MONDAY NIGHT: The grumpy man stands at his toilet. He has a headache and his vision is blurred. His penis hole is gummed up and two irregular streams miss the bowl entirely before he can cut off the flow. He knows his wife Faye will call him a slob. He will be misunderstood again. The piss on the floor is not the result of poor aim and male insolence. In a fit, he grabs a washcloth and begins to mop the floor. Behind the toilet, he finds a stump of cigar. He is not a smoker. Now he is really mad.

THURSDAY AFTERNOON: The grumpy man has tripped on a crack and the crows in the trees are laughing at him. His hand is bleeding. His new trousers are torn at the knee. The grumpy man is alone on the sidewalk in the middle of a gated community at dusk. The neighbors watch the man through their shutters. The grumpy man stands and punches a mailbox. Ten blocks later, the man is spread eagle at the rear of a police cruiser. He has forgotten to bring identification. He was just going for a walk.

SATURDAY: The grumpy man is unhappy, always, even on weekends when he is not required to labor as a government-paid provocateur. When the grumpy man prematurely flips a perfectly round pancake and it breaks into battery pieces, the frying pan sails through the kitchen window, randomly striking a Witness spreading the hopeful word of Jehovah. This action assures the grumpy man a place in eternal hellfire. On the other hand, Jesus will greet the Witness in 23 earth years at the Pearly Gates. Jesus will give the Witness a monogrammed cardigan which the Witness will wear in Heaven, causing unspoken envy among the other angels.



About the author:
Vic Monchego, Jr. lives in a yurt in the Pacific Northwest Autonomous Zone (98070). He writes flash fiction in the gaps between business meetings with very important people. Vic is an actuary. Visit www.beanactuary.com.

© 2009 Word Riot