Short Story

[Pachinko]

This has been done before but I thought it was fun. Just add on to the paragraph I've written at the bottom, and reply with anything you want!

"Silence blanketed the room like a sort of white noise. Morrissey sat in his favorite chair (the cushy one) thought of his impending birthday - the years had flown by like a jet."

 

[Scarlet Ibis]

Silence blanketed the room like a sort of white noise. Morrissey sat in his favorite chair (the cushy one) thought of his impending birthday - the years had flown by like a jet. He wondered if anyone was planning to do something special. 50 is a pretty important birthday, so he assumed someone would do something. When he tried to imagine what that something special could be nothing very pleasing sprang to mind. He couldn't think of anyone he'd particularly enjoy seeing spring out of an enormous false cake.

 

[CharethCutestory]

Silence blanketed the room like a sort of white noise. Morrissey sat in his favorite chair (the cushy one) thought of his impending birthday - the years had flown by like a jet. He wondered if anyone was planning to do something special. 50 is a pretty important birthday, so he assumed someone would do something. When he tried to imagine what that something special could be nothing very pleasing sprang to mind. He couldn't think of anyone he'd particularly enjoy seeing spring out of an enormous false cake. Then, suddenly, the room exploded and Morrissey died.

The end.

 

[yesitis]

Or is it???

Morrissey awoke several hours later in the destroyed shell of his once beautiful house. He was badly cut and bruised, having been saved only by the thick plush fabric of his favourite chair acting as a shield against the explosion. "Funny," he thought, "that explosion definitely should have killed me. Here I am though. God bless you chair." He stood up, wiping the dust off his injured body, and stepped out from the remains of his house. Smoke was still wafting through the air, but Morrissey spotted the lone figure standing not too far away, a smug expression faintly visible on his face. Realizing he had been spotted, the look on his face turned to one of shock and the man turned to flee. It was too late though. Morrissey had recognized him.

"Joyce...", he growled, limping towards his underground weapons bunker.

With a rocket launcher strapped to his back and a cocked shotgun in his hand, Morrissey started up his Harley Davidson. He scowled as he adjusted his sunglasses and looked up to the sky.

"This time," he thought, "It's personal."

 

[Scarlet Ibis]

 

[Franzanna]

Morrissey awoke several hours later in the destroyed shell of his once beautiful house. He was badly cut and bruised, having been saved only by the thick plush fabric of his favourite chair acting as a shield against the explosion. "Funny," he thought, "that explosion definitely should have killed me. Here I am though. God bless you chair." He stood up, wiping the dust off his injured body, and stepped out from the remains of his house. Smoke was still wafting through the air, but Morrissey spotted the lone figure standing not too far away, a smug expression faintly visible on his face. Realizing he had been spotted, the look on his face turned to one of shock and the man turned to flee. It was too late though. Morrissey had recognized him.

"Joyce...", he growled, limping towards his underground weapons bunker.

With a rocket launcher strapped to his back and a cocked shotgun in his hand, Morrissey started up his Harley Davidson. He scowled as he adjusted his sunglasses and looked up to the sky.

"This time," he thought, "It's personal."

Joyce was armed. He started to run after the bike, but of course, with his cheeseburger diet, he simply could not. But Morrissey realised his mistake - a Harley Davidson? A Harley bloody Davidson? He had more taste than that. As he passed a parked milkfloat, he jumped aboard, smashing a crate of milk as he did so.
'Safe,' he thought. 'Safe and not looking like a complete moron.'

 

[The Cat's Mother]

.....
'Safe,' he thought. 'Safe and not looking like a complete moron.'

But only then did Morrissey realise that he was trapped in the milkfloat episode of Father Ted.

"You'll be the new priest, then?" smiled Father Dougal, as, distracted, he ran over the Craggy Island Flasher. "Let's hope you live longer than the last one. He choked on the hair on Mrs Doyle's mole. Nasty business, that."

 

[Barking]

Morrissey had not seen that particular Father Ted episode, and couldn't remember any, for the life of him. Plus, he resented people being cruel to animals, even if that particular priest was probably just engaging in molophilia when he had his asthma attack.
"- Well, he got what he deserved", he replied, with a self-satisfied smirk, as Father Dougal ran over a few polecats.

-Can I turn the radio on? I'd like to listen to old songs of mine.
-Whatever, replied the kind Messenger of God.

-Oh listen, it's me! he said, as Princess Diana's melodious but indifferent voice had a go at people who had not been nice to her.
-That's a song about the Queen, that, said Father D.
-Really? said Morrissey suspiciously. How do you know? Did you see what happened in that tunnel? WERE YOU THERE? he raised his voice nervously.
-Aye, nope, but that's public knowledge, that, said Father D, distractely running over Jake Walters, who was waving goodbye to Laika.
-Oh look! said Morrissey, all excited. They're shooting a remake of "Space Obesity"! Check ignition Laika! May dogs' love be with you! He screamed, with tears in his eyes, because he had a lot of love in him (for animals).