Monkey Vs. Tiger

So who would win in a fight?

How many Monkeys are we talking about?

There’s one Monkey.

Is it armed? One monkey by itself couldn’t put up much of a fight but if it had a knife...

A knife?

Yeah, a knife. So it could knife the Tiger.

Don’t you mean stab?

Same difference. Would it have to practice beforehand as well? It wouldn’t stand much of a chance if it was handed the knife just before the fight but if it had time to practice, it could really give the Tiger some trouble.

What if it had a gun then?

A six-shooter or an automatic? Or maybe a machine gun. It would need lots of bullets too, for target practice. And you’d need to been hidden somewhere out of the way as well.

Why?

In case the monkey shot you of course.

Of course.

In that case, it would definetly win. Even if the gun ran out of bullets the Monkey could still pistol-whip the Tiger.



Does the Monkey have violent tendencies though? While I know the Tiger's a killer, maybe the Monkey is a painterly type and wouldn't want to fight. We could be condeming the Picasso of the monkey world to death!

Okay then. So what if it was a Marmoset versus a Tiger?

Aren’t they like little Monkeys?

Yes.

Obviously the Marmoset would win easily. They’d just crawl up on the Tiger’s back where it couldn’t reach and then wait until it got tired and fell asleep before biting it to death.

Obviously.

Flash Fiction: Cheese

Inspired by a true story:

So I was sat in the pub last night, just having a quiet pint with myself when this guy siddled up to me and whispered "Do you wanna buy some cheese?"

So what else do you do in this kind of situation except ask "What have you got?"

"Well" he said "I've got a bit of Brie, a morsel of Mozzarella, a crumb of Camembert and a slice of Stilton. You could gorge yourself on Gorgonzola or roll around in Roquefort."

"I've also got a bit of the harder stuff. A chunk of Cheddar your thing? Or is a piece of Parmesan more your fancy?"

I said I'll have to think about it.

Special

A new piece which will be appearing in Bad Marmalade's Flash Fiction week in the new year, complete with illustration.

Special

When I was little, I thought I was special. You know, unique in some way.

Then everyone died and it turn out I was right – Lucky me.

Problem is, now I am unique.

But I don't feel special anymore.

Flash Fiction: Bad Santa

I contributed a piece to Bad Marmalade's Flash fiction week over on myspace. You can find most of the other contributions here, which I would recommend as they're all of a high standard and my own here. I'm hoping to write a few more of these in the future, which is why I've started a new catergory.

Bad Santa

I ended up in one of those Christmas shops a while back. You know the sort, the places that appear around October every year and disappear along with the new year. There was a full-size animatronic Santa Claus on display, wriggling his hips from side to side and singing, “We’re not leaving until we get some”.

I'm sure it winked at me as I was leaving the shop.