Six-Word Stories #30 (Collecting)

Collectivist collectors collectively collected collectable collections.


© Grumpy Axolotl

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Where Pegman Crashed. North Pole, Alaska

Santa-peg turned his back on the Cessna-sleigh-plane wreck. Insurance would cover the sleigh but rounding up the reindeer was going to play hell with his schedule. Why had he installed that newfangled SatNav contraption?: The reindeer would never have picked the wrong North Pole. Right now, he needed to wet his beard and — by golly — this was the spot to do it. What a stroke of luck to crash right outside a public house. But what sort of luck?: He hadn’t even reached the bar when he saw them – A consortium of WordPressers clustered around the corner-table sipping ale whilst trading posts. He turned to leave, but it was too late “Look, it’s Santa-peg” a woman shouted. Drat. He couldn’t make a bolt without the reindeer nor let his fans down in good conscience. With a grin he bellowed “Merry Christmas. Ho-ho-ho – Do I have some prompts for you!”.


© Grumpy Axolotl
Image : Google Streetview
Written for What Pegman Saw

FFfAW – Terryfied

Obstinate. The dinosaur stubbornly refused to budge. Writer’s block. Terry threw his pen down in disgust. His task was simple:150 words, more or less, of fiction inspired by whichever museum exhibit struck his fancy – in this case, a dinosaur skeleton. Obvious enough, or perhaps a bit too obvious…cliché: The dinosaur must come to life – Spring to life and go on the rampage! Terry imagined the other patrons dropping their jaws and coffee-cups; staring bug-eyed, transfixed; peeing their pants as the creature before them grew flesh and reanimated; a mass of humanity screaming; stampeding in blind panic and unbridled terror; smashing priceless antique vases, paintings and curios in a desperate scramble to escape from an equally terrified and rather bewildered reptile; causing more injury to themselves and each other than the dinosaur ever would. Terry could imagine the blood on the floors and walls. Hapless fools slipping in the mess, knocking themselves unconscious. 

If only the dinosaur could come to life. 

And then it did.


© Grumpy Axolotl

Word count 168

Photo: Yinglan Z

Written for:  https://flashfictionforaspiringwriters.wordpress.com/2017/12/18/fffaw-challenge-week-of-december-19-2017

What Pegman heard: Buckhorn, Iowa

Nora was pretty pissed to have been buried next to Violet. She had supposed that the grave was one place she would finally get some peace and quiet. But no! She’d been interred next to the one bitch who just wouldn’t shut the fuck up. At least she got to hear the gossip: John was three holes over and he wasn’t too pleased with the trees. His plot was shaded all summer and the root growing through his ear was threatening to tear his skull asunder. Margaret, the newcomer, was constantly bemoaning the worms that kept her awake with their incessant gnawing and wriggling. And David … He was actually getting a decent rest, while somehow still managing to snore like a rhino. James recounted his war-stories ad-nauseum.

Trembling, Pegman stood up. Never again would he put a stethoscope to the earth.


© Grumpy Axolotl
Written for What Pegman Saw
Image: Google Streetview

Last Tango in Córdoba

Pegman would have loved to have seen Gato Barbieri. R.I.P. Here is what he actually saw:

Holla! Pegman saw those that saw straight back at him and a vicious – yet ultimately pointless – pointing contest between Peg and faceless working-class-locals erupted and spilled out onto the streets. By the time the dust cleared and order had been restored, many holes had been poked in the air, much Spanish spoken and much Tequila dispensed. The flamenco player put aside his hand-crafted guitar as the tap-dancers dispersed (one complaining bitterly of corns). A cat watching from a windowsill yawned, scratched behind one ear, and went back to sleep.


© Grumpy Axolotl.
Written for What Pegman Saw
Image: Google StreetView

Pegman does Norfolk-Naturism

On an island like this, you just have to be naked. No seriously, you really have to be. Be one with nature. Spread your wings beneath the blue sky with its golden orb and fluffy white floaty things. Bound through the meadow, leap over the stream, dash from hillock to hillock, bush to bush, tree to … wait … Is that a thorn tree? Well, maybe a raincoat then, in case it rains and you run into a thorn tree, or a bee-hive. (2nd week running, angry bees have made it into my story – make note to discuss with therapist). Right then: naked underneath a raincoat and a bee-keepers veil, although bees don’t fly in the rain – so on the other hand…. Aaaaaaaargh! There are no axolotls on this island anyway, grumpy or otherwise, and whose idea was it to erect that damnable fence and cut the fucking grass? Bah!


© Grumpy Axolotl.
Written for What Pegman Saw
Image: Google StreetView

Pumpkin-Salami (Your Halloween Horror Story)

Author’s note: This story contains sexual material that some readers may consider offensive.


