Seventeen Demented Dwarves
Ficlets and Ficly survivor, FicMom, and Mistress of Well-Intentioned Indecision and Goddess of Unrequited Love. @ElshaHawk @HawkandYoung
Seventeen dwarves rounded the corner in clown make-up looking like what can only be described as demented. Ten of them still had napkins tucked into their collars. Seven wielded forks. One swung a turkey leg menacingly then paused to take another greasy bite. The red face paint left on the leg did nothing to convince me to bargain with them.
"Stop! As Mayor of this town, I.."
"You wouldn't BE Mayor if it weren't for us!" screeched one in rainbow suspenders.
"Yeah," agreed the one with giant blue tears painted on his face, "we ARE the town!"
To make their point, one of them in a tiny green bowler hat picked up a metal dining chair from outside the café, hurled it through the bakery window, then climbed in to smash cupcakes in his face. Tourists fled, screaming.
"Technically, you are the main attraction.."
"We bring the money; money talks; money makes Mayors; we make you."
"Fine! You can have your monster truck rally. Just stop eating the profits or there won't be money for either of us!"
No prequels yet. Why not write one?
No sequels yet. Why not write one?
Comments (1 so far!)
I love the twist in the tail of this tale.
- #1172 Posted 7 years ago
- Published 7 years ago.
- Story viewed 10 times and rated 0 times.
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