Makes You So Special?
Randy: “What makes you so special?”
Angel: “Who me?”
Demon: “I think he’s picking a fight Angel. I wouldn’t take that if I were you.”
Randy: “What makes you so special?”
Angel: “Wait… I think he’s talking to you, Demon.”
Demon: “Oh, no the hell he isn’t or I’ll give him special.”
Randy: “That’s the theme! Write it! Ready, set-”
Angel: “I’ll take this prompt.”
Demon: “No, I want it!”
Angel: “I called it first.”
Randy: “Rock, paper, scissors! On three?” Angel and Demon position themselves, “One. Two. Three-”
Demon: “Damn!”
Angel: “Ha! My win…”
+++)()(+++
What makes him so special? So what if Morgan has more female friends than I. So what if he works out at the gym longer than I do. Big deal. I don’t see why anyone would care about him.
Yeah, he drives a Ferrari. Who cares! I have an Aston Martin. He’s just flashy and likes to show off. Nothing special. Strip away the fancy Hugo Boss and Armani suits, unclasp the Tiffany diamond cufflinks, and take off the alligator Ferragamo shoes and he’s just another man like me.
What makes him think he’s anything worthy of praise? He landed that $15 million dollar account with my help. To announce our success, he buys everyone lunch at this famous Wolfgang Puck restaurant. I would have done that, he just got to it first. I mean, what qualities make everyone swoon around him-
“Hey Morgan! Do that trick you did at the Christmas party!”
What trick? Why is everyone in such an uproar? I was there at that party. He didn’t do anything that great. I didn’t drink so much that I would have missed it. What was so special… Whoa…how…Wow!
He.
Can.
FLY!?!?
+++)()(+++
Randy: “HE CAN FLY!!! Zoooooooooom!“
Demon: “I could’ve done better.”
Angel: “Jealous much?”
RbH
Filed under: Angel vs. Demon Blog Tagged: Angel vs. Demon, creative writing, flash fiction, flying, R B Holbrook, short story, special
June 4, 2013
Napoleon’s Complexion
Randy: “Did you know that Napoleon I Bonaparte was Emperor of France?”
Demon: “Yeah, he’s one of my favorite peeps! We had a talk yesterday. That dude loves to-”
Randy: “Did you know that for his time period and location, Napoleon was considered above average in height?”
Demon: “Did you just cut me off? Son of a bitch! I’m gonna slap you so far off the ground-”
Angel: “Calm down, please, Demon.”
Randy: “So that means Napoleon is not only wronged in modern day, but the term Napoleon Complex is an incorrect statement for a social stereotype about short men.”
Angel: “That’s all well and good, but what does this have to do with our writing prompt.”
Randy: “I don’t know. Use it.”
Angel: “Um… Uh… Demon, you know Napoleon, why don’t you-”
Demon: “Yeah, yeah…”
###—###
The nameless man stood. Every limb, hair, and cell shook panicked. His naked body sweated from the temperature of his new surroundings.
“Euh, new meat!” An odd voice called from the smoking darkness.
“You mean fresh meat.” Another voice corrected with a strong whiff of putrid flesh and rotten eggs drifting by with each steaming word.
“Hmph! When did you get in the habit of correcting me? I did not think you like correction.”
“I don’t but knowing you hate being corrected makes me wanna do it.”
High pitched eager greedy giggles sounded around Nameless. What he thought was only two were many.
Nameless swallowed swiping his brow of sweat. “Hello?”
“Euh, yes, new meat.” The odd voice said.
“Fresh meat!” The dark smirked.
“Argh!” An emasculated figure walked from the lurking blackness into the hot light. Nameless flinched from the sight. “My name is Emperor Napoleon Bonaparte. The pleasure is yours.” Standing hairless from head to toe, the odd voice stood shorter than Nameless. The creature was covered with oozing black sores, thick black ash, and decaying black charred skin.
“Napoleon who?” Nameless shivered away from the figure while his hopping feet burned.
The charred flesh blinked and opened his toothless mouth to speak, “You… Never…”
Laughter erupted around them — a mixture of monstrous roars, wicked giggles, and taunting whispers, “You not as famous as Hitler. You not as tall as Idi Amin.”
“Shut up!” The disfigured one shouted.
