November 2014 -- 75 word writing challenge -- VICTORY TO PHYREBRAT!

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Well, Would You Believe It…

“Honest, I watched from the beanstalk – he had no clothes on! Him, a girl with some dwarves, another one with some bears, and an expectant goose were following a piper in a pumpkin coach.”

“Yeah, right!”

“What do you know? You’ve been asleep for 100 years.”

“Well but for that pea… Anyway, my granny with the big teeth says yesterday it was a cat wearing boots. It’ll probably be a wolf tomorrow!”

“A wolf? Hmm…”
 
Snow Blight

Happy flounced in, flicking a wren’s quill at his six patients:
Sleepy snored, oblivious to the red bloom on his face.
Bashful refused examination, and Sneezy had more than his cold to worry about.
‘She loved me!’ Dopey sobbed.
‘The slut!’ said Grumpy, rubbing a poultice on his crotch.
Happy scolded Doc. ‘You should’ve known better!’
‘I feel so…used,’ Doc replied, scratching himself.
Happy minced out, admiring his impeccable dress sense in the mirror.
 
Bootsy, the Three Wish Fairy


"IDIOT!!!"

"Bootsy."

"Whatever. For my first wish, I said, rid me of my enemies. You brought them here, shot them, and handed me the weapon. Then I wished them alive again. You made them into zombies! Moron."

"Bootsy. You didn't specify, silly."

"YOU, YOU FFffff...eh, Bootsy sweety.

"Yes."

"I wish you'd go to hell, forever."

"I don't know where that is."

"That's alright honey buns. I wish for more ammo."

"Oh-key doh-key."
 
Hooked

Wet tobacco slid down the spittoon's rim beside the captain's chair.

The captain twisted a hook coated in fresh blood from his stump and replaced it with a fork attachment.

Smee brought in a steaming crocodile steak. The captain glanced at the slimy, smashed clock on his table and smiled.

"Thank you Mr. Smee. Tell the men to have as much rum as they like."

In the corner of the cabin, Peter's vision faded.
 
Not Ugly, Just Different

"Ugly duckling!" they jeered. "Freak!"

It had been like that since the day they'd all hatched. He was bigger than his fellow nestlings and oddly feathered, but he still wanted to be loved by his mother.

"Shut up!" he flared. "You're not ducklings, either, just some kind of small waterfowl!" Then, using his legs, he pushed his noisy siblings out and watched them fall, one by one.

"And for the record, I'm a cuckoo!"
 
The Little Match Girl

She was so terribly cold.
Snow was falling.
Shivering and starving.
She didn’t dare go home.
Almost dead with cold.
‘Now someone is dying,’ she whispered; her breath frosting in the chill night air.
Hands shaking, she sparks a match that sputters, dying out.
Once more, huddled close, she sparks one more match, her last.
This one catches.
This one grows.
This one roars.
Now someone is dying she thought, smiling as flames rise up.
 
The 12 Months

Maroukla, the intern huddled in a corner watching.
The Vulture-Fund King pulled his sword from the heart of the Giant.
He threw the carcass onto the board table, scattering minions like meaningless memos
"Find me another!" he cried

Picking up his champagne he surveyed the Kingdom from his glass Tower
He took a sip, "Get me Strawberries!"
"But it's winter" Maroukla protested
"Then fly them in!" he growled, flinging his corporate card at her.
 
WITCH-EVER



‘Hold her, men. So, “Granny”. You’ll hang for all those children.’

‘Somehow, I’m relieved. So many years …’

‘Then tell me, why?’

‘All that sweetness, it became cloying.’

‘Sweetness? Of the little children?’

‘The gingerbread. And there was only one other thing to eat. Roasted to a turn, she was. Not tender, but the taste! One bite, we were hooked.’

‘We? There’s an accomplice?’

‘Was. Forgive me picking my teeth. My brother Hansel was very stringy.’
 
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Hickory Dickory . . . Duck

The rat ran up the clock.

The clock struck one.

“Duck!”

A blast ripped through the rat.

The rat dropped down in pieces, twitching.

“There’s too many of them!”

“Give me more ammo, woman.”

Rats poured out into the deserted streets, searching for food.

They followed the scent of blood.

The clock struck two.
 
Little Boy Blues


The old cow was up-station in the spacer's bar,
deep into the corn whiskey, hay in her hair.

"Ma'am? Your husband?
Horn player from "The Little Boy Blues Band"?
Any idea of his whereabouts?"

"Tol' 'em he can sleep with those girls, from now on!
Follow him like sheep, they do!"

