A few weeks back Detroit writer Patti Abbott threw down a flash fiction challenge for the aspiring penmonkeys out there in the tenches--write a story based on the art of Reginald Marsh. Her pan is an honorable on. Patti plans on donating $5.00 to charity for every flash story submitted. Fair enough...I needed a break anyway from banging my head against the wall. Onward.REVERSED
-Stanley? What’re you doing back here?
-I thought I’d surprise you. Here, doll. These are for you.
-You’re not supposed to be back here, Stanley. Jeeze…girls? Could you give us two a minute? Cripes, I’m not even dressed. My face is a wreck.
-You look gorgeous.
-Gorgeous, he says. I look like I’ve been hit with a pie.
-…
-…
-…
-I was in the audience.
-So I figured, you and all the other wolves.
-Pretty big house tonight. No big surprise, seeing that you’re sweetening the bill.
-…
-Did you see me waving at you?
-I can’t see diddly with the lights out there.
-I was standing during the final applause. I called out to you. I was on the right.
-…
-…
-You mean stage left.
-Huh?
-On the right. It’s called stage left in the theater. From the stage it’s reversed.
-Oh. Showbiz. Well, you were really good, the best number I’ve seen you do so far.
-…
-I can see how they saved your act for the last. That juggler though, he was some pill. If you’re going to throw a bunch of pins for your supper you shouldn’t drop them. Care for a snort?
-No, thank you.
-…
-…
-…
-...
-...
-You could get me fired, Stanley.
-Hey, it’s on the square, hon. I slipped your stage manager a few bucks.
-Oh yeah?
-Yeah.
-Who?
-That guy with the badger teeth. Short guy with a red face.
-Henry? Henry ain’t the stage manager, Stanley. Henry just works here moving the scenery and stuff. He’s practically an idiot for God’s sake. Mr. Jacobson, he’s the stage manager.
-Really?
-Really.
-Huh.
-So, what do you want?
-What do I want?
-Yeah.
-I brought you flowers.
-So I see. Thanks for that. They’re lovely. Roses. Shoe sales on Fifth Avenue must be good.
-Can’t complain.
-What do you want?
-I wanted to see you. I thought, I don’t know, maybe we could grab a bite or something. Go out dancing or something.
-Or something huh?
-Yeah.
-It’s the something that’s probably on your mind knowing you.
-Oh, you have me dreaming in colors.
-…
-…
-Look, Stanley. You’re a swell enough fellah, but I told you three times now, I’m seeing someone else.
-…
-…
-Who?
-That’s really none of your business.
-Come on. Who’s the stiff? He some big shot or something? I’m a big shot. I’m opening a second store, did you know that? Bank came through finally. Big plans. So…what’s this guy got that I don’t got?
-That’s not the issue and you know it.
-What’s that supposed to mean?
-…
-…
-…
-Come on, baby….
-Don’t.
-…
-I said don’t.
-Here, have a drink. It’ll put you on the cheer.
- I told you I don’t want your booze.
-This isn’t some swill, baby. This is one hundred percent pure Canadian rye. Come on, one little drink. No? Huh. Suit yourself. Don’t mind if I do….
-…
-…
-…
-…
-What’re you doing? Stop it, Stanley. Get your—Stanley! I said stop it! Jesus, get off me before I scream.
-What’s your problem?
-I told you. I’m seeing someone.
-Who?
-Someone who won’t take too kindly to you being back here and harassing me, that’s who.
-…
-Someone who treats me with some respect.
-Respect? What respect? I respect you.
-Oh, I know all about your kind of respect.
-What’s that supposed to mean?
-Look, Stanley, we’re through, all right? We had a nice time for a while but we’re through, can’t you get that through that thick head of yours? What, do I need to put the picture in a frame for you and wrap it up with a pretty, little bow? Jeeze, just take a hint for once. Scram before you get us both in trouble.
-…
-…
-Ain’t you a cucumber? Huh. Fine. So, where is this new boyfriend?
-Probably upstairs in the office.
-The office?
-That’s right.
-The office here? For this place? The theater?
-That’s right.
-…
-…
-Oh, no. Don’t tell me. Not one of those Jews?
-Get out!
-Why you little piece of stuck up—
-GET! OUT!
-Hey! What’s going on in here? Hey, pal, you’re not supposed to be backstage.
-What’s it to you, friend? Me and the lady are having a private discussion.
-Sounds to me like you’re making trouble.
-We’re acquaintances…ain’t that right, sugar?
-I don’t care if you’re the God damn King of Siam and she’s the Queen of Sheba. Take your flask and leave. Now. Beat it, before you make me do something you’ll regret.
-I’ll regret?
-Yeah.
-…
-…
-So you the big shot hymie she’s spreading for?
-What did you just say?
-Get wet, Jew boy.
-Jew boy? Hey, asshole, you see this?
-Hey. Hey now, buddy. Hey. Hold on a second. Let’s not get all drastic.
-No, you hey now buddy hey hold on a second and not get all drastic. Move it before I stick this so far up your ass I pop your guinea heart like a balloon.
-…
-…
-…
-…
-…
-You okay, baby?
-I’m fine. I’m fine. I’m sorry. God….
-Who was that piece of shit?
-Nobody.
-Yeah?
-Yeah.
-…
-…
-Better be.