Short Stories
The Exhiled Prince
Once there was a Prince named Harry Oatmeal.
Harry Oatmeal was a prince with a heart of gold, but his mother was a wicked queen.
She sold Harry to a diseased prostitute.
Harry was forced to work and serve the prostitute.
He had to degrade himself by scrubbing her bed chamber floors and washing her endless supply of linens.
One day, the prostitute tired of her slave and put him out on the street.
A lost Princess from a nearby kingdom found Harry by the side of the road.
She felt sorry for the prince, but she couldn't take him in, for she, herself had nowhere to go.
The princess was forced to flee her own kingdom for her own safety.
Neither the Prince nor the Princess had any place that they could call home.
Until they found each other.
They joined their forces and Found a small apartment to live in.
Harry would take care of the house and the Princess would go off to work to support their lives, together.
She worked as a dishwasher in a restaurant.
The pair eventually had a baby girl princess of their own to complete their family.
And they all lived happily ever after, forever and ever.
Harry Oatmeal
The following story is the true story behind the creation of a fictional character.
When Homer Mafesto was still married to his first wife, he was having stomach issues. His doctors wasn't sure what was exactly causing the issues, so they had him come in for a procedure that required a tube to be placed up Homer's nose to go down into Homer's stomach. The tube had to stay for a few days and it was very uncomfortable. Anyways, Homer's, now ex, wife, Horseface Donkeyballs insisted on going with him. The doctor's office where they were doing the procedure was an hour and a half away from where Homer lived and Horseface wanted to pester... er I mean drive him.
They get to the Doctor's office, the procedure is done, everything goes as planned, so far. On the way, home, however, Horseface decided she needed to eat something. If she doesn't eat something right that second she's going to pass out and die right there on the side of the road. Homer was extremely nauseated having a tube shoved up his nose , down the back of his throat and into his stomach. He didn't want to eat, he just wanted to go home and get better. He agreed to stop at a restaurant if he didn't have to order anything for himself. This appeared to be an acceptable compromise for Horseface. They stopped at a Dennys. She ordered a big Grandslam with Hashbrowns, Eggs, pancakes, and bacon. And when she heard Homer not ordering anything she started complaining, again. "Well if you're not going to eat, I'm not going to eat either." Homer rolled his eyes, what was the point of insisting on stopping, her ordering all that food, paying for it, and not eating it. "Ugh," He groan and glanced over the menu, "I'll have one bowl of Oatmeal, please." It was the only thing that looked even remotely appetizing in his current state of illness. When the food came Horseface enjoyed her meal and Homer tried his oatmeal. He had one spoonful, two spoonfulls...
and put his spoon down. He wasn't in the mood to eat any more. He looked down into the sad bowl after putting his spoon down and discovered a very long dark hair staring back at him. He was disgusted, at first, and then though that that would be a good name for somebody. Hairy Oatmeal. Harry Oatmeal. After they went home, Horseface ran away to join the other freaks at the circus and Homer changed his name. He changed it to Harry Oatmeal.
An Evening Of Fashion
The fashion club hall of fame was considering inviting new members into their high society elite fashion forum. Elite Fashions from yesteryear were all in attendance. A dress scrawled with a message in red that could only be called TTR was in attendance.
TTR was the first dress to arrive. She sat at a shiny glass boardroom style table. The owners of the dresses could not be found to join this meeting. It is just going to be the fashions and clothes, themselves. Also expected arrive was a Pink Pantsuit that insists on being called 'Salmon', A multi shaded Brown Pantsuit that had gone deaf from it's owner's constant spastic laughter, a green napkin that barely served as a gown for a Latina Pop Star, one gown shaped like a swan just honked.
Almost all the gowns scheduled were there, except one. In typical over the top artistic fashion sense, one faceted, mighty morphing mood dress was late.
"Is everyone, here?" Salmon asked, calling the meeting to order.
"Not yet," TTR sighed. "I am not even sure why we're doing this. I mean, don't we have more important things to do like free education for those that are too stupid to appreciate it?"
"Honk!" The swan called.
