by , under Fiction Prompts, Friday Fictioneers


Last thing I remember was being angry that Janie was late. I decided to make it a double.

After that, nothing.

You probably heard the stories about me. Somebody like me. The guy who gets tossed from the bar by a pair of bouncers, the guy who is 2AM drunk at 8:30.

Hilarious, legendary.

But for me, they are just stories that happened to someone else, some mythical character with whom I happen to share a face and a name. These nights are covered in black fog.  I never, never remember.

I wake up to the evidence. That’s all I get.



Friday Fictioneers

  1. Bloggeuse

    Haha, poor narrator! I should probably feel a bit sorrier for him, but nah – one look at the chicken suit and I just can’t :D

  2. kirizar

    While I am generally liking the demise of the feathered beast, I am really liking the Elf on a Shelf being throttled by Darth Vader!

  3. paulmclem

    There could be worse things to wake up to after a booze binge than a chicken suit. Time to take control before it does get worse.

  4. Björn Rudberg (brudberg)

    I have woken up to evidence, I have friends who did (one woke up with a shoppingcart in his room filled with signs.. one of those was a sign from a policestation… :-) But he’s well established these days.

  5. Anonymous

    The man has a serious problem and, having an alcoholic in the family, I know how it plays out.


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