LISA
Last Wishes
We’re all sat around a cracked Formica table playing MouseTrap while the rain relentlessly shoots at the caravan roof.
“Oooh it’s good to be back at Base!” Dad motions to outside. He tries to stretch out to show how relaxed he is but can’t, there’s no room. The three sleeping bags from the tent drip water into a little puddle that slides towards the open door and escapes.
Mum’s having the time of her life though. And that’s what this is about – our last holiday together. We snuggle in tighter and not just because of the lack of space.
RICHARD
Mouse Trap
Every Christmas at family get-togethers it’s the same old routine.
Out comes the box, and we all spend an hour or so putting together the various board game pieces, for Mouse trap.
There are, of course, always pieces missing, and we can never get that ridiculous plastic basket to stay put where it’s meant to go. Half the mice have been substituted over the years for Monopoly pieces, which makes the whole thing a bit nonsensical.
And the game is always a crushing disappointment.
I wish you could just quit.
But it’s not in the rules. I double-checked!
LIZZIE
“Quit whining. The mouse trap has been set. The facts are the facts. What about the martian base? I don’t care about the martian base. Let them take care of their own base. We take care of our stuff. No! No way, you’re doing that. The order has been signed and stamped. What do you mean? Yes, with the stamp thing they always use. Not that one. The other one. The mouse trap? You know. No, I’m not saying the martians are mice. What?! We’re not going to stamp the martians! That’s not what I said! Oh, forget about it.”
SERENDIPIDY
Will I ever quit?
I doubt it.
I know it’s a disgusting habit. Antisocial, bad for my health and for the health of those around me, and nowhere near as acceptable as it once was, but I suppose I’m addicted, and I’ve no inclination to stop.
So, you can keep spouting all the facts at me until you’re blue in the face. Tell me it makes my clothes and surroundings reek as much as you like.
Because, I simply don’t care.
I enjoy it, and it relaxes me.
And although killing people may be morally wrong, I love doing it!
TURA
Mousetrap; stamp
———
I found a mouse in the trap today. It was still alive, its hindquarters crushed under the spring. I was taking the trap out to the garden when the mouse spoke to me.
“this world is broken and made of pain” it said in its tiny voice.
“all flesh hungers for obliteration” it said.
“if you knew you would beg to avoid reincarnation”
“pain is all that was and is and shall be”
“choose death”
I pulled open the spring and dropped the body on the garden path, then stamped it under my heel.
Why should I believe a mouse?
NORVAL JOE
Sabrina stamped her foot. “Quit wasting time.” She waved her hand. The rain stopped and the clouds slowly dissipated. “You have to face the facts, Billbert’s life is in danger. You can either help me protect him, or you can get out of my life.”
Linoliamanda looked stunned. “That was harsh.”
The bell rang to start their next class. Before Billbert could step that direction, two very large boys blocked him.
One poked him in the chest with a very hard finger and said, “You look like you want to fight. Meet me after school behind the baseball diamond backstop.”
PLANET Z
Freddy liked to tailgate.
But he didn’t tailgate football or baseball.
He tailgated executions.
He’d load up the truck with coolers and a grill and food and water and beer.
And he’d get a stack of sticks and signboards and a staplegun with staples.
And markers.
He’d sell stuff to the protestors, people from either side, whatever.
And made a lot of money from it.
Until someone tried to steal his cashbox, and he killed the guy.
Freddy was arrested, charged, tried, and convicted.
Death, of course.
And on the night of the execution, protestors showed up, waving blank signs.
Møøse