Fiction Friday: March 17

Interrupted Marriage

The church roof fell away to show the UFO hovering above. A light shone down, bathing the ceremony in puke-green.

“I object!” came a spectral voice.

“Xxxyolofeny!” The bride clasped her hands together, the radiant joy gleaming from her amplified by the puke-green light. “You came back to me! It wasn’t an unreciprocated probing!”

“Of course not. Your anus is my property, and so is the rest of you. How can you let this puny human plumb your depths? I bet he doesn’t even sanitize his surgical instruments beforehand!”

The groom stuck his nose in the air. “I wash my genitals, thanks.”

“But you don’t develop the same amount of force as Xxxyolofeeny. No one can probe like he can. Sorry, honey. I need to go.” The bride hurled her bouquet, smacking the groom in the face with it. She didn’t notice as she ran onto the UFO.

Fiction Friday: March 3

Flowers

When the zombies came strolling across my lawn, I could only say, “Oh, not again!”

Fuck the bastards, ruining my tulips. They’re supposed to want brains, not flowers. Okay, fine, their physical coordination is shit, but the sidewalk is one fucking foot away — would it kill them to use it?

“I told you to put the tulips in the backyard,” Steve said. “They never come from that direction.”

“Oh, shut up.” I pulled out the shotgun, loading it without having to look. “It’s supposed to rain tonight.” That was a good thing. Do you know how hard it is to clean up zombie guts? My poor tulips!