Flash-VOAT 1

Fuzzytrooper

Hi all. Good response for our first flash-VOAT. A couple of the stories were above the limit (one very much so). Since it's our first one I'll allow it this time.

Anyhoo as always you can vote for more than one story and remember to give constructive criticism

Fuzzytrooper

Story #1

It came by email. Normally I would have junked it, but something about it piqued my curiousity.

"You have been chosen to participate in a scientific experiment. For 3 hours of your time, we will pay you €500,000. No experience required."

There was a big "Click here to change your life" link below the text.

Yeah. I know what you're thinking - as legitimate as an email from the Crown Prince of Nigeria trying to offload his fortune to a random stranger. I had been out of work for almost 15 months and I had exhausted all of the good stuff on Netflix. Twice.

I clicked the link and nothing happened. I clicked it a few times, swore in resignation, deleted the email and went to bed.

When I awoke, I lay there staring at the ceiling and planned out my morning. I reached for the bedside table and found myself blindly feeling around for my phone. When I couldn't find it, l looked sideways and just got a really weird feeling that something was off. The floor space was clean, no clutter at all. My clothes were neatly folded on the chair. I hadn't done that. I never do that.

I jumped out of bed and went to the door. Strange - no handle. Looking closer, there was no seam around the door either. There was something that looked like a door, but for all intents and purposes it was part of the wall. I went to the curtains and flung them open. The window was there, but no handles. The world outside seemed to be frozen in time. Cars were parked in the middle of the road and children were standing still in the park. Walking from one side of the window to the other, it was clear that this was also a façade. There was no parallax effect – the foreground and horizon were on the same plane. I was looking at a picture, a snapshot in time. This wasn't my room.

"Good," a voice said. "Challenge 1 complete. Quicker than most."

I looked around. There was nobody else in the room.
"Who said that?" I asked.
"You wanted to change your life," the voice said, "all you need to do wait for another 3 hours."

The penny dropped. The email. God, I was 99% sure it was bullshit. Who could do this? Scientists? Government? Aliens?!?

The voice continued. "It won't be easy. You will be tested, physically and mentally. If at any time you want to leave, simply lie on the bed. You will get 1% of the prize. However, if you survive the rest of the time, you win it all."

Jesus Christ, all I needed now was for Slugworth to appear and promise the world for an Everlasting Gobstopper.

"Challenge 2."

I felt a hum around my feet and instinctively jumped on the bed. The floor filled with blue lightning and then stopped.

"Challenge 3."

The room quickly filled with water. I took a big breath and held it. Thirty seconds later the room emptied, leaving me coughing and spluttering.

500k would change my life, but 5k was sounding pretty good right about now. I wasn't sure I could last another 2 hours and 55 minutes.

The challenges continued. Snakes. Spinning blades from the walls. Spiders. Two big dogs. Moving walls. Holes appearing in the floor. More electricity. More liquids of various types. Sudoku. Fucking Sudoku.

3 hours later, I was exhausted. I could barely move. As if reading my mind, the voice spoke one final time.

"Challenge 50. Lie on the bed."

Fuzzytrooper

Story #2

“What about the two ducks from Belfast?”
“Quack!” said one.
“I can’t go any quacker!” said the other.

“Ha Ha, good one Baron. Are we ready for the next one?”

“Next!”

The door to the interview room opened to reveal a medium built middle aged man. His dark hair salted over the ears, his fringe receded enough to be taken seriously. A polished crown shone through stretched strands of hair that struggled to remain gummed down. Adjusting his tailored suit jacket he stepped inside. Without prompt he marched straight to his mark in the dead centre of the room and took position in front of the solitary chair. He nodded at each one of the three men seated behind the mahogany desk.

“Ah, Mr Micheál Kenny. We’re delighted you could attend. A fine and noble bunch of men preceded you, but will you be their worthy successor? We admire your courage in putting your name forward to be the next Taoiseach. The last guy is still touring the country surveying the damage he did.”
Now that the election is just around the corner, so to speak, we need to get our ducks in a row...”

“...Or re-string the puppets. Oder?”