"Sir! Hydroponics found them in the meadow,
dosed with laudanum. Under the haystack,
him and the girls together. They slept to death."
 
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Oh, Gradma, Grandma

"Grandma, why do you have such big ears?"
“So I can better hear who is the fairest in all the land!”
"Grandma, why do you have such big eyes?"
“So I can better see when the clock strikes midnight!”
"Grandma, why do you have such a big mouth?"
“So I can better huff, and puff, and blow your house down!”

“Mom, I think grandma confused her meds again, can dad come take her to hospital?”
 
Well, Well, Well

"His hands are freezing. And wet."

"So?"

"He swallows food whole. He gulps."

"Yet he returned your-"

"Don't mention that wretched bauble. He stinks, grand-mere. Like pond slime."

"Nonetheless-"

"There are teeth all over his mouth. When he kisses me... Look."

"A touch of powder. No one will notice."

"I can't bear it. He might live for years."

"Frogs do, ma petite. You brought this on yourself."

"How?"

"The kiss. You should have meant it."
 
Meet Percival, a Prince with a problem. He wanted a wife, but finding a proper Princess was proving impossible.

Pounding rain, a pounding door, is this the Princess he’s looking for? A hidden pea would test her pedigree.

Atop a mound of unmanageable mattresses, she sought sleep.

Waking black and blue, she stared pointedly at the Prince. “Of course I’m a Princess you pinhead, no more legumes in the bedroom!”
 
One Hundred Years of Snoring

Oh I am sooooo bored! Booooorrrrreeed! What’s in here? Boring! What about here? Oh hello old maid, what are you doing? Spinning! What is that? What is for? Why are you doing it? Let me try! I will try if I want to! I am not so being such a princess!! Let me try! NOW!! So, is this right? Bother! That hurts! …. Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz …............ zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz ……………………… zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz ……………………….. zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz ……………………….. zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz ………………….
 
Sweet Treats Lead To Bitter Meets

Gretel and Hansel took a walk to the wild side of town.

Rumour had it there was a witch-bitch there that sold the sweetest stuff.

Imagine their surprise to discover it was literally sugary confections, candy and gingerbread!

Murderous rage overtook the twins who stuffed the old lady into her own oven.

Malevolent and evil they were described in court, the evidence more than enough to condemn the homicidal duo to the chair.
 
Sisters

“You made her scrub and clean for you.”

“No, we insisted she do her share of the chores.”

“You didn’t let her go to the ball.”

“She’s only seventeen. Not allowed to drink or even enter the venue.”

“You tried to stop her marrying the Prince!”

“And have her life all over the media? With someone she met once?”

“You’re ugly.”

“Ah, yes, there. I suppose we are guilty of that. It’s a life sentence.”
 
Mal Voyáge

“Still no sight of Land.”

“Of course not. This tub can’t make two knots in a tailwind, paddled by a wretched pair of Candlesticks.”

“Look, a Fish. We can eat.”

“Enough with fish, I thought you were a bloody Butcher. I fancy a Steak and maybe… a Crusty Baguette?”

“Well, this barrel hasn’t an oven. Flapjack?”

A sad excuse for a Luxury Cruise, this. Advertised as “Fits for a King” and I drew Three Knaves.
 

The Valiant Little Tailor


“…guilty of manslaughter.”

The jury had ignored how he’d always used his telekinetic powers for good. It wasn’t as if the incident was his fault.


That fateful day, he’d been at a reception honouring his good works. Suddenly, his face had felt odd; one arm had become limp. He’d tried to speak, but his words were slurred. People’s heads had started to explode.

He’d soon recovered but, with that one stroke, he’d killed seven men.

 
Trevor Takes a Trip


“Tracey’ll be so mad,” Trevor muttered as he trudged home, muddy water squelching in his boots. “There’s nothing for dinner.”

He rubbed his backside. “That’s gonna hurt in the morning, as well.”

“Can’t believe,” he kicked aimlessly at a squirrel that loped across the path, "I fell for it."

His voice adopted a bleating tone, “Meeh, wait for my brother, he’s fatter than me.”

“Lying little kids, the both of ‘em. ”
 
Grimdark Fairy Tales: A Game of Dwarfs

Prince Bean lost his head when he broke the Magic Mirror.

Grumpy fell from a high window.
Sleepy never woke up.
Happy hanged himself.
Bashful had his head bashed in.
Dopey tripped and ended up down a well.
Sneezy caught cold. And died.
Doc overdosed on milk of poppy.

Snow White ate a poisoned apple.

And the Evil Queen? She lived happily ever after.
 
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