Category: writing


A dimly lit Taco Bell.

GERALD

What kind of Christmas tacos do you have?

 

CLERK

Christmas what?

 

GERALD

You know, pine tree pollo, eggnog asada? What flavors?

 

CLERK
I’m gonna barf.

(runs off)

 

GERALD
Bastards! I know a war on Christmas when I see one!

 

CURTAIN

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A dimly lit Taco Bell.

ALEX
Wrapped in a thick flour shell it includes ground beef and sour cream.

 

CLERK

What’s your order?

 

ALEX

Yes, in the form of a question.

 

CLERK
Are you okay, homes?

 

ALEX

Time’s up. We were looking for ‘What is a chalupa?’

 

CLERK
I’m getting security.

A dimly lit Taco Bell.

 

KETTLEBAUM

You seen any suspicious tacos ‘round here?

LISETTE
We don’t serve no other kind.

KETTLEBAUM
(flashes photo)

I’m looking for a special loser.

LISETTE
(gasps)

Felipe! I ain’t seen that taco since the Quincy riots. Tell me he’s okay!

KETTLEBAUM

None of us is okay, lady. None of us.

CURTAIN

 

margarita who She was the woman who drank margaritas. Whether it was mid-morning or early afternoon or that dreary, gray hour sometime just before dinnertime in late September, she could be found with a frosty margarita in hand.

She didn’t let anyone get to her when it came to the recurrent margarita commentary. The sardonic comments from those who would appoint themselves the margarita police. The risk of margarita-shaming was just part of the hand you were dealt when you were the woman who drank margaritas.

Continued: https://proof.media/the-woman-who-drank-margaritas

The Dornstadt home. A storm rages outside.

HELGA

You have brought the chicken cupcakes?

 

HORST

Why would I bring cupcakes to a chicken?

 

HELGA

No, the chicken-flavored cupcakes, numb brain.

 

HORST

Oh, they were sold out.

 

HELGA
Always. Always they are sold out.

 

CURTAIN

The Punk Pumpkin was the angriest pumpkin in the entire patch. He was constantly making efforts to cause mayhem and disruption, ruining the peaceful and otherwise sedate lives of the general run of pumpkins in the patch.  Continued: https://bit.ly/2EeQdne

Punk Pumpkin

Therese throws down a large steak knife.

 

THERESE

(tearful)

Why do you stare at me so, Alphonse?

 

ALPHONSE

It’s just as my father always said.

 

THERESE

Machine wash warm?

 

ALPHONSE
Never love a pumpkin hater.

 

Alphonse takes his pumpkin away.

 

CURTAIN

Lisette plays with a cracked baby doll.

NANNY

(sternly)

I have bad news, Lisette.

 

LISETTE
Is it about my dead hamster?

NANNY

(tauntingly)

I will no longer ready you those Pippi Longstocking tales.

LISETTE
(stares out the window)

It is all coming true.

 

CURTAIN

She was dancing to the rhythm of the cat

But then one day had a sudden realization that cats have no particular rhythm

And they’re not known for dancing in general

Which transformed her dancing to a hollow charade

A mangled false tribute to a mammalian carnival that didn’t even exist

A misguided, poorly conceived cross-species shadow saturnalia

Making a mockery of her own purported feline expertise

Implicating participation in a perversion of cat values

A misinterpretation that called into question her previous cat culture efforts

And so the dancing stopped before her catness damage was unsalvageable

And instead she stood in the garden by the rows of celery.

And it came to pass that the Coffee God came to a strange foreign land and this land was known to those who dwelt there as the Hazelnut Valley. And in this land the people did walk and sing beneath strange trees, called the tree of the hazelnut. And the nut of this tree they did pick and verily place the nectar from this nut in the mugs of their coffee. And they mixed the nut nectar with the coffee and would quaff this beverage on a regular basis in great quantities and were very satisfied and pleased with themselves thereby, and they did have a great amount of pleased talk about this ‘hazelnut coffee.’

Continued: https://bit.ly/2MILMop

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