“Thank you Baron von Switzerlichtenstein. Allow me to introduce the panel. I am the chair, the Baron here represents the Rothschilds and I take it you are familiar with the Lizard Overlord. Please. Be seated.”

The chairman armed with a golden pen, poised it over the candidates file; ripe for an attack.

“You furnished us with an impressive CV where you comprehensively described your past 30 odd-years-or-so in Irish politics. Naturally, we do not require any prior experience from our candidates, although possessing a trait of compliance would indeed be advantageous.
Now, could you outline to the panel that if selected to be the leader of the 32nd Dáil; how much time you will devote to discussing policies?”

Micheál Kenny, recalled his preparation, cleared his throat and began to speak.

“Well, we all know that to have a successful political career that the last thing to talk about is politics. I can assure you that if selected as Taoiseach my time will be spent digging up dirt on the opposition, kissing the occasional baby and avoiding all commentary on current affairs.”

“Excellent tactic Mr Kenny, Micheál, if I may. What would you do if pressed upon to discuss an issue?”

“Well, I simply mention that it saddens me to think that more people don’t involve themselves in politics in a similar way to the person asking the question.”

“Wonderful, could you tell us what you would do in the event of a journalist interrogating you on a specific topic such as healthcare or taxation for example?”

“Well, I’m around long enough to remember when a politician’s word was taken as gospel, however, nowadays there’s a lot of pedantic nit-picking especially among the media....”

“Get to the point Mr Kenny!”

“Well, there is the surreptitious wink to the secretary, the cue to interrupt with: ‘You must take this call from the German Chancellor’, and failing that I would claim not to have seen that report or utter something along the lines of: ‘It was so-and-so who commissioned that report you should take it up with them’.

“Mmh” The chairman eyed the panellists.

“Well, I should mention the most blatantly obvious tactic of blaming the last government: ‘We inherited this problem and we’re doing our best to remedy the situation.’ and other such impotent statements.

“Fantastic Micheál. Well done so far. We are also interviewing for other top positions in the next Dáil. Considering that, how would you deal with a finance minister who would introduce a major spending initiative?”

“Well. The habitude of pouring money into bottomless bogs across the country remains in praxis since the foundation of the State. Driving truckloads of cash into bogs never to be seen again is overseen by tens of thousands of civil servants on a daily basis. Being a natural conservative I could never impede on such a glorious tradition.”

“Splendid! Taoiseach Micheál Kenny, it has a nice ring to it wouldn’t you agree? Finally. We’ve had many lobbyists complain to us that the politicians are, simply, failing them. How do you respond to this accusation?”

“Well, admittedly it is becoming more difficult to carry out many wishes. There is a reprehensible trend of honesty and transparency emerging in society. Ideological enthusiasts insist on ombudsmen for this and watchdogs for that. To no-one’s benefit really.”

“Oh, Mr Kenny, you were doing so well. Perhaps, if we were to inform you that there is in fact a trend emerging among us ‘one percenters’ – I coined that one myself, catchy isn’t it? - We plan to eliminate the middle man entirely...”

“Well, now now, Your Excellencies, there’s no need for such drastic action. I’m sure the new Dáil can commission another constitutional review along with an overhaul of some statutes.”

“Excellent. We knew you’d agree.”

Rising from the chair, our Taoiseach select deftly wiped his sweating palms across his trousers. He shook hands with the panel, curtsied, bowed and made towards the door.

The Baron called after him: “Kenny, make sure your people behave or we’ll leak the election results.”

Fuzzytrooper

Story #3

He could feel his cheeks getter hotter already. He imagined that there was a nice red hot glow emanating from them and that this was only going to get drastically worse the closer he got to the building. The realisation that his face was going to be totally flushed by the time he got to reception made him anxious. Being anxious made him feel queasy and it was beginning to feel like a horrible vicious circle.

Trying to get into a more positive frame of mind he tried telling himself that this was payment for a service provided, he was a service provider and a valuable service it was too. People relied on others providing this service. It could change their lives. The little pep talk wasn't working as he grew more anxious the closer he got. He repeated to himself 'walk to the building, do what you are getting paid to do, collect the cheque when done and walk home'. Dodging the oncoming pedestrians as he strolled quickly along he tried to put the thoughts of what was going to transpire within the next hour out of his head. Turning the corner onto Johnson street he froze a little when he saw how busy it was. Was a little late now to consider his best means of entering the building. Were there signs on the outside? Would people know what he was going to do in there? He briefly entertained the thought that maybe he should have brought a baseball hat and sunglasses although quickly discarded that idea as lunacy as he would look ridiculous and stick out like a sore thumb.

