Daily Prompt 5: “Snark Bombs, Away!”

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Snark Bombs, Away!.”

 

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I accidentally read this prompt as “Shark Bombs, Away!” and I thought it’d be about stupid amazing super villain weapons. Normally, I’d just do what I want anyway and proclaim my authorial independence but this time I’ll play along.

This compliance to your will shall not last, Daily Prompt…

 

Have fun~

 


 

Title: Snark Bombs, Away!

 

Prompt: “Try your hand at parody or satire — take an article, film, blog post, or song you find misguided, and use humor to show us how.”

 

I stand before you today, well, stand is just metaphorically speaking. I’m actually lording over these press bandits beneath me and am presenting myself as standing to you mere mortals viewing me from your smartphones and televisions. Stop picking your nose. You know who I’m talking to. Don’t think we can’t see you. It’s disgusting and morally corroding our society.

 

Now then. On the matter of the war.

 

There has been dissent concern that our nation’s method of “peace through war” is “Orwellian” or “pants-crappingly-terrifying.” Well, I’m here to lay these fears to rest. Right at your feet. Still writhing and gasping for life despite the futility of it all. Get used to the image, my people. All of these fears are just what the enemy wants you to think. They want you to compromise and become trouble with burdens of humanity and universal unity of our species. But when you look at the face of a child that hasn’t eaten for days and is desperately searching for his parents amongst the rubble of his bombed city, how can you feel nothing but rage? Rage will make us strong. Fear will make us wary. And wariness will ensure that no terrorist, conqueror, or Putin will break out spirits- because our spirit will be divided amongst the hundreds of millions of people in this country.

 

Every man will, so to speak, become an island. Isolated from global humanity and any hope of universal harmony. And that, my people, is how we win.

 

With each bomb we manufacture we condemn another family to misery (but who cares, they’re foreign, all the way across the big bad world!) and we get to boost taxes war contributions and keep… dropping more bombs!

 

Stay away from those blackboards you damn math nerds! And keep away from those dictionaries, blasted Liberal Arts professors! There’ll be no need to invoke the big bad D-word today. We always have enough money when we have people’s lives to ruin.

 

That’s what money’s made for, right?

 

Now, who has quesiton- Who’s a big dumb rube that can kiss my backside?

 

Oh, look at you with all of your hands up. How embarrassing.

 

THE OTHERS

 

 


 

I bet this was all just a clever ploy by Stalin to lead us dissenting elements out of the shadows and onto the anonymous labyrinthine internet. The old mustached bastard may not have thought that over too well.

 

Oh and also, he’s dead. I just felt on picking on Stalin today. It’s not a common occurrence, surprisingly.

 

 

Good luck, you brave writer folk!

 

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Flash! Friday: “Judgment Day”

 

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Pandora just gave me the Skyrim soundtrack on my Enya station. Not like I’m complaining, but Skyrim is Nordic, not Celtic. Those uncultured slobs at Pandora, honestly!

 

Have fun~

 


 

 

Title: Judgment Day

Character: A Man on Trial for Minor Theft

Theme: Justice

Word Count: 260

 

“This man,” the defendant cried, pointing at me, “took something priceless from me that I’ll never get back!”

The sanity in the room is sucked up there’s so many people gasping. Every person in this room is a woman, stunning and glowing with an inner kind of radiance, like the sun behind a cloud. I know all them all. And they all know me to the point where this whole courtroom is just one big jury box.

And I don’t think I’ll like the jury’s verdict.

I stand up. “But Your Honour,” I plead to my first ex-wife, She looks ravishing in that white robe, “she gave it to me willingly!”

The walls are lined with broken clocks. All of their hands point down, like a Roman Caesar sentencing a gladiator. And they chime, pummeling and divine until they hurt my ears. I sit down. The judge never even had to touch Her gavel.

“I’ll never get the time back that you stole from me,” the defendant says, glaring at me. Does she even have a lawyer? Maybe everybody here is one, too. Do I have a lawyer? Nope, just radiant faces reflecting light like sheet ghosts from my past.

“I think you’re overreacting here,” I say. I meant to charismatically laugh but it died in my throat. “We all had fun, right? Better to have love and lost than never at all?”

“You’ve never lost an hour,” the judge says, Her hand going for the gavel with Godly grace. “So for all your loving, its time you lost some.”

 

 

THE OTHERS

 


 

 

And I guess today is my 2-year anniversary with WordPress, neato! Why on earth did I start this up in October? Why did I start this up at all?

Nostalgia will reveal that one day, I’m sure. But it is not this day.

This day we post and go to bed.

 

 

Good luck, you brave writer folk!

 

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