Shitty Short Stories

5

     "Come back here, you bitch!" The bard chased me across the village.
     I yelled back, "You're threatening me right now, why the hell would I?!"
     "You're a witch, aren't you?!"
     I stomped to face him. "That's what the village calls me! But I can't actually do magical shit! Now you accuse me of cursing you?! I just wanted to sleep!!!"
     The bard fell silent. What the hell is he going to say now...
     "I..." he began. "I might have mistaken you for someone else."
     "You don't say?"
     "But why did you run?" He pressed.
     I wanted to ask him how he could accurately chase me even when he said he couldn't see. But instead, I answered, "why wouldn't I run in a village that ostracizes me?"
     He stepped closer. "I'm sorry about that..."
     I snarled, "it doesn't matter if you apologize. I just need you to return the maidens and show your face."
     "But I can't do that, especially by myself. I'm shackled by this curse."
     I raised a brow. "And I just have to "hold" you in order to lift it?"
     "Not only that," he touched his rear neck. "You have to love me, truly. The other maidens had failed to do so. They only loved my surface appeal: the romantic attitude, my handsome voice."
     "Why's the face censored?"
     "I was leaving that for last."
     "Ah, right." And then I gasped. "When you hold a maiden, you're not planning to kiss them aren't you? Because a hug is too vanilla, it's always a damn kiss!"
     "I know right?!" The bard cried, "I told the witch I'd rather hug than smooch female strangers but she said "in my defense, it's for the sake of the plot"!"
     I shook my head with a tsk. "What a sick lady."
     "Exactly! A bitch!"
     "Don't twist my words, young man."
     "Yes, ma'am."