Flatty Flat Flat

I'm an Iron Writer and every week there's a new writing challenge, to create a 500 word story incorporating 4 elements given in whichever way to feel. This is a great way to learn and practise your writing. Go over to The Iron Writer to find out. And I love it when there are Specials. This one was directed at a certain member who was very "literary," shall we say, though to me fell flat. Hope you like this little "dig."

DL Zwissler Amazon Special - Elements: 500 words, ketchup, fish stew, the Invisible Man, image of man holding a peeing baby

Flatty Flat Flat

"Well, I tell ya, I was giving him a right bashing..." beamed Flatty, flailing his arms in the air, recreating the fight.

"What? The Invisible Man? You can't even see him? How can you fight him?" laughed his mate, Dicky, sipping on his beer.

"Hey, I'm fantastic, I am! I can do anything! Oi!" He called to his girlfriend Mavis. “I can smell fish! You know I’m allergic!”

“No fish in here! Come and help with the dinner!" she shouted back.

"I'm only halfway through my story!" He picked up his beer and gave it a swig. Ignoring his girlfriend’s request, he continued on. "So, it was like this..."

From the kitchen, Mavis and her friend Josie heard only muffled laughter and whoops from the other room.

"I am starting to really hate him. He's so full of shit."

"Not from this photo he ain't." Josie had stolen an old photo album from the drawer and showed the picture up. It was Flatty as a baby, being held by his father. By some freak of coincidence or luck, the photographer, probably Flatty's mother, had caught the moment when the kid had "released" himself of liquid waste. He was peeing a fountain. Mavis and Josie laughed and both grabbed their wine glasses.

"Cheers, girl."

"Cheers."

"Hey, you!" His face popped through the kitchen door. "Where's the grub? I'm starving!"

"It's coming!"

"Hurry up with it!" The door closed again as Mavis growled.

"Are... are you guys doing okay?" asked Josie, downing the wine.

"What, Flatty? He's just... full of himself, you know."

"That's a good thing, isn't it? Confidence, isn't that what a woman wants from a guy?" Josie held out her empty glass and Mavis filled it up.

"Yeah, 'course, but this? He's all mouth..."

"...and no trousers?" Josie laughed but stopped, noticing Mavis wasn't joining in. They shared some nervous glances until Mavis burst out laughing.

"Well, he ain't called 'Flat' for nothing!" They laughed so hard, two heads slowly appeared through the door.

"Oi! Can you keep it down? I'm trying to tell me mate a story here!" Flatty gave his "disappointed" face. "And get a move on!" Both heads left.

"Wow. What a shit." Josie downed her second glass. This time she helped herself to thirds.

"Easy on the vino, girl, you'll need some space for munchies." She knew she couldn't stop her, that's why she'd bought four bottles.

"Anyway, Mavis, if he's such a shit, what are we doing here? What the hell are we celebrating?"

"Oh, you'll see. Flathead in there doesn't even know it's my birthday. I woke up to rants of how great he is and how he's going to take the music world by storm with his fantastic groovy lyrics and beats."

"I've listened to his stuff, it's... it's..."

They both shook their heads.

"Pass me the ketchup, Josie, I've run out of tomato purée."

Her friend took the bottle from the fridge and handed it over.

"What are you making?"

"Fish stew."

(The End)