There it was on the opposite side of the street, a name plaque to the side of the front door indicating the name but nothing else. He just decided to go for it and darted across the road and straight into the building. As he pushed through the large door and into the reception his heart sank as he saw the receptionist. He knew that it just had to be a young pretty woman that would be there. Why could they not get some old hag?

He could feel his face starting to glow, beads of sweat forming on his brow and when he went to talk to the receptionist his voice definitely had a squeaky unnatural tone to it. When he gave his name she barely looked at him 'go through the red double doors on your right, straight ahead down the corridor and second door on the left. There are a number of rooms in there so please take an empty one. Take this container for your donation and return it in the sealed bag immediately as it will need to be processed. I will then go through your questionnaire'. He felt a little mortified but thought that he was getting though this part ok. Turning away from the receptionist and looking for the door, she finished with 'there should be plenty of material in the room to assist you should you need it'. Face flushed. Scorching hot. Damn her.

Walking towards the private rooms he decided he needed another pep talk. Ok there is a job to do, people need healthy sperm and I am healthy and have sperm. The advertisement said experience not required. Is a little clinical in the surroundings but there is a wealth of experience in doing what I have to do now. Just relax and do it. Jesus f...ing Christ what if I can't do it. no no no thoughts like that are not welcome at the moment. Thoughts like that need to be prevented from seeping into consciousness. Fooling no one as they are already there once thought about. Too late. Doubt had arrived and with it crushing uncertainty. How long was he in this little room? five minutes? ten minutes? An hour? Nothing was going to happen. He realised that the minute the receptionist uttered the words should you need it. So what is the point in staying. Trying to work out the next move? Just bolt, up and out the door. Drop the empty container on her desk and run. Maybe put the container in a pocket. What if he sees the receptionist again. The mortification. Then a moment of pure inspiration. Despair turned instantly to hope. The fire alarm

Fuzzytrooper

Story #4

Apply Inside: No Experience Required
" Well that was in fact the notice I saw in the window of the taxi company, and I never knew at the time it was put in by Big Frank, or at least by one of his henchmen. Oh I am sorry, would you like a drink of wine with your food? Let me order for you. a'amselle une vin ... Merlot? Oui une Merlot. Merci. "

" Right where were we? Oh yes the notice in the window, well there I was out of work and with all my experience, which counted for nothing. Oh didn't you know? I had been in the French Foreign Legion for some years, in fact since my early twenties. Yes I was fully trained and my chosen role was a sniper. I must admit to being proud of my ability, however, and I must emphasise this, I had never ever killed anyone.

"Anyway, there I was outside the taxi office and I was in need of work. I could have stayed in France back then of course, but I wanted to visit the old homeland, and like an idiot I had been robbed by a pickpocket. When you become desparate, like I had become, you are willing to contemplate many things. I had never contemplated what was in store for me though. I went into the office and said the the girl behind the desk that I had come to see about the job. The girl just sat there with an unconcerned look on her face, chewing gum and filing her nails. She stopped a moment to point at a door and pressed a button under the counter. The door clicked open, so without saying anything I went on through.

Behind the door was a room with a desk at the far end, two men were talking quietly with their heads close together. The one seated looked up and waved me in. The one standing looked fearsome, well ovwer six feet tall and built like a shed. His bald head was scarred in a number of places and one eye was marbled. "Name?" The seated man demanded of me. "Dawson, Jack Dawson" I replied. The seated man stood up and his jaw dropped all in one movement/ He was huge. As tall as the bald man but more rotund, if that is polite. His grey beard almost hid the shock on his face. Before I knew what was happening he was around the desk and staring at my face, looking into my eyes and giving me a severe looking over. I didn't want to know what was going on at this point. I tried to free myself from the big man's grasp and mumbled something about making a mistake. However it was all in vain. "Jack? Jack is it really you boy?" I think I must have done a goldfish impression. "Jack it is me, Frank, your brother boy."

