Six Word Stories Omnibus: Volume Five

Time for more six word stories.
They were all written by you,
our dear readers. Oh my, yes!
We’ve finally posted them right here,
so don’t throat punch us, okay?
Such a long time to wait!

Story 1:
Six words can’t tell a story. 
Story 2:
What’s more, there isn’t enough substance.
by Sheldon Kleeman

Story 3:
Clever! Thanks for making me laugh.
by Daal Praderas

Story 4:
There IS peace in love… Amen!
by Rjoherman

Story 5:
I have a single porpoise tooth.
Story 6:
Tuna Safe Dolphin Meat is good.
Story 7:
“Please kill me,” my clone whispered.
Story 8:
I think these pills work fast.
Story 9:
My umbilical noose is too tight.
by Epic Fantasy

Story 10:
Sharks are nice. Hey, my arm!
by Phoenix Risen Poetry

Story 11:
Phew, what an interesting looking blog!
by Andy Smart

Story 12:
Love tried to take me alive.
by Kelly in ya Belly

Story 13:
“Where in Hell?” “Yes, you are.”
by Malakki

Story 14:
“Please don’t go.” “Don’t let me.”
Story 15:
She was a killer without heels.
Story 16:
The heart untied the mind’s knot.
by Nandita Yata

Story 17:
If you die then you’re mine.
by Dom

Story 18:
Give me a break. I’m dying.
Story 19:
Can’t you see? I am dead.
by Taizo

Story 20:
Am I a burden to reply?
by Lauren

by TETIANA ALEKSINA & TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2016

Spam Sarnie #3

In 1937, long before either of us existed, spam was born. That predates the internet, kids. The freakin’ INTERNET! And instead of reading spam, people would eat it. The horror!

Still, that’s not as bad as what took place in 1965. Somewhere in a movie studio in Japan, a can of refrigerated spam was hit by a downed Soviet bomber, setting off a nuclear explosion which in turn caused Spamera to be born.

Spamera didn’t have an easy time growing up. He was both a bully and the bullied. Any time he used his immense turtle shell to crush his enemies, it only served to sink him into a deeper depression. He was a pacifist by nature but everyone wanted him to be mean because he looked mean. Talk about messed up!

It’s much like the spam that clogs our inbox on a daily basis. Messed up! Still, we try to be civil and answer it all. Well, sometimes we’re not so civil…

It is the best time to make some plans for the long run and it is time to be happy. I have learn this submit and if I may I wish to suggest you few fascinating issues or advice. Perhaps you could write subsequent articles referring to this article. I wish to read even more things about it!
– Kiersten

Of course, Kiersten! We’re renowned experts in the field of ‘how to be happy for the really long run’. Unfortunately, the funeral guys took our pen and diary away. So we died. Damn.
– So Freaking Over the Moon League

I have not checked in here for some time since I thought it was getting boring, but the last few posts are good quality so I guess I will add you back to my daily bloglist. You deserve it friend 🙂
– ydxsnsx

God. We’re so relieved. We were on the verge of shutting the blog down! Hell, we would’ve faded away to nothing had you decided not to come back and grace us with your magnificent magnanimosity of magisterial proportions. Truly, you are a king/queen/thing among… erm, other things!
– Your Groveling Sycophants of Pathetic Needy-Weediness League

Her work frequently appears on many Internet sites and on her own organizing site Clutter Free Living as well as in her monthly Home Organizing Newsletter How to Be Clutter Free
– ttkdqqlx

Yet how strangely cluttered your sentences and username are. Erm. Is that you, Tati?! Is there something you need to tell me? Am I taking up too much space here?
– The Something Something Fill-it-up-With-Anything League

I see your page needs some fresh content. Writing manually is time consuming, there is tool for this task. Just search in gogle for; Fejlando’s tips
– AshleighSecc

Oh my god. For a moment there I read this as ‘Fellatio’s tips’.
– The Just Putting That Out There League

by TETIANA ALEKSINA & TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2016

Tati Unbolted (An Interview)

TONY SINGLE: Tell us a little bit about yourself?

TETIANA ALEKSINA: Next question please. Can you ask something more important?

TONY: Of course. Have you ever been tipped by a cow?

TETIANA: No. But I have been licked by a ram.

TONY: Really?

TETIANA: Yep. I was very little. An infant. My parents carried me in a pram past a farm. And I… hmmm… well, I pooed. My mum laid me on the grass and started to fiddle with dirty diapers. And a ram walked to me and sniffed me. And then started to lick me. When my mother saw this, she was shocked and frightened. But I laughed. It’s pretty ticklish when a ram licks your bare ass, you know.

TONY: Exciting! What do you want to be when you grow up?

TETIANA: A child.

TONY: Are you a group person or a loner?