The pumpkins were particularly large this year. It was going to be a bumper crop. Amanda wished she could lop off her own head and replace it with one of the over-sized pumpkins, She would scare the bitches in her frat-house stupid. Especially that cunt Sally. Suddenly, Amanda had an idea. Why hadn’t she thought of it before? She was going to enjoy the Halloween party.
***
On the other side of town, Amanda’s brother Jim stood naked in front on his open refrigerator, He had a stiffy, and a good one at that. But it wasn’t enough. Jim’s penis wasn’t small, but he wished it were bigger. Staring into the fridge, he envied the salami lying on the bottom shelf; it was fat and long, as he wished his penis were. He wished he could just lop off his cock and replace it with the salami. That would scare the girls in the downstairs apartment shitless, before he drove it into their split-peaches. ha ha ha! Pumping. Thrusting. “Take that bitches” he would yell as he drilled them. He was stroking his swollen joystick but stopped abruptly when a thought struck him. He was going to enjoy the Halloween party.
***
Amanda worked the knife with a passion, but fuck!, hollowing out a pumpkin was hard work, and these were monsters. Still, it would be worth it. Ha ha ha ha. She was carving a jack-o-lantern but the hole was at the base instead of the top.
***
Jim decided to forgo a condom and plunged his cock straight into the recess he had made in one end of the salami. It was cold and gross but his erection grew stronger none-the-less and made the salami hold fast. But he knew he couldn’t keep it up all night, so he fashioned a rude belt from a length of twine that would hold the salami in place during the times his penis was flaccid. Standing in front of a mirror, he felt a surge of power as he admired his handiwork: His huge ‘erection’. Oh yeah baby! Ha ha ha ha.
***
The evening star was already in the sky when Jim arrived at Amanda’s house. He got one hell of a fright when she opened the door. It looked like Amanda’s head was a giant pumpkin. And it was. Sort of. “how do you like the costume” Amanda said from inside the pumpkin mask. “Freaky” replied Jim. “Looks like you could give some mean head with that thing on.”

“Don’t be naughty” Amanda laughed. “Hey, where’s your costume?”  

“you’ll see” replied Jim. “You’ll see. Come on. Hey let’s cut across the pumpkin patch on the edge of town. I haven’t been that way in years”

“Well, bugger me backwards with a black-market vegetable; These pumpkins are fuckin’ monsters'” Exclaimed Jim. “Tell me about it. Where do you think I got this one from?” Amanda answered, sitting herself down on one of the boulder-sized vegetables “So brother. I haven’t seen your costume yet. Any chance it has something to do with the rather obvious bulge in your crotch?”.

“Funny you should ask” said Jim unzipping his pants. “Behold!” he shouted. “These pumpkins aren’t the only monsters in town tonight” His Salami stood up proud in front of him as his pants fell to the ground. He stepped out of them and ripped off his underwear too. Soon he was dancing pantless in the pumpkin patch, his balls and salami bouncing up and down as Amanda laughed so hard it was a struggle not to wet herself. 

“Wow that’s the biggest one I’ve ever seen. What a pity it isn’t real” Amanda said between laughs.

“Ah but does it scare you, my dear?” taunted Jim 

“Surely does. Even with my giant head”

“Speaking of which, I believe my wanger is big enough for your slutty pumpkin mouth” Jim laughed. Without another word he pranced over to where Amanda sat and pushed the end of his salami through the gaping maw of his sister’s pumpkin mask.

“Cmon. Give me pumpkin-head” he laughed.

“Augh, Jim you devil!” She screeched. “That thing is so gross!”

“How about I take it off then” He said quietly “And you can remove your mask. We’ll still have plenty of time to make the party.”

“Fuck off Jim. I’m your sister”

“Yes. And you’ve always wanted to do this”

She looked at Jim silently for a long moment.

“It’s wrong” she whispered. Her cheeks were flushed and she was breathing heavily. The pumpkins appeared to be glowing gently.

“You want it though”

Amanda could feel herself tremble. An intense primitive urge, the likes oh which she had never known before was burning inside of her. Her chest felt tight and there was a lump in her throat.

