Stories written for Flash Fiction Day 2017: I’ll be updating this post throughout the day if you want to keep up. If you’d like to get involved with this event yourself, you can sign up here! As long as it’s still June 24th in your time zone, it’s not too late!
“Buttman to the rescue!”
“Your friendly neighbourhood Buttman is here to rescue you. That’s what.”
“Yeah, I got that. The whole thing sort of came out of left field for me, though. I thought you just had a really impressive cleft chin or something.”
“Nope. My heroic visage is a sign to evildoers everywhere that they’re in for a serious ass-kicking.”
“No ifs, ands, or butts.”
“But…surely there are butts? Surely that’s your whole superhero persona?”
“And isn’t it a little unwise to bring up ass-kicking when your face is…you know…”
“Look, everyone has an ass, alright? I’m not the only person that can be flipped against. When other superheroes talk about ass-kicking, you don’t assume it’s going to be theirs that gets kicked, do you?”
“I think other superheroes just avoid that sort of pottymouth altogether, if I’m honest.”
“Hey! Don’t be cheeky.”
“Was that a butt pun?”
“I crack jokes. It’s part of my persona.”
“When I said ‘crack’ just now, that was also a…”
“Yeah, I got that.”
“Some of them are quite subtle.”
“They really aren’t.”
“Okay, do you want to be rescued or not?”
“Sure I want to be rescued. It’s just…it seems ironic, doesn’t it?”
“Well, you know…I hardly expected Buttman to come and stop a gas leak.”
“Ah, I see.”
“Because usually if anything you’d think someone called Buttman would be the one caus…”
“I already told you I get it! Now can I just get on with rescuing you?”
“Uh, actually I’m good.”
“What? I thought you wanted to be rescued!”
“Yeah, no, I did. Only I’ve sort of changed my mind just now. You know.”
“So you don’t want to be rescued?”
“Yeah, I mean, I wouldn’t want to be any trouble. I can always just wait for the next superhero. There are loads around.”
“What’s wrong with me?!?”
“It’s nothing personal!”
“You’ve literally just said you’re happy to wait for anyone else! How am I supposed to not take that personally?”
“Okay, fine! I didn’t want to say this, but your breath smells terrible.”
“I had some very garlicky pasta for lunch.”
“And now I’m picturing you eating it. That’s actually even more offputting.”
“You know what? Fine. Do wait for the next superhero. I’m just going to put this whole episode behind me.”
“Oh no! That evil voodoo ship is eating EVEN MORE swimmers!”
“We’re going to need a bigger shark.”
“Good morning, students,” said Mr. Matthews, beaming.
“Good morning, Mr. Matthews,” said the students, making every effort not to make an effort.
Good grief, thought Ms. Phillips, stuck standing at the side of the assembly hall for no good reason. If you got a lie-in at the weekend, Monday felt terrible. If you didn’t get a lie-in at the weekend, Monday felt terrible. You just couldn’t win.
“Today,” continued Mr. Matthews, “we have some exciting news. St. Chad’s Comprehensive is adopting a vibrant new technology-focused brand.”
Actually, Ms. Phillips considered, the worst thing about coming in here every Monday morning was that, although it was disturbingly similar to coming into school every Monday morning as a kid, it also wasn’t all that different to turning up to some buzzword-laden middle management meeting either. It was pretty much the worst of every conceivable world.
“We know how much the youth of today like their dank memes, and that’s why our new educational mascot is…Philosoraptor!”
“Wait, what?” said Ms. Phillips. She’d said it because she’d just sort of assumed that there would be a general murmur from the kids that would mean nobody heard it, but there wasn’t. There was just a general stunned silence. And as awkward as it would have been to have everyone in the room suddenly look at her because she’d been the only person to make any sort of comment, it was actually worse to find that nobody responded. Nobody except Mr. Matthews, because he was the only person not completely appalled by the idea of the school being represented by a ten year old internet joke.
“Ermahgerd!” said Mr. Matthews. “So spicy. Much meme. Very doge. Also the school’s new motto will be ‘I can has educashun.’”
This was painful. Ms. Phillips’ only hope was that the problem would somehow conveniently resolve itself.
“I am now going to drink this bone hurting juice,” announced Mr. Matthews, holding up a bottle labelled “Bone Hurting Juice.” Then he drank the bone hurting juice.
Everyone continued to watch, unable to tear their eyes away.
“Oh no. My bones hurt. Ow. Oof. Ouch.”
Conveniently, Mr. Matthews’ bones hurt enough that he had to go home for the day and everything went back to normal.