"WHAT!?" The Brown Pantsuit cupped a sleeve to where it's ear should be.
"Now, now." Salmon tried to simmer the din of all the other fashions talking over each other. "We-!" Salmon was interrupted by a loud fanfare trumpeted from outside the building. "There she is" Salmon sighed. "Pop Stars..." She muttered.
The door to the room burst open revealing a whirlwind of green sequined butterflies. Behind the butterflies, a craft that was part rickshaw and part old timey bicycle with a big wheel in front and a small wheel in back. Two human attendants seesawed on the pedals propelling the vehicle into the room. A fashionable frock that consisted of a corset, panties, and various draperies, bubbles, sharp points, and a collar that was all glitter and diamonds rode the conveyance. The gown floated out of the over the top transportation vehicle and into a seat at the table. "The meeting can begin, now." The gown morphed itself into soft pillowy bubbles to express it's own self satisfaction in creating the biggest scene with it's own entrance.
"Huh!?" Brown Pantsuit yelled.
"GET A NEW AIDE!!" Salmon yelled to the Brown Pantsuit.
"WHAT!?" Brown Pantsuit cupped her sleeve to her imaginary ear.
Salmon waved her off and went on with the meeting.
"Welcome, finally, everyone." Salmon continued. She did a penguin dance to welcome everyone to the meeting. "Does everyone know why we're here, today?"
"More dental floss?" A green napkin that barely looked like a dress asked.
"NO!" Salmon rubbed her collar in frustration. "Shut up!" Salmon sighed.
"HONK!" The swan dress responded.
"You shut up, too." Salmon felt her patience wearing thin.
"Can we get on with it, Pinky?" TTR whined. "Some of us have places to be useless at. This meeting is boring."
"My name..." Salmon hissed. "IS SALMON!"
"Fine, Salmon." If TTR had eyes she would have rolled them. "Whatever."
"Can we get on with this?" The bubble started to look a little flat and one or two spikes of annoyance started to appear. "My monsters get lonely without me."
"Fine." Salmon smoothed away a wrinkle. "We're here to see if we want to welcome a new member to our little club." Salmon waddled over to a projector and flashed an image onto a white screen that hung on the back wall. "Who thinks that Long Flowing Gown With Masked Attendant should be part of our club?"
There was a commotion of honking and 'What?!' as Swan and Brown Pantsuit tried to talk over each other. Salmon and the others waited for things to quiet down. There would be no point in trying to continue further until the noise went down.
Finally, after careful examination of the image on screen. Green Napkin noticed something about the masked attendants. "It's racist!" She snapped her opinion.
"No, it's not." TTR defended the attendants. "They're accessories." TTR looked at the morphing mood dress for help.
"It's only racist if we let it be racist." Morphing Mood dress's bubbles plumped and turned the color of spring and flowers blooming. "I wouldn't be able to get around without my assistants." She stroked one of her drivers that pedaled her contraption into the room.
"But, the masked attendants... " Green Napkin wanted to prove her point. "Are all brown."
"Uh.. no they aren't" Salmon pressed a button and a video from the runway played. "There!" She pointed after several minutes. "There's a white one holding a dress."
"Fine." Green Napkin sulked. "But if we include them in our club we should give them their own special category. Like the 'Jimmy Failla' award or something. Like we do with men's fashions."
"Agreed." TTR added. "Men's fashions are either boring or just ridiculous. I'd put Mayor Adams' Lapels and bedazzled anti gun public service announcement into the 'Jimmy Failla' category." TTR waved at the screen. "We could consider those attendants accessories? I already do."
The room was stunned into silence. Then they thought it over. Accessories was fashion's best friend.
"So it's agreed." Salmon penguin danced with joy. "The Masked Attendants are in as accessories. What about the dress itself?"
"Burn it, darling." Morphing Mood dress turned puke green and slipped sloppily over her chair. "It's like some kind of hideous Disney Nightmare. It makes the wearer look like Mrs. Potts from Beauty and the Beast."
Salmon nodded. "Dress out; accessories in: If there's no further business... this meeting is adjourned."
The fashions got up from the and went off in their separate ways.