Longer Tales Short Stories

Cash and Prizes

THWAP You kick in the door to ‘Uncle’ Bobo’s Gift Depot, trying your best not to pay attention to the hissing of what you assume is stale air escaping from the forsaken warehouse. You’re not alone, being joined by two masked fellows from the Ministry of the Occult. Honestly though, you could probably have handled taking notes by yourself. Having to take these two bumbling idiots along just complicates matters. No reason to suspect any…

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Longer Tales

Questions, Answers, Interpretations

I I’ve started my search at a young age. As Arthur Laveau, my father, did, and his mother before him. None of them ended up happy either. Not that that mattered to them. Before he passed, he would tell me stories. Stories about wondrous men in far-off lands, capable of teaching the most succulent knowledge to all who were willing to listen. Tales of emaciated beggars being approached at night by shadowy figures, and leaving…

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Longer Tales

Please Join Us

The Andersons Invite You To The ANDERSON FAMILY BBQ BASH! This Friday, July 12th at 6 PM Bring A Dish To Share! Libations Are Welcome As Well! You frown, and crumple up the overly decorated invitation, tossing it over your shoulder. Fucking Andersons. Stuck up bunch of snobs, is what they are. They’ve got the biggest yard, the greenest lawn, the reddest car, the best salary, and they’re never afraid to show it to everyone…

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Longer Tales

The Ballad of Filthy Elvis

1955 The air is greasy. Every object in the room feels slick to the touch. At least, it would, if you didn’t have these ropes on. The sound of sirens blaring. It’s dark here. A basement of sorts? Attic? Who knows. A damp, dark, greasy place. Next to you, on the hardwood floor, is a rather short fellow. He too has been bound and gagged by your mysterious assailant, but also seems to have a…

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Longer Tales

Employee of the Century

Izzy (gatorhug.tumblr.com) and I collaborated on this one. We are both very proud of it. She’s a writer as well, go give her stuff a read! Your hands wander aimlessly down the front of your dusty workclothes, fiddling with the cold black buttons that run down the entire length of your torso. Your eyes aren’t fixed so much on what they were doing, rather, across the shop to the wall-mounted security television. There wasn’t much…

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