"Frank! My elder brother, he had left home long before me to go to Dublin. The last time I had seen him was my father's funeral. He had been slimmer back then and he had no beard, but this was him. Big Frank was Frank Dawson, leader of one of the most pwerful of the city's mob families. Well, he was my brother and as a child had looked after me in the only way he could, with his fists. I had never thought to see him again. I loved my brother dearly, but never realised he was still alive, we had lost touch after he had left home, apart from the one brief moment at the funeral.

The bald man quietly left us alone, I saw him leave but Frank seemed all too interested in me. Well we chatted for hours there in that room. I told him about my time in the Legion and he told me how he had risen to lead the mob. It seems it just sort of happened because he had never backed down, never showing fear. He wanted to make the mob legitimate, and pay back money into the economy. He was basically still my big brother, trying to do the right thing, trying so hard to be a good man. I had to help him, he was my brother!

He had enemies and I am sure you know how they stitched him up, framed him for something he had not done. He was cleared of course, but I visited him in jail during the trial. The big bald man was the one who had stitched him up. 'The Beast' they called him, and most folks were terrified of him. I had never heard of him before then, as I was not in the country. He wanted Frank's position and he thought he had him in his trap. The poor Beast.

Pardon? What happened? Well, just after Frank was released we went to a pub near Frank's place, Frank went for a fill up and I sat at the table. The door opened and in came the Beast with two men. He looked around, obviously looking for Frank. Anyway he saw me, and came over. "Well well if it isn't the baby brother. aww diddums" He went on like that for a while, trying to goad me. I kept my temper though. No need to get Frank into trouble. The two henchmen, now went looking for Frank, the Beast had no fear of baby brother.

The Beast waited until they had left and then swung around with a vicious backhand blow at my head. I saw it coming, threw up a block, and kicked out from my chair. Sadly for the Beast I was wearing really heavy steel toecapped boots and I roundhouse kicked his knee. The sound was awful. His knee snapped like a piece of rotten wood and he began to fall just as I was getting up. His head was an easy target as he went down and a heavy boot caught him quite deliberately on my part. His head was just a football to me. He lost his other eye I understand and was left with a permanent limp.

Anyway, that is why I live here now. Lovely isn't it ? The sun is really warm too. And of course Frank comes over a lot with his family. Would you like to be shown around the boats? They are really scenic as the fishermen come in. The job?

Ha! The job that was advertised was for the girl in the office's job. As Frank said, she was bloody useless, she was also the daughter of the Beast and she now torments him mercilessly I understand. I almost feel sorry for him. Almost.

Fuzzytrooper

Story #5

Door-to-door salesman. Janitor. Bartender. Assistant manager in McDonalds. Trainee butcher. Hell, even a brief stint working as a circus clown. Bob had tried them all, and none of them were for him.

The sign had caught his eye, and now he lingered restlessly outside the unremarkable office door upon which it was posted. If you saw him stopped there you wouldn't be able to tell if he was about to go inside or move on, but it was clear he wasn't going to stand in the same spot for much longer. He was swaying back and forth like a man who had a pressing appointment somewhere across town.

He didn't.

Bob had dropped out of college nine years ago, and had worked here and there, all over, ever since, never finding his true calling. If such a thing even existed. He certainly didn't know, but wasn't the type to lose all hope, so clung to the idea that his perfect job was somehow waiting for him; one that he'd just trip over at some stage and instantly realise 'hey, this is what I'm meant to do'.

He thought this road to Damascus moment would come all of a sudden, a bolt out of the blue, once he came within sniffing distance of such an opportunity, so he was slightly suspicious of both the sign he was staring at and the opportunity it might entail.

“Have you got what it takes to change the world? No experience required – apply within.”

No surge of electricity. No light-bulb moment. Not enough details for that, maybe. But despite Bob's reticence, he couldn't deny that he felt as much intrigued as he did cautious.

He'd been unemployed for three weeks, and needed to find something to pay the rent, which is why he was busy pounding the streets. And the chance to make a difference, to change the world? How many times would that come around? Not often, particularly not for someone like him, with wasted years behind him and the danger of unfulfilled potential ahead.

