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February 18, 2008

Monday

Do you know what your sin is?

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Title: The Eighth Deadly Sin

A pile of bodies, strewn carelessly about like so many discarded dolls, litter the ballroom floor where the guests congregated after the meal. A chef, his hat normally worn high and proud but now deflated in agony, stands there in cuffs between two police officers and surrounded by reporters.

Amidst the throng of questions by the crowd, he can be heard to wail with a distinctly foreign accent while pointing his finger at an assistant, "It was an accident! He thought the bottle read poisson, that it was only fish oil! Who left that bottle there in the first place?"

Posted by: Joel at February 18, 2008 4:32 AM · Permalink

“Do you know what your sin is? Because y'all get all the way here and don’t know, and have to do it all over again and it’s a damned waste. Ha. Well?”
While she waited, the pain started again.
“I… don’t… know…” I growled.
A black bubble materialized between her lips and grew almost as big as her face. Paler, wormlike shapes writhed within, a few bloated faces pressing against the bubble’s curve – and then Gaia popped her gum with one black fingernail, setting off a million tiny screams.
“I’ll give you three guesses,” she said, snapping her gum again.

Posted by: Meowbag at February 18, 2008 4:53 PM · Permalink

The small room contained only a small table and two chairs. A single light hung from the ceiling.

My captor leaned forward and growled, "What made you think you could get away with something like this?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," I said, "There must be some mistake!"

"No, the only mistake here is yours, my friend. You thought we wouldn't notice but you were dead wrong."

I crossed my arms and leaned back in the chair. "Well then, suppose you tell me what you think I did?"

"You had fifteen items in the ten item express line!"

Posted by: Owl Creek Observer at February 18, 2008 5:22 PM · Permalink