Sack of Potatoes
“Thank God Spring is here!” Mark exclaimed.
“Why are you so ecstatic?” Jeremy asked
“Because Lacy hypnotized me into wearing so many layers of clothing that I’ve been feeling like a sack of potatoes for a while now.”
“Hoping to be peeled, are you?”
“Something like that.”
He could have lived without the knife though.
Spring is here and I can’t wait for some warm weather. I sleep better during Winter but hate having to wear so many clothes to feel warm. Just like Mark, I tend to feel like a sack of potatoes even without the hypnosis. I wrote this one with such thoughts in mind and then the punchline became something… dark. However, play can assume many forms so…
Literal
“BILL!” Natasha screamed.
“Yes, dear?” He rushed to her.
“What is this mess in the kitchen? Didn’t I tell you to do the dishes?”
“You did,” he nodded. “Over and over again. You hammered my mind with suggestions, subliminals and whatnot but…”
“But what?”
“I’m not good with pottery,” he shrugged, hands covered in clay.
Hypnotic suggestions come in many shapes and styles. They can be direct, indirect, overt, covert, and so many different things in-between. How one responds to them is also a variable and, sometimes, suggestions backfire, or aren’t properly assimilated, leading to strange results. I wrote this piece thinking of all those things and ended up with a literal take on things. The kitchen may be messy right now but at least the writing was funny, wasn’t it? I hope you enjoyed this one.
Taste for Fashion
“There once was a lovely English girl with a taste for fashion…” Amanda said.
“Did she eat dresses and purses?” Nathan grinned.
“No. She loved wearing high heels and nothing else though.”
“Hot! Name, please!”
“Natalia, but she likes to be called Nathan for fun.”
“Shit!”
Amanda snapped her fingers and his fashion show began.
I was having some trouble coming up with an idea for today’s entry so I asked for suggestions. My friend Milo, a.k.a. the author Lloyd W. Fredericton suggested “a lovely English girl with a taste for fashion” after showing me some Instagram pics and I literally went with it given I wrote about literal stuff yesterday too. Another little bit of humor for you all because laughing is a good thing.
Release
“Well?” Lauren asked.
“The patient’s neural pathways continue to deteriorate…” Dr. Walters replied. “He has no memories or sense of self anymore.”
“Wonderful,” she said, with a malicious grin.
“Excuse me?”
“We’re missing a slave for tonight’s auction. He’ll do nicely.”
“But…”
“Shall I make it two, Dr.?”
He gulped and signed the discharge form.
After several days writing funny punchlines, a change of page was in order and this was the first idea that came to me. I can’t really explain the genesis of it but, seeing I’m not particularly fond of hospitals that may have been responsible for the overall setting at least. Although there’s no explicit mind-control reference in this one, there are indirect hints as the state of the patient can be construed as unnatural from the get-go. The result is something dark, and something scary. It’s a good thing it’s just fiction, right?