#chrisflash7

"Come on. Here's the bus. Get your gimp ass up."

Percussive maintenance. That's the proper term for hitting an inanimate object until it works again. And Mike was certainly hitting it. A simple slap at first on the side of the monitor. I barely noticed it. Quickly his pathetic slap turned into a flurry of punches aimed directly at the glass of the screen. "The fuck are you doing, man?" I threw down my magazine and stood up ready to pull him off the computer. "If you've broken Darleen, I will break you!" I took the three steps across the living room in a heartbeat. No one treats my baby that way. Before I could stop him, the abuse stopped. "What the hell was that? What are you looking at?" Mike positioned his body in such a way that he became a shield, protecting my eyes from whatever filth he was perusing. "Don't worry, it's just frozen. Sorry. Just, don't worry", Mike said, still staring at and shielding the screen ,but I was intrigued now. Whatever he had found must have been particularly debauched. And his tenacity to keep me from seeing what the screen had frozen on just made me want to see more. "Fine, keep all the good stuff to yourself, ya bastard." I turned, ready to fling myself back onto the sofa and back into my magazine. Mike clearly watched me as I prepared to dive and his body relaxed; this was my chance. I turned, launching myself at him. With a crack, the swivel chair landed on its side with Mike still in it. The barrier was down. I was free to see the frozen screen and my god it was... His ex's Facebook page. Ten minutes ago it had been updated. "In a relationship." Mike had pushed himself out of the chair and pulled his knees into his chest. His head fell forward and he wept. It had only been a week since she called it off. I knew he was devastated but this was the first time he had shown it. I watched, clearly uncomfortable. My mind scrambled, unsure the best course to take. I wanted to make sure he was okay. That I would help him through this. That this new guy's car would mysteriously end up keyed. But none of that came out of my mouth. "Wanna build a blanket fort?" I asked. The broken ball of a man before me nodded into his chest. "Okay, buddy. You wait here, I'll get the blankets." I went to head upstairs to our bedrooms to collect the building materials but stopped myself. I knelt down and pressed the computer's power button and held it. The screen blinked away to black.

Chris Walsh AKA ChrisFlash. We wish you the very best, co-founder and fellow scribe! Many happy returns.

“So, how did it go?” Master Murder asked as the door slammed shut behind me. “You know exactly how it went, you arse, I’m sure you’ve been watching my demise unfold on television for the last four hours.” I was in no mood to be pushed around by my dick of a housemate. The golden age of supervillainry had gone the way of the leatherback tortoise: there was only a tiny per cent of us left in the world. We had to make ends meet somehow. For me that meant finding a roommate to split the rent with. “My favourite part was where your kill-bot tripped over its own wires. Seriously, who connects their kill-bot to the mains? A rookie mistake, my friend.” Nothing could take away the smug grin on Master Murder’s face. Not even if I repeatedly punched him. He would smile at me with bloodied teeth and still call me a twat. It had all been a perfect plan. I had taken hostages, made them comfortable but not too comfortable. I had offered their lives for 10 billion pounds. I laid in wait until The Night Wolf showed up. I had my kill-bot ready to spring a trap. Then the kill-bot tripped, the Night Wolf sprang the hostages free and then his knuckles found their way into my jaw… and stomach… and kidney… and head… and really? Who punches someone in the knee? “I think I’m done…”, I said as I collapsed onto the sofa. Master Murder looked up at me, his grin suddenly gone. “What do you mean? You can’t just quit! We’re brothers you and I! A bond forged in evil!” I knew this would upset Master Murder but I have no other choice. I was one hundrend and eighty three bouts to nil against the Night Wolf. I was even fifty six bouts to nil against his sidekick, Little Pup. It was embarrassing. I couldn’t face it anymore. “We’ll still live together! I just think it’s time for me to grow up and get a real job!” And that was that. With those words I made a deal with myself that I would find a real job and make my way in the world like an honest man. Three Weeks Later… “Hello, Major Terror speaking… I mean, Tim speaking. I’m ringing you today to talk to you about your double glazing.” I hate my job.

From here, the spark sets off a fuse. The fuse links to a computer. When the fuse reaches the computer, it will send a direct signal and detonate the bomb. That won’t be for a while though, might as well get a drink and try and get laid while I way, otherwise this entrance will have gone to waste, wouldn’t it?

Finally I take out my jacket. I’m ready. I’m a man.

“How are you feeling now?” After the sixth hit, the orange wedge made a dramatic exit from my oesophagus. “A little better… So, shall we start?” I’m eager to just get this over with now. I know I haven’t got it. “Of course, would you like a napkin though?” I look down at my shirt. Five orange pips as well as a lot of smushed orange cover it. “Oh god, yes please.” This has to be the worst interview ever…

I love animals, always have ever since I was little. In all my life my only response to knowing that I was going the zoo was "OH MY GOD! PENGUINS!" And sometimes other animals. But mostly penguins. They have been my favourite all my life. Now at 23 years old I stood in front of the penguins. I'm not as happy as I used to be. I'm upset at how uphappy these animals look. I see the children around me laughing at the funny flightless birds. This background music of laughter makes the scene even more grotesque for me. These birds are in pain and everyone around me just finds it funny. I can't take it any more so I walk away. "Why are you walking away?" I turn around, no one is talking to me. Just one penguin is staring at me. "You are the one." I'm really confused now. I look up the the loud speakers that are placed around the park thinking some 17 year old has just gotten hold of the microphone and just decided to mess with me. But the penguin continues to hold my gaze. "This is not a trick, I am speaking to you telepathically. You are the chosen one Carl. You are the only one who can free me and my brothers." I look around. I try and find anyway that I can help them get out. So they can return to the life they love! But I see no hope. "I'm sorry, I can't help you." I think looking at the penguin. "Bollocks, oh well, I'll try the next one who looks sad."