#comedywriting

The Great Ice Cream CatastropheWritten by: Emmitt Owens(Index #12062023)    Marla clutched her triple-scoop rocky road cone like a trophy as she settled onto the park bench, her beautiful white sundress fanning out around her. The afternoon sun beat down mercilessly, turning the asphalt into glistening waves of heat, but she was determined to enjoy every last chunk of chocolate and marshmallow…

Broadcasts, Briny Dreams, and Phantom Burnout    Thursday night at Chill & Fill, and Bob stands vertical… a portent of impending doom.   The second red flag? He brandishes a microphone while clutching a coffee mug proclaiming “#1 Defense Attorney.” For the record: Bob’s legal expertise peaked at a contested parking ticket in 2003, which he lost spectacularly after representing himself and citing…

⚡ Some keys don’t fit. But that didn’t stop them. 🔑

Sebastian lifted the key and studied it. He rubbed his chin, rotating the heavy bit of metal until the light caught its shiny edge. With a huff, he bounced it off his thigh as if it had been a conductor’s baton silencing his orchestra. He grunted, turning toward his friend as he twirled the long piece of polished iron.

“It’s a key.” Jimmy hurried down the path and flicked the odd-shaped thing. “Granted, far longer than any I’ve ever used or seen. And the grooves are zigging and zagging in every random direction, like a mountain range designed by someone who’s only heard rumors of mountains.”

Sebastian twirled the key around his fingers before thrusting it toward his friend. “I’m aware of its unusual design.”

A smile spread across Jimmy’s face as he rubbed his hands together. “You think it’ll unlock something fun?”

“Let’s find out,” Sebastian said, gesturing down the trail.

Jimmy followed his gaze, discovering a narrow stone pedestal with a glass case perched upon it. He hurried to it and studied the hourglass resting within. As he watched the falling sand, it pulsed with a faint blue light. A second later, crackling power erupted, washing over the transparent surface. Jimmy’s back straightened as he backed up several steps. He pointed at the energy snaking its way across the object. “Is meddling with this clever?”

Sebastian bounced the key against his palm as he approached the pedestal. “Electricity is always a little dangerous.”

Jimmy pulled Sebastian away from the column. “Messing with lightning is never a smart idea. I meant getting close to the glass box. It’s been dumped here as if someone wanted to forget about it.”

“There’s a feeling of something absent-minded about this setup,” he said, circling the pedestal. “But we have the chance to claim the prize.”

Jimmy’s head went sideways as he pointed at the iron key. “Why would anyone use lightning bolts to defend their property?”

“I’m sure the free-flowing electricity is the box’s way to keep thieves away.”

Jimmy’s gaze whipped between the crackling box and Sebastian. He rushed another half-dozen paces as he thrust a finger at the glass container. “Then you won’t have any problems unlocking it.”

Sebastian’s shoulders climbed up as he frowned. “Why are you acting like that?”

“I’m not the one holding the key!”

Sebastian brandished the piece of polished iron. “Are you suggesting this cements me as the test subject?”

“Possession makes you the most qualified,” Jimmy said, ducking behind a boulder.

“Fine,” Sebastian said as he sighed. He walked to the pedestal, approaching the single keyhole. Sebastian brought it close to the opening and groaned. He rose to his full height and looked back at the cowering Jimmy. “The key’s too big for the keyway...

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There are two kinds of people in this world. Those who admit they pass gas. And those who lie. Somewhere, right now, someone is claiming they have never passed the proverbial wind. They sit there with a straight face, pretending they are a sealed biological container, completely airtight like a brand-new pickle jar. Sure. Of course. Meanwhile the rest of us live in reality. Passing gas is a…