“Yes”

“Stop right there!” Crowed a haggard voice from the pumpkin patch. Jim and Amanda suddenly lost all interest in each other and and spun around, to see a woman in a witches costume slowly making her way towards them. It was a well-done costume, with all the witchy-trappings: pointy-hat, magic-broomstick with a live black cat. It was a little unnerving that she appeared to be gliding above the ground. Jim figured she must have a motorised dolly beneath her skirt, though if there were, it was silent. “Well, well, well” the witch said slowly. “if it isn’t the old blow-your-brother-in-the-pumpkin-patch routine. You wouldn’t believe how many times …”

“This is none of your fucking business” Amanda snapped

“No.” Said the witch. “Doesn’t bother me if you fuck your brother. But you are trespassing on a witches pumpkin-patch on Halloween. I do care about that, and it most certainly is my business” 

“Cut the crap bitch” said Jim. “You’re just some stupid slut dressed up in a costume. Fuck off before we stuff one of these pumpkins up your cunt”

The witch sighed. “You know, the costume is ridiculous, but I have to wear it on Halloween, it’s traditional. Here, let me show you another tradition”. The witch pointed her finger at one of the pumpkins. Her finger appeared to glow purple for a moment and then the pumpkin exploded in a ball of smoke, throwing orange chunks of vegetable flesh in all directions. The smoke cleared and then, where the pumpkin had been, sat a rather bewildered looking frog. “Yep the classic turn-em-into-a-toad routine” cackled the witch. “Forgive my self-indulgence but that one never grows old. Now, are you believing yet?” Jim’s jaw and salami both hung loosely while Amanda sat motionless, piss running freely between her legs spoiling her dress and the pumpkin she sat upon. The cat scratched it’s neck with a hind leg. Jim noticed for the first time that they were completely surrounded by pumpkins. Whatever path they had walked here had vanished. The pumpkins nearest them were merely rocks and boulders, but those further away were as big as houses. Beyond that dark shapes the size of mountains were faintly discernible through an orange mist. “No where to run” spoke the witch matter-of-factly. The cat had discovered a mouse and was now carefully dissecting it at Amanda’s feet.

“Time’s a wasting” said the witch. “Let’s get on with a curse, so I can get home in time to watch ‘the-money or the cauldron’. Amanda, that pumpkin head is becoming to you, so now you are becoming the pumpkin”. Amanda gasped as she felt her head and the pumpkin fuse together. The pumpkins eyes were now her eyes and the pumpkin mouth was now her mouth. She screamed. Really loud. “Yeah, it’s a bit weird at first, but you’ll get used to it soon enough” said the witch. “Now Jim, same idea for you. ‘Hocus-pocus, salami-focus.’ Jim’s penis was now the size (and colour) of the salami he had been wearing. His erection swelled again and soon raged like that of a stallion. “Fuckin awesome” He shouted, breaking into a stupid grin. “Right, follow me” said the witch. “I’ve made a place for you two” There was no apparent alternative so they followed the witch into the depths of the patch, treading a path they had never seen before. Small jack-o-lanterns on tiny legs scurried along in front and behind lighting the way. One squealed when the cat pounced on it. “Behave yourself” snapped the witch. She flicked her hand as if swatting an insect and a small broom materialised in mid-air swatting the cat off of the poor little lantern. The indignant lantern made a rude gesture at the cat before rejoining the caravan. They soon came to a house made from a gigantic jack-o-lantern. The mouth served as an entryway and the witch motioned that they should enter. “Make yourself comfortable my dears. That cock is the perfect size for that mouth so get sucking. You’ll be doing it every night for all eternity. Have fun”. And with that the witch was gone. There was no furniture, but the pumpkin floor was surprisingly comfortable so they laid down on the floor and hugged each other. Trying to make sense of what had happened. “This is a dream, right?” Said Jim. They knew it wasn’t. Soon it was full dark and they could see a full-moon through one of the lantern’s eye-holes. “It’s blue” whispered Amanda. “How beautiful”. Soon, Jim felt his sister taking his giant penis into her giant pumpkin mouth, for real this time, teasing him with her tongue. They locked eyes for a second and then gave in to their cursed love.

“Fucking perverts” muttered the witch. She covered her crystal-ball with a cloth and went to bed.


© Grumpy Axolotl

The Thing

There was once, like, this thing, y’ know and it was like … This thing. So it’s a little bit like that but not so much like that other one. Y’know the one I’m talkin about. It was just like that man, but not exactly, and y’ gotta believe it. I saw it. Y’ know what I’m saying man … Because some things are different. What I mean to say is is that this thing was different from the other thing. So they can’t have been the same thing man. Y known what I’m sayin? This thing man, it must have been something else. I reckon it was the thing. Roger nodded in agreement, and replied, Yeah I’ve seen that thing. It’s like, totally dope man.


© Grumpy Axolotl

Cacophony

Laura loves to sing. Loud. And she doesn’t just imitate; she assimilates; she innovates. Her creativity knows no bounds. Emboldened by the finest of wines, swollen with the joy of life, she bursts forth in rapturous melody, remoulding the choicest morsels of the canon into scales known only to herself.


© Grumpy Axolotl
Cacophony