TETIANA: A loner, without doubts. Life often pushes me ahead and forces me to be a leader. I have to do this, but reluctantly.

TONY: How would your friends describe you?

TETIANA: “You’re on the way to becoming an alien being.”

TONY: What made you decide to learn English?

TETIANA: What made you ask such a silly question? About 55% sites on the internet in English. About 30% of the world population speak English. It’s a chance to reach and to be reached. To hear and to be heard. It’s a chance to connect with the world. Well… the main reason, honestly? English is much more easy than Chinese.

TONY: You get to travel anywhere. Where and why?

TETIANA: There’s nothing more marvelous, frightening and tantalising than your inner Universe. Are you brave enough to meet the real you?

TONY: What’s the strangest thing you’ve ever eaten?

TETIANA: Many of our traditional recipes can look weird or even shocking for foreigners. Kangaroo balls.

TONY: Tish pshaw! Not a big deal. I eat those every day.

TETIANA: Russian Blood Candy. I eat those often.

TONY: What the fuck?!

TETIANA: So, what do you call ‘strange’?

TONY: Something that looks totally weird and not at all edible.

TETIANA: I think every child ate such things. I loved to chew paper.

TONY: Tell us the last joke you heard?

TETIANA: “I know an ideal solution.” I laughed so hard. Though, I suppose, I was the only one who found this statement funny… One of my colleagues said this.

TONY: You’re God for a day. What do you do?

TETIANA: I abolish the job description, ‘God’.

TONY: Is it better to die or to live for eternity?

TETIANA: Well.. death looks like an egotistical choice, an alibi for doing nothing. You can change nothing when you are dead. “Well, guys, I’m dead, what do you want from me, bastards? I’m busy. I feed worms…”

Honestly? I would prefer to live. I would prefer to live and do my fucking best. I would prefer to change this old rotten world instead of rot on my own.

TONY: Why do you write?

TETIANA: It’s my way to keep my sanity and not roll into the deep. Kinda my safety valve, yeah?

TONY: Do you have a favourite book?

TETIANA: Yes, I have. It’s the book you and I are writing now.

by TETIANA ALEKSINA & TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2016

Teti-à-Tête (With Tony) #5

crumble-cult-210

Tati as TATI

crumble-cult-106

Tony as TONY

YOU’RE HOT, BUT PLEASE
DON’T PISS ON ME

Morning was never going to just light up the room and leave it at that. Of course not. It was always going to lance between the curtains like a sexual predator and violate her right where she lay. Like it had every other morning of her life. God.

Tati tilted her head off the pillow. She squinted at the fuzzy-edged glare floating at the foot of her bed. She hated that window. It was in the wrong place. It looked like a white supremacist. Her head plopped back.

I’d better get up.

The birds seemed to agree. Chirp! Bloody chirp!

Maybe later.

“Tati.”

Okay, now they’re calling me. A bit odd that.

“Tati?”

Hell! How do they even know my name?

“Tati!”

Oh, please fuck off, birds.

“TATI!”

She imagined them with zippers on their beaks. If only.

“TETIANA!”

“WHAT?!”

An orifice formed in the wall to her right, and disgorged a human-sized blob. With something approaching vague alarm, Tati swiveled her head. Oh. It was a door. Oh. A human.

“I’m sorry, your Highness. Have I inconvenienced you by entering here? This room made holy by the mere presence of your sacrosanct self? And does my existence diminish—nay, blight—your exalted self in some inexpiable and unfortunate way?”

She grimaced. “Shut up.”

“Forgive me. Is it that time of the month again?”

Bolt upright now, a fiery Tati jabbed an accusing finger in the human’s general direction. “Oh my god, Tony! How many times should I repeat that ‘that time of the month’ doesn’t affect mood?!”

Tati’s blanket had fallen away. Oblivious to the fact that she was now topless, she swung her legs right and planted both feet on the floor. It was too early to be dealing with his shit.

Tony plucked his eyes from the dust where they’d fallen and polished them on his shirt sleeve.

“Like the time I hit you with a chair by accident. And I apologised by the way.”

Tony popped his eyes back in their sockets. “Yes,” he said with a sour face, “and then you proceeded not to call an ambulance for me. I had to drag my sorry, damaged arse to the public phone booth.” Noticing that Tati hadn’t bothered to cover herself up, he looked away. “Come to think of it, why the hell don’t we have a landline?”

“Do you cheat off?”

He blinked and looked back at her. “Oh. Now you’re changing the subject. Is that what this is?”

Tati yawned, stretching her arms wide, her chest all lovely and pointy. Red-faced, Tony looked away again.

“Do you cheat off?”

Tony hissed through his teeth, “What the hell do you mean… ‘cheat off’?” The wall was suddenly quite fascinating.