“I’m…I’m sorry… Did I do something wrong?”
“Yes,” The greedy giggles sang, “You killed them and hid the bodies. No one found them, ever. But the knowing knew. The knowing always knows.” More giggles vibrated in his ear, poking his mind.
The heat increased and the darkness reached its hands to take him. He jerked, but wasn’t able to escape.
“I didn’t do it! It wasn’t me!” The further he was dragged, the hotter his skin blistered. The blacker it got, the deeper the giggles laughed echoing though the hollows of darkness.
“The knowing knowssss.” The smoking darkness hissed. “Your dead knows. You LIE!” Cold froze his lungs halting his breath and screams as heat cooked his flesh.
“Cut his gentiles off!” Napoleon snapped wickedly. “Make him suffer that first for not knowing who I am. Ignorant uneducated… I am Napoleon Bonaparte! Emperor of France, Conqueror of Europe, and-”
“Creator of the Short Man’s Complex!” The giggles resounded.
“I am not short!” Was the last thing Nameless heard before the flames rose and pain shut all senses off.
###—###
Randy: shivering, “I am… disturbed.”
Angel: “Really, Demon?”
Demon: “What? You told me to write about the Napoleon I know.”
Angel: “That’s not what I- Oh forget it.”
RbH
Filed under: Angel vs. Demon Blog Tagged: Angel vs. Demon, Emperor of France, flash fiction, hell, Napoleon Bonaparte, R B Holbrook, writing
May 23, 2013
Blue Puppy
Randy: “I like blue puppies.”
Angel: “Blue puppies?”
Demon: “What is that a new drug? If so I wanna try it.”
Randy: “Blue puppies are so cute and fluffy.”
Angel: “Oh, dear, you might be right, Demon. I think whatever it was, he took it.”
Randy: “Hahaha! I’ve never taken blue puppies. I’ve never seen a blue puppy. But I want a blue puppy. Make me a blue puppy!”
Demon: “Black and blue coming up!” Demon pushes up his sleeves.
Angel: “No, Demon, don’t hit him. I think its our writing prompt.”
Demon: “What kind of shit-”
Angel: “Don’t worry, I’ll write this one.”
+++===+++
Abigail entered the code on the digital console before looking down at Presley who was wagging his fluffy tail feverishly. His tiny body began to change from cotton white to devilish red. The Maltese hopped and barked, rolling around on the floor. “No? No red?” She asked before laughing and entering another code. The puppy paled blue. Sky blue.
Then came the sideways “Why?” head tilt Presley always gave her when he wondered what they were waiting for.
“No walk today, buddy. We’re still under quarantine lockdown. When they lift security, we can leave.” Her hand waved across the console, redecorating the whole interior design of the apartment to match Presley. Reaching another level of boredom, Abigail had redecorated Presley and the apartment’s color scheme five or seven times in three days because some genius in apartment 2B smuggled in a Martian Calico kitten without going through decontam.
Now the apartment building was under the magnifying glass until Hazmat Systems said otherwise. Waving her hand over the console again, the anti-gravity locks released. Her butt lifted from the chair, her hair floated off her shoulder as Presley began barking disapproval.
Laughing, she swam to the windows to stare out at the rest of the space station wondering if Mark was missing her. Right about now the two of them would be sitting together on a bench in the dog park planning an imaginary vacation to the Alpha 5 station.
“Skiing, Presley! I want to go skiing in real snow. Not that simulated stuff.” She grinned back at the little blue ball of fur that paddled in the air trying to walk. She turned back to the window, staring pass the artificial arms of the space station to the dull sight of breathing gases in Saturn’s atmosphere.
She’d been here too long. There were so many places she wanted to go, wanted to see. Places she only heard about in the networks and from other people’s adventures. Maybe one day she’d get to see the oceans of Vadana Prime.
<> the electronic voice sounded across all channels of communication.
“Gravity!” Abigail yelled. The blue bolt of energy hit the floor running knowing exactly where they were headed. “Presley, you forgot your leash!”
+++===+++
Randy: “Blue puppy!”
Demon: “At least it wasn’t mushy.”
Angel: “Thank you… I think?”