His friend, bar manager at the Grattan Lounge, had made Bob a throwaway offer of a few nights employment to cover another's absence, not much in the way of pay but familiar work. Staring at the sign, he considered the advantages of just picking the path of least resistance, yet again.

Walk on and get by, you won't get burned. Why risk it, right? Hey, you just mightn't be cut out for something different, something big, whatever it is.

One more look at the sign. Bob banished those thoughts telling him to keep moving, to take care, to stick with what he already knew, no matter how unfulfilling.

Time to roll the dice. He ran his fingers through his hair, fixed a smile in place, and pushed open the door.

Fuzzytrooper

Story #6

Their footsteps echoed through the darkness. Mack, the younger of the two turned up his collar. It was cold, cold and damp. Now and then a small flicker of light peeked out of the gloom as they passed revealing the presence of yet another door. He paused, turning to his colleague. “What is this place?”

Even in the low light he could make out the gnarled features of the older man. Although less than fourty, a life of conflict had aged him well beyound his years. His grey hair, already starting to thin, hung like a limp mop around his temples. Wrinkels hinted at a life spent grimacing – fighting and little to no laughter. His eyes were cold and dead, and when his gaze fell on Mack, it chilled him more than the corridor ever could. A smile threatened to break out in the corner of his mouth.

“Isn't it obvious?” His voice was coarse and gravelley. “This is where we lock them up. The miscreants, scoundrels and troublemakers. Those who would threaten our peace.” He turned back on the corridore and resumed his march.

Mack swallowed hard, gathering the courage to interrupt once more. “But such a place. Why it's horrible here!”

Abruptly the man came to a halt and spun to face Mack. “You think these are nice people? That they deserve nice treatment?” Spit flew from the man's mouth in Mack's direction.

“No.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “No, we cannot, we will not show weakness. You are young, naieve, but that will change once you see what we must guard the innocents from.” The man reached passed Mack. The sudden bang of metal on metal made him jump. That seemed to please the man.

“Look here young pup, and tell me that we are too leniant.”

Mack turned around and peered through the porthole that now sat open in the cast iron door. It was lined with rivets. Rusted and old but tough and immovable, not unlike the older man. He squinted trying to make out something, anything in the darkness. Something was there in the corner, trembling, snarling to itself.

“What is that?” Mack asked.

“You mean who is that.” the man replied.

Mack continued to watch the corner, and true to his guide's words, it indeed was a man, malnourished, scared and animalistic yes but definitely a man. Sensing their presence, the creature slowly turned his head. A cruel smile creeped across his face. There was murder in his eyes.

BANG! The porthole slammed shut.

“Do you see now what we face? The madness that is out there?” The man asked.

“Yes but what did he do? What was his crime?”

“That one...” The man inhaled sharply. “Oh that one. I caught myself. We call him the Face Kicker. He found his woman in bed with another man and.... he kicked her face in. Quite literally. Have you ever seen a woman's brains mashed into a carpet?”

“I can't do this. I can't be an enforcer like you!” Mack stammered. “I wouldn't know how.”

The man smiled a second time. “You'll learn. The ad did say no experience required afterall didn't it?”

Mack nodded in reply. The man turned and started back the way they came from.

“Just follow the hallway lad and look for the Moderator's lounge. Tell 'em Pickarooney sent you.”

Das Kitty

6 stories, hot damn!

Looking forward to reading later.

twignme

I have just read one of these and already I know this is going to be a great evening's reading. Settling down later with a glass of something and the laptop.

Mr E

Welcome back all.

Poll closes at 9:20am tomorrow, so still time you get your reading and votes in!

Now that the site is hooked up to CloudFlare, there shouldn't be any more major outages (fingers crossed).

Fuzzytrooper

Hi all. Due to the site outage the voting deadline has been extended until Saturday morning. Remember to post some feedback ☺

twignme

Fuzzytrooper wrote: »

Hi all. Due to the site outage the voting deadline has been extended until Saturday morning. Remember to post some feedback ☺

I had presumed that feedback would be given after the results were known?

