We’re excited to announce that Kris Lovesey, frequent Mini Sledgehammerer, won this month!
Character: A journalist
Action: Popping a bottle of champagne
Phrase: “I’ve seen weirder fish than that.”
Bretta & Gretta
by Kris Lovesey
Bretta arrived the morning earlier, at six thirty. She came on the first train from Berlin. Gretta hadn’t seen Bretta since she left for school eight years ago.
Two days ago, a spring storm blew over the towns spire. It had been standing for three-hundred seventeen years without any repairs, until it crashed to the ground- killing a known vagrant. No one in the town cared much for the vagrant and it was an annoyance for the clergy involved, to plan a burial they knew they were obligated to do- but wouldn’t receive a penny for.
Bretta came because she was a field journalist for a Berlin archeological publication, specializing in early Christianity.
The fallen spire cracked wide open revealing carvings in a rare early Germanic script. The whole spire would end up in Berlin, to be picked over ad nauseum. Bretta took the photos and wrote the story which would spark great interest in this spire- from this tiny town.
But we shall digress. And digressions end up in taverns, with the vagrants who didn’t get squashed by the tower. They were figuring out who Thomas (the squashed one) owed what, and if there was a way to settle his debts without him.
Bretta and Gretta were also in the tavern catching up. Of the vagrants Gregor was the most drunk. He just sold Thomas a cart, which he had burnt to a cinder pile before receiving the second half of the money for it. And, he noisily demanded the rest of the bunch to at least pay his tab for the night, as he had obviously lost much more than the rest of them at the hands of God squashing Thomas.
Gretta showed disdain for the men but Bretta assured her the down-and-out men of Berlin were much worse.
“I’ve seen weirder fish than that.” Were her exact words.
“Well, I don’t put up with their shit.” Gretta tensed up.
The bar lady popped the ladies a bottle of champagne. The cork hit Gregor square in the temple. Causing him to drop his beer. His foot slipped off the glass, sending him through a small cloth curtain door. Everyone in the in the tavern turned- hearing Gregor fall down into the cellar. Where a fifty farthing piece actually lodged itself under his shoulder blade.
Gregor awoke the next morning a beetle, and the rest is Kafka’s Metamorphisis.
Gretta did it. Killed them both. They definitely deserved it. They had done many terrible things. And it was time the world learnt the secrets in the spire.
© 2015 Kris Lovesey
Kris Lovesey is bloody sick of the status quo. Threatens to walk to Canada. Snores. Is trying to get Box Truck Press off the ground. Cant quite get around to making the most amazing cat coloring book known to mankind- seriously, aliens will come down to steal it, y’all just wait and see. Kris is fifteen feet tall, 2000 pounds of furry and kindness. Works for kisses on the cheek, chocolate, marijuana, and little pieces of paper with dead people on it. If you’re bored, he doesn’t care about you, but instead will recommend you read one of the many awesome books in the universe (or one by Box Truck Press). Box Truck Press doesn’t have a Box Truck yet, but watch out cause we are saving up those pieces of paper with dead people on them. #boxtruckpress on twitter. Kris demands you have awesome days, awesome sex, and if you miss an awesome sunset- just try and catch the next one. They happen at almost the same time each day, just to keep us all on our toes. Kris cares about you deeply.