The Revenge of the Wild Haggis

Based on the myth that Scotsmen hunt haggis

Somewhere in the Highlands of Scotland:

“Order! Order! I’ve called this all clans meeting to discuss what we can do bout stopping our friends and families being kidnapped and eaten” the Chief Clansman stated.

“Hear, hear” shouted Wee Willie.

“As e all know, it’s around this time every year that we get hunted doon,” the chief continued.

“Sommut must be done, I’ll nay lose another bairn,” interjected Aggi.

“We moust act now, if we’re to save our bairns” the Chief stated as he stamped his wee foot on the floor.

“I blame that Robbie Burns. What have we done to him, why are we being sacrificed like poor lambs to the slaughter?” Jock asked.

“Hear, hear” shouted Wee Willie.

“Aye, I’ll agree with e there Jock, I’ve never heed of him.”

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It’s Only A Job

‘Miss Green, would you come into my office?’

            A stern expression on the solicitor’s face. Stacey shrugged. Parker was a jerk. That wrinkled spud of a face and those tiny full stops of eyes: she bet he had no kind of life outside the office and his wife henpecked him.

            ‘Really, some of your typos.’

            ‘My what?’

            ‘Typing errors. Look here. Evidence-based farts. It’s facts Miss Green. And here, look. This is a price we should balls at. It’s balk at.’

            ‘Maybe they read better that way?’

            ‘They don’t make sense that way. Get them altered please and pay attention to your work.’

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Revenge is a dish

We’ve come the full circle now with the Harvey-Samantha saga. Most of us understood from the get-go that they shouldn’t even have met, let alone moved in together.

I mean, no one’s perfect. But Harvey is one of those people whose worst imperfection is in the nature of an art form. A performance art form. He hones his art and displays it wherever the opportunity arises.

To give an example, our gang often meet up on a Friday night for a couple of drinks. For Harvey, this is an opportunity for artistic self-promotion. He challenges people to out-drink him whilst remaining standing. He calls for combinations of alcohol to prove his talent for holding his drink. Boring stuff, and excruciatingly embarrassing for Samantha.

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A Martian Revenge Tragedy

Martha relaxed into the pilot’s chair, her term on the punishment planet complete. A message flashed on her HUD, “Thank you for your service.”

She hit the eject button.

Ten years earlier, a signal from Rob, “Thank you for your service” meant “Get out of there”. His warning never came. The bots got her, and her wonder turned to blame.

Why contact her now? It had to be him.

She looked back at the ship, then she got her answer as it exploded into fragments. The shock wave hit: her pod shook but survived, coming to rest two-thirds of the way up Pavonis Mons.

“Suit,” she commanded, “status.”

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Paper Dolls

Hannah walks into the classroom, and I freeze. It’s not the way she narrows her eyes at me as she passes, sitting next to Jess instead of me. I expected that after yesterday. No, it’s the bright red gash across her pale forehead that turns my stomach to slush. A crisp diagonal line from temple to opposite eyebrow, like a No Entry sign.

It can’t be happening. Not again.

I couldn’t believe my luck when I made friends on my first day here. After everything that went on in my old school, maybe I was going to fit in at last.

For weeks, Hannah, Jess, Katie and I were inseparable. Until yesterday, when they suddenly stopped speaking to me. Confused, I trailed after them like a lost puppy until Hannah finally said,

“Emily, why didn’t you tell us the reason you left your other school? My Mum said you stabbed some boys in their sleep.”

The others wrinkled their noses, recoiling theatrically.

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