As you may know, I’m editing a collection of short stories to publish my first book this summer, entitled This Ain’t What You Rung For. Included toward the end is a smattering of the very short pieces I scribble during Journal Writing time in my Creative Writing class. Here is but one selection from that treasure trove. Watch for the book later in 2013 to explore a whole lot more!
There’s this guy, and he’s flappin’ his arms, and he goes: “Yes! terday I was flappin’ my dog’s arms!”
“What are you talking about?” asked the judge. The entire courtroom was peering at the guy with inflamed curiosity.
“You know,” he said, “my dog’s arms. He goes dancin’ the la bambaaa..” As he began to sing, the guy rose to his feet and sashayed around the courtroom. His lawyer sank her head into her hands.
The judge banged his gavel. “Mister President,” he said. “This is highly unorthodox.”
But the president couldn’t hear the judge. He was lost in his own tiny little world, a world of wood sprites and gumdrop munchkins, where ducks shoot grapes at hammers and all the world’s a big bathtub filled with tofu-based snack treats.
“Bailiff,” the judge said, “please escort the witness back to the stand.” But it was too late. The president was dancing right out the doors of the courtroom and disappeared into the hallway. The judge was about to declare a mistrial, when the doors suddenly slammed open once again, and there stood the president — with Marie Antoinette beside him!
All the spectators gasped in astonishment, then exploded with spontaneous applause. It was a great day for America. Marie Antoinette was a caveman.
THE END
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