RbH
Filed under: Angel vs. Demon Blog Tagged: Angel vs. Demon, anti-gravity, blue puppy, R B Holbrook, space station, writing, writing prompt
May 21, 2013
To Be or Not To Be… Random.
Angel: “So who gets the first prompt?”
Demon: “Hell, be my guest.”
Angel: “Demon, are you pouting?”
Demon: “I hate that bitch, Randy. I don’t want to work with him.”
Angel: “It will be okay, Demon. I’m sure he will be reasonable. I mean he’s harmless, just all talk. As RB said, he’s just random information-”
Randy: “To be, or not to be. That is the question.”
Angel: “Excuse me, what?”
Randy: “That’s the writing prompt. Like it?”
Angel: “Shakespeare?”
Randy: “Sure.”
Demon: “Whoa! I got this!!”
Angel: “I thought you hated Shakespeare?”
Demon: grinning devilishly, he rubs his hands together. “Oh I do. I so do. As much as I hate Randy. MUWAHAHAHAHA!!“
Angel: “Uh, oh…”
***—***
The man was dead. Beyond dead. And yet Mr. Randy and every other bitch English Lit teacher decided that Shakespeare was classic. Classic! If he was so classic, couldn’t they translate his work into modern language for people like myself to read him.
“To be, or not to be, that is the question…” I began to recite Hamlet from the text as instructed by the Ancient Fart Mr. Randy, who sat at the front of the class peering over his glasses at me while the rest of the class loomed quiet over their own books. Henry kept sneaking looks back at me, knowing the peace was about to shatter. “Whether ‘tis nobler in the mind to suffer… as I am suffering now.” The snickers were soft at first, “The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, or to take arms against a sea of troubles, and by opposing end them: to die, to sleep… To die. Please kill me now,” I sigh as more snickering came.
“Mr. Stevenson?” Mr. Randy’s voice cut in with a warning.
Oh, hell no! The old shit couldn’t steal this from me. No, no, this close-to-dust teacher gave me this lame assignment knowing I hated Shakespeare, thus, I was going to take the opportunity to show him the error of his damn ways.
“Sorry, Mr. Randy. Let me do Shakespeare justice.” I cleared my throat, raised one hand and as if conducting an orchestra I sang loudly, “Gotta put my back into it!” I rotated my shoulders before the dramatization commenced, “No more; and by a sleep, to say we end the heartache, and the thousand natural shocks that flesh is heir to? ‘Tis a consummation devoutly to be wished. To die to sleep,” I pointed to Veronica and pressed my hand over my chest. “Oh, I die to sleep with you Veronica! Flesh to my flesh,” Her cheeks flushed red. “To sleep, perchance to dream,” He winked at Sara, “To dream of sleeping with you Sara,” Of course Sara rolled her eyes. “Aye, there’s the rub, for in that sleep of death, what dreams may come, when we have shuffled off this mortal coil,” When I grabbed my crotch, the class roared with laughter.
Mr. Randy stood to his feet and pointed to the door. “Get out Mr. Stevenson!”
Dropping the book, I bowed, then took my exit. Stage left. Not only did I not have to look at that boring ass Mr. Randy, I no longer had to read more from the classic dead man. Again, I triumphed to be or not to be… in that class.
***—***
Demon: “THE END!”
Randy: “Hey, that’s not nice!”
Angel: “Yes, well, you wanted this job, so now you have to endure what I endure. Welcome Mr. Random Ness.”
Demon: “MUWAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!“
RbH
Filed under: Angel vs. Demon Blog Tagged: Angel vs. Demon, English Literature, R B Holbrook, random, Shakespeare, short story, shorts, To be or not to be, writing, writing prompt
May 17, 2013
Impromptu 5 [END]
Angel: “Shhhhh, Demon.”
Demon: “Don’t shush me! Shot him!”
Randy: “Oh, is dee widdle demon whreatened by widdle ole me?”
Angel: “Please don’t egg him own Mr. Random Ness.”
Randy: “Just call me Randy, fairy babe.”
Angel: “Fairy?”
Demon: “See! He just called you a fairy. And Missy Prissy earlier. Stupid names! Are you going to let me kill him or not?”
Angel: “Demon, you know I don’t condone violence.”