Mr E

Yeah I will hold off on feedback until the weekend. I want to give feedback on the 5 other stories, and that would give away which one was mine...

echo beach

twignme wrote: »

I had presumed that feedback would be given after the results were known?

Better to wait until after the results. You don't want to bias the voters.:)
It is difficult enough to make a choice.

Fuzzytrooper

Fair points. Ill hold off until then

Brian Lighthouse

I voted, I wanted to vote for a few, but in the end I picked one. They were too close, so I voted for the one that had just the weensiest little bit extra.
Great response with great stories.
Better type the feedback now, so I can copy and paste into a message after the poll closes.

Brian Lighthouse

Posted twice??
I don't know how to delete a post so I rubbed it all out and I am saying welcome back after the DDOS affair.

Das Kitty

Well done story 1!

Mr E

Thanks DK, and thanks to those who voted for it.

Well done to everyone else, the standard was very high across the board. There were no bad pieces in there.

redser7

Well done!

Brian Lighthouse

Well done to story one. Mr E knows the audience he was writing to. Good stuff.
Thanks to the one person who voted for mine.
PS: We can normally see who voted for who, not this time, what's up? Thanks

Story 1
I felt the short word count was against this one, we might have been able to empathise with the poor chap’s pain going through the ordeals. If it was longer we would have been treated to some more gems such as the protagonist being unemployed for 15 months and he was at great pains to tell us that he exhausted all the good stuff on Netflix twice, but he never once mentioned going out to find a job. Sudoku as the final challenge was a touch of genius though.
Story 2
I like the way the writer has the politician saying “well” at the start of each sentence so we know who is talking. I like that the writer was poking fun at the conspiracy theorists.
Story 3
When reading this one I wondered how many times the fire alarm had been set off by other clients in the same predicament. Alas for the protagonist, the girl behind the desk would probably turn him down should he approach her in a bar regardless of whether he filled the vial or not. Enjoyable story.
Story 4
Why is the protagonist living away from Ireland now? I reckon he did a bit more than just have a fight with the Beast. I was wondering was he talking to the interviewer from the Costa del Crime in Spain. Enjoyable.
Story 5
This is the one I voted for and the reason why is because on the first reading the story presented a realistic scenario and describes the protagonist’s reaction to the sign. As he weighs up the pros and cons of sticking to what he knows or walking in the door, it is something that I could identify with. Plus I like the ambiguity of it all.
Story 6
I didn’t like it on first read, but on second and third it grew on me as I realised the moral dilemma the writer presented to us. We could all be in a situation like that, finding what you might be doing reprehensible but having no choice due whatever reason.

Brian Lighthouse

Posting twice again, Delete this please

Rubecula

SOB SOB SOB

Computer went a bit mad with blue screen of death I missed the vote. not that it would have affected the results.

Well done to all concerned I loved them all ... apart from my own entry lol

Rubecula

SOB SOB SOB

Computer went a bit mad with blue screen of death I missed the vote. not that it would have affected the results.

Well done to all concerned I loved them all ... apart from my own entry lol

Rubecula

Mr E wrote: »

There were no bad pieces in there.

:pac::pac::pac:

mine was awful

echo beach

I suppose feedback is better late then never so for what it is worth this is my opinion, feel free to agree of disagree. I enjoyed all the stories and the different takes.

1. This was my favourite. The idea was original and well executed with a lovely little twist at the end.

2. The basic idea was good but it didn't quite come off. I didn't check but this felt over the word count and in need of an edit. The start was weak which is a problem for any piece but especially so for a short one where there is isn't time for it to be forgotten. Dialogue was overused so that it read more like a sketch than a story. Has potential as a longer piece.

3. In contrast this one had next to no dialogue which might have added to it, breaking it up a little and giving more scope to the central character. Overall it was well written but somehow lacked that little extra spark to persuade me to vote for it.

4. Another one that felt over the word count but actually needed to be longer to be engaging. There was just too much happening for flash fiction.

5. This one opened well and built up the tension nicely but while a story doesn't need to tell all it does need to tell something and the ending left me disappointed. Maybe I should have been able to figure it out but I was lost.

6.This one managed to reel me in and got a vote for the totally unexpected ending. Well done.