| Humor Fiction posted July 9, 2023 |
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Revenge Story contests entry
The Pig's Return
by DragonSkulls
Many years have passed since I was a little pig. I simply had to leave back then, I couldn't take it any more. My two brother's were lazy imbeciles and Mother wanted us to go out and seek our own fortunes. That's exactly what I did. It turns out that 'hit-hogs' are very much in demand in the nursery rhyme, slash, story world.
I could go into great detail about numerous icons I've offed. Here's a for instance. There was an old woman who lived in a shoe. Her children requested the service I do. There's money in leather, soles and the lace. There was an old woman I shot in the face.
It's always for money or revenge. Humpty Dumpty paid a healthy invoice for me to kill all the king's horses. Like they could have put his fat ass back together again. Come on, they have hooves. You're a friggin' egg. That's just plain crazy. I took his money though, and killed all the king's horses that day. The king's men were also on his list but he'd have to sell a whole lot more organ seeping omelets to get that kind of cash.
I actually had to give a client his money back one time. It turns out no matter how many times you shoot a 'wooden' boy, he just won't die. His nose ended up being like eight foot long because he kept repeatedly yelling, "You're wrong, my father loves me!"
I'll admit, this account was a mystery. Why they hired me, I'll never know. They have massive, razor sharp claws and jaws that can crush bones into powder but no, they wanted me to kill their Goldilocks because that fat bitch kept eating all their porridge that falls in the 'just right' category.
Here's one where a certain someone started getting into the hip hop music scene.
Mary had a little jam
some rappers found a threat.
For sixty grand I offed her ass,
then ate her little pet.
Fi'ty Cent said, "Damn, you're cold."
"That's right, that's who I am,"
while splashing hot Tabasco sauce
on Mary's little lamb.
That's neither here nor there though. Last week, someone contacted me for a hit. This time it was someone from my past. It turns out the big, bad wolf ate some little girl's grandma, put on her clothes, got in her bed and had the gall to pretend to be her. All so he could simply eat the little girl in red. I would think by the time your questions got up to how big your grandma's pointy teeth were, you'd have figured out that this wolf wasn't actually your grandma, but hey, I wasn't there.
Seeing as how the woman still had a bed to get into, clearly the wolf didn't blow her house down. Or maybe she had enough brains to build it with something other than straw or sticks like my imbecile brothers.
That's what leads me to here. Even though I told my youngest brother, Frank, over and over to build his house out of something sturdy, the wolf blew his last house, made out of yarn nonetheless, down. I never went back for revenge. In that case, stupidity was fatal. I left all that in the past. But this time someone's offering me enough for a new yacht to off that murdering wolf. Payday and revenge. I was in.
I broke into his place around three a.m. I just stared at him while he was sleeping then kicked the edge of the bed so he'd wake up. He instantly sat up and growled at me, "Little pig, little pig, what's this about?" He huffed and he puffed, then I blew his brains out.
Best Served Cold writing prompt entry
Many years have passed since I was a little pig. I simply had to leave back then, I couldn't take it any more. My two brother's were lazy imbeciles and Mother wanted us to go out and seek our own fortunes. That's exactly what I did. It turns out that 'hit-hogs' are very much in demand in the nursery rhyme, slash, story world.
I could go into great detail about numerous icons I've offed. Here's a for instance. There was an old woman who lived in a shoe. Her children requested the service I do. There's money in leather, soles and the lace. There was an old woman I shot in the face.
It's always for money or revenge. Humpty Dumpty paid a healthy invoice for me to kill all the king's horses. Like they could have put his fat ass back together again. Come on, they have hooves. You're a friggin' egg. That's just plain crazy. I took his money though, and killed all the king's horses that day. The king's men were also on his list but he'd have to sell a whole lot more organ seeping omelets to get that kind of cash.
I actually had to give a client his money back one time. It turns out no matter how many times you shoot a 'wooden' boy, he just won't die. His nose ended up being like eight foot long because he kept repeatedly yelling, "You're wrong, my father loves me!"
I'll admit, this account was a mystery. Why they hired me, I'll never know. They have massive, razor sharp claws and jaws that can crush bones into powder but no, they wanted me to kill their Goldilocks because that fat bitch kept eating all their porridge that falls in the 'just right' category.
Here's one where a certain someone started getting into the hip hop music scene.
Mary had a little jam
some rappers found a threat.
For sixty grand I offed her ass,
then ate her little pet.
Fi'ty Cent said, "Damn, you're cold."
"That's right, that's who I am,"
while splashing hot Tabasco sauce
on Mary's little lamb.
That's neither here nor there though. Last week, someone contacted me for a hit. This time it was someone from my past. It turns out the big, bad wolf ate some little girl's grandma, put on her clothes, got in her bed and had the gall to pretend to be her. All so he could simply eat the little girl in red. I would think by the time your questions got up to how big your grandma's pointy teeth were, you'd have figured out that this wolf wasn't actually your grandma, but hey, I wasn't there.
Seeing as how the woman still had a bed to get into, clearly the wolf didn't blow her house down. Or maybe she had enough brains to build it with something other than straw or sticks like my imbecile brothers.
That's what leads me to here. Even though I told my youngest brother, Frank, over and over to build his house out of something sturdy, the wolf blew his last house, made out of yarn nonetheless, down. I never went back for revenge. In that case, stupidity was fatal. I left all that in the past. But this time someone's offering me enough for a new yacht to off that murdering wolf. Payday and revenge. I was in.
I broke into his place around three a.m. I just stared at him while he was sleeping then kicked the edge of the bed so he'd wake up. He instantly sat up and growled at me, "Little pig, little pig, what's this about?" He huffed and he puffed, then I blew his brains out.
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Writing Prompt Write a flash fiction tale of REVENGE. Maximum 800 words. This can be in any genre and can range from a light-hearted prank to a murderous act of vengeance. Clever twists and irony encouraged. |
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