Lord Crispyfingers looked over his flavourful domain, seeing many opportunities.
"A bright future ahead of me," thought he. Of course, he had no inkling that a viscious mime waited at the fork in the road.
He pulled over when his tire inevitably went flat and it was then that the viscious mime made his move.
Silent as always, the mime slit the man's throat.
His blood flowed black down the collar of his shirt - his end.
He slumped to his knees on the cold hard floor, shaking in fear as death approached.
Death, robes more opulant than in the fairytale illustration, asked him a question.
YOU ARE READING
Consequences I : Utopia
HumorConsequences – the game where we write a short story by passing it around a table. Each person takes it in turns to write a line. To make it more interesting, they can only see the one line before theirs. Everything else, including the start of the...