Demon: “Then leave for a moment. I’ll make it quick and VERY painful.” Demon says forming a fireball.
Randy: “Help! HELP!! S.O.S!!!“
Rb: storming into the room, “DEMON!”
Random Ness runs behinds Rb cowering for his life.
Rb: “How come every time I get into the meat of my writing I get some kind of interruption? Demon, put the fire out. Angel tell me what’s going on?”
Angel: “Yes, well-”
Demon: “Why didn’t you tell us you created Sir Asshole over there. Damn, baby, why are you hiding? You had so much shit to say a moment ago. You’re big and bad, let widdle ole demon cure what ails you.”
Rb: “Randy is all talk. That’s it. Just random information. Stop antagonizing Demon, Randy, because I don’t want blood on my floor unless you plan to clean it up.”
Demon: “There’ll be no blood when I’m done.”
Rb: “Scorch marks are just as bad. Randy, why are you here anyway?”
Randy: “Oscar the Grouch and Fairy Babe needed a neutral party to provide writing prompts. And *puff* I’m here to do just that.”
Angel: “I’m an angel not a fairy.”
Demon: “We don’t want him.”
Rb: “Who else do you have in mind then?”
Demon: “You!”
Rb: “No. Work to do. So it’s settled. Randy-”
Demon: “You’ve got to be shitting me!”
Rb: “You get the job. They’re all yours,” Rb says while walking out the door.
Angel: “Well… Since it’s decided… I guess…”
Demon: “Noooooooooooooooo!!”
Randy: “I won’t let you down, Angel Babe.”
Angel: “It’s Angel. Just plain Angel.”
Demon: “It’s not fair!” He whines, “Why this jackass?”
Randy: “When do I begin?”
RbH
Filed under: Angel vs. Demon Blog Tagged: Angel vs. Demon, blog, interruptions, R B Holbrook, writing, writing prompt
Imprompt 5 [END]
Angel: “Shhhhh, Demon.”
Demon: “Don’t shush me! Shot him!”
Randy: “Oh, is dee widdle demon whreatened by widdle ole me?”
Angel: “Please don’t egg him own Mr. Random Ness.”
Randy: “Just call me Randy, fairy babe.”
Angel: “Fairy?”
Demon: “See! He just called you a fairy. And Missy Prissy earlier. Stupid names! Are you going to let me kill him or not?”
Angel: “Demon, you know I don’t condone violence.”
Demon: “Then leave for a moment. I’ll make it quick and VERY painful.” Demon says forming a fireball.
Randy: “Help! HELP!! S.O.S!!!“
Rb: storming into the room, “DEMON!”
Random Ness runs behinds Rb cowering for his life.
Rb: “How come every time I get into the meat of my writing I get some kind of interruption? Demon, put the fire out. Angel tell me what’s going on?”
Angel: “Yes, well-”
Demon: “Why didn’t you tell us you created Sir Asshole over there. Damn, baby, why are you hiding? You had so much shit to say a moment ago. You’re big and bad, let widdle ole demon cure what ails you.”
Rb: “Randy is all talk. That’s it. Just random information. Stop antagonizing Demon, Randy, because I don’t want blood on my floor unless you plan to clean it up.
Demon: “There’ll be no blood when I’m done.”
Rb: “Scorch marks are just as bad. Randy, why are you here anyway?”
Randy: “Oscar the Grouch and Fairy Babe needed a neutral party to provide writing prompts. And *puff* I’m here to do just that.”
Angel: “I’m an angel not a fairy.”
Demon: “We don’t want him.”
Rb: “Who else do you have in mind then?”
Demon: “You!”
Rb: “No. Work to do. So it’s settled. Randy-”
Demon: “You’ve got to be shitting me!”
Rb: “You get the job. They’re all yours,” Rb says while walking out the door.
Angel: “Well… Since it’s decided… I guess…”
Demon: “Noooooooooooooooo!!”
Randy: “I won’t let you down, Angel Babe.”
Angel: “It’s Angel. Just plain Angel.”
Demon: “It’s not fair!” He whines, “Why this jackass?”
Randy: “When do I begin?”
RbH
Filed under: Angel vs. Demon Blog Tagged: Angel vs. Demon, blog, interruptions, R B Holbrook, writing, writing prompt