Tati stood up. “Cheat off. Like in school.” She grabbed a top from the side cabinet. “What? Have you never peeked into someone else’s notebook?”

“No, I was a good boy. I was always very well behaved in school!” He kept looking at the wall. “In fact, I’m being a good boy now.”

“Really? A good boy? Then why are some of your poems so similar to mine?” Tati slipped her top on. “You can look.”

Tony swung his gaze back. “Why do I seem to be as perverted as you?” His eyes darted quickly to her top, ensuring that it was in place and covering all the right bits. “That’s what you’re really saying, isn’t it?”

“Perverted?!” Tati was so cute whenever she cocked her head. She was doing it now, her antennae tilting too.

Tony studied the wall.

“Are you blushing?” She gave a sly little grin.

“Oh, come on now! What about that Moses story? That was pretty sick!” He was flushing redder than a stop sign. It felt strange to be making such a passionate case to a wall.

Tati shrugged. Or tried to. “I wish not talk about dildos now.”

Tony stole another look. “Erm.”

“Yes, and about Pokémons too.” She began to look around the room for something. She wasn’t sure what. And it was kind of difficult to do with her cephalothorax fusing her head and shoulders together. Perhaps a neck massage was in order.

“Erm.”

“DO NOT EVEN THINK!” Claws on her hips, Tati leveled beady, critical eyes at him.

“But… that’s not possible!” spluttered Tony.

“Okay. Think.” She waved him off dismissively. “But something more useful than winkles and augmented reality.”

“Well, there’s that discussion group you were telling me about the other day. What if I pretend I don’t know about it so you can tell me like it’s a piece of news I haven’t heard before?” He gestured at the webcam high up in the corner of the room. “You know, for the benefit of our readers.”

Tati looked at the tiny electronic eye with a curious detachment. Tony never could tell what she was thinking or feeling at any given time.

“Yes.”

He pushed his case. “And it can be like a proper conversation so it doesn’t seem like the scripted advertorial it so obviously is. A spontaneous chin wag between friends. Like in real life.”

Tati looked at him and smiled. A warm smile this time. “Well… in short, ‘Mooreeffoc’ was picked up as a Book of September in Book Club (Young Adult Edition) on Goodreads.” Her smile deepened. “It is good. Yes?”

“Oh my, oh me! Really? I did not know! Thank you for imparting this most crucial piece of data, Tetiana! Pray tell, what more regarding this noteworthy event should we be informed of, darling dearest?”

Tati’s smile vanished. What the hell? He thinks this is pantomime?

Realising how foolish he looked, Tony’s puffed-out chest deflated quicker than a balloon at an asthmatics convention. His arms drooped to his sides and he stepped from the bed that he’d unconsciously mounted just moments before. He could be quite ‘method’ that way.

“Mooreeffoc. September. Club. Young Adult. Goodreads,” Tati tutted. Through her mandibles. Her earlier smile had looked more inviting to be totally honest.

“Oh. Fine. It’s blatant sarcasm then. I see. Thank you so much.” Tony scratched his head, annoyed. “You’re not going to mention that our readers can follow various links within this text to join the Goodreads Book Club too? That they can join in on a discussion group about Mooreeffoc? That they can—for a limited time only—nab themselves a free copy right here? None of that?”

Tati shook her thick testaceous tail, ignoring this pointed yet somehow long winded remark. “Tony, get yourself busy!”

“Huh?”

“Book! Have you finished the cover for our other book? The new poetry book?”

“Oh, what, now we’re changing the subject again?”

Her tail was looking rather sexy though. He reached out to stroke it…

Morning lanced between the curtains like a sexual predator and violated him right where he lay. Like it had every other morning of his life. God.

Tony tilted his head off the pillow.

What the hell? Why did I dream that of all things?

He grimaced. “Good lord. I was about to have sex with a lobster.”

“What did you say?”

Startled, Tony whipped his eyes to the door. Tati was standing there. She’d heard everything.

THE END


N.B. For those who are still unsure of what we’re talking about, we’re trying to say: Don’t be shy! Let’s go! There are only five days left! Get your free copy of our first book ‘Mooreeffoc’! (Lobster not included.)

by TETIANA ALEKSINA & TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2016

oroboroSoroboro

someone had a notion to peregrinate
that someone got potted, got someone else laid
i faked a riveted smile then poked my nose
resolutely into my tummy button

the passersby took their morbid snapshots
each burst extracting the soul from time
still i did not change my compromised pose
i had no use for these silly social critiques

i took a pen and unbolted my daybook
i wrote this heading: “how i lost my summer”
buried myself alive under the rose
in hopes of rising from the grave by fall

by TETIANA ALEKSINA & TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2016