Some competition stories….


Bed bug

It’s gone eight. Everyone’s asleep except me and Charlie. Emmerdale’s on plus one. And as usual, he’s laid his hand where he shouldn’t.

“It’s on a plate,” he says.

“It’s on every bit of crockery going. What must the kitchen think?”

“Come on. Let’s go before Archie Babble’s up for his half-eight flush. Twelve minutes.”

I shrug and nod ‘why not?’

“I’ll fetch a dunkie.”

“What for?”

“Old timer’s sake.”

My Lucy’s visiting tomorrow. She’ll realise and sigh and disapprove. She calls him the randy goat, worries about my savings. She’s just jealous he won’t try it on with her.

by Kai Merriot



It was bitter. Jarvis had come out dressed up warm in his big winter coat and scarf for the first time that autumn. A man stood outside the pub suffering the cold to smoke a cigarette. Inside, the fire was lit and saloon bar was snug. The landlord’s dog, Honey, lay panting in front of the hearth. Wesley had arrived first and already bought a round. Jarvis was usually a lager man but in deference to Wesley’s recommendation of the local ale, he drank it anyway. It tasted good and suited the inclement weather. “Two more pints of bitter please.

by Duncan Graham-Cameron



Dead man in the dovecote

There was a dead man in the dovecote. Dressed in my wife’s underwear. A rather fetching purple satin with white lace trim ensemble, in fact. Any fool, though, could see it didn’t suit a chap of his colouring, never mind his current situation. Ah well, no accounting for taste. The cadaver, slumped against the wall, was rigid and cold to the touch and already a bit whiffy, which made it all the more curious that the cigarette clamped between his lifeless lips was so firmly aglow, the blue smoke curling lazily upwards as specks of ash freckled his brassièred chest.

by Jonathan Ray




Kenneth Malone’s ears had always been quite large.  But as he got older his face seemed to shrink between them.  People often stared at him.  When he went shopping kids would shout names like Big Ears and Dumbo.  He had started having a recurring nightmare about looking in the mirror to see two massive ears perched on top of a pair of shoulders.  His wife said that she loved him, and his ears.  But Kenneth thought she would prefer that they were a little smaller.  He’d felt this especially since Christmas when she had knitted him a large woollen hat.

by Richard Williams



He’s Gone – a love story

I suppose she knew it wouldn’t last. He was too good for her; she’d known that from the start. What did he see in her in the first place anyway? Was it her money, her compliance, her adoration? Certainly she’d felt all those things. Still did. Always would. “Until death us do part,” they’d said and she meant it but he obviously hadn’t. She thought they’d forsake all others but he hadn’t. He forsook her and fucked others instead. She missed him already even though the earth was still fresh. And she was only just washing her hands of him.

by Christopher Appleyard



Gum Clinic

I’m Frankie Gutache. I am the same size and weight as a new born elephant. I eat regularly and well. I eat pies. I like chocolate. I like cakes. My mum says I am big-boned like her. Most of all I like sweets. My favourite sweets are  wine gums. They stick to my teeth and change the colour of my tongue. They are not very expensive. They have words on them, like sherry, brandy and port, so they’re educational too. I once ate seven large packets in one go. I didn’t get drunk, but I produced some very flavoursome urine.

by Chris Marshal



Subject: Parachute use to prevent death and trauma


> Objective: Parachutes prevent trauma related to gravitational challenge.

> Design: Review randomized trials.

> Study Selection: Using parachute during free fall.

> Results: No identified controlled trials.

> Conclusion: Effectiveness not yet evaluated.  Medicine criticises interventions evaluated using only observations.  Protagonists of evidence based medicine need to organize and participate in double blind, randomized, placebo controlled, trials.

> Discussion:  Studies tainted by accusations of bias.  The parachute industry earns billions, whose profits depend on belief in their product efficancy.  Trials conclude in favour of their product.  It is unclear whether the results of such trials are reliable.

> Results: No randomized parachute controlled trials in search.


> courtesty: bmj

by Larry Thorne


The Bra Bank

A Bra Bank has been added to the recycling point outside our local convenience store. Some charitable ladies are collecting old brassieres to send to the developing world. A large pink metal bin of pre-worn bras. A temptation for any local knicker-thief? My wife sorted out some of her old bras for the collection and I took them to the Bra Bank. My arm got stuck. The firemen were called to get me unstuck. I was trying to make sure my wife’s bras weren’t accessible to knicker-thieves. I honestly wasn’t trying to get other ladies’ bras out of the bin.

by Duncan Graham-Cameron



The Internet

Do you ever look random things up on the Internet? I do. When I was at school I used to look up rude words in the dictionary. Computers are so much better. You get images as well as words. You can look up just about anything, and you get thousands and thousands of things to look at and read. I don’t know how I coped before we had the Internet. I now have eight hundred virtual friends. I looked up the word ‘Bell End’ on google images today. Amongst many graphic images of penises there were several pictures of me.

by Chris Marshal



The Gas Man

I put people to sleep. Mostly I mean to do this. It’s my job. I use drugs and fancy medical equipment. Sometimes I say nice things like, ‘think of somewhere you’d rather be’, and ‘you may feel like you’ve just had a large glass of wine too quickly’. People like me when they are asleep. I’ve got so good at my job now that I put people to sleep by mistake. This can be through light conversation, or occasionally through a casual glance in their direction. I’m getting quite lonely now. I wish my wife would wake up. She snores.

by Chris Marshal




When I was young I was fascinated by the unexplained.   One Christmas I was given a book about UFOs.  My little sister wanted to borrow it and, reluctantly, I lent it to her.  When she did not return it I went to her room and, after a brief search, found the book under her bed.  The cover and most of the pages were smeared with a blue sticky mess that smelt like shampoo.  I was not very happy.  My sister maintains to this day that it was not shampoo but gunk left by aliens who had visited in the night.

by Richard Williams



The Truth about Espionage


One day she received a letter from the Central Intelligence Agency. They wanted to talk to her about a job. She agreed to a phone call. A man called, they spoke.  He could not reveal his identity. He explained it was a job only for the very patriotic. Little glory and not so much pay.  It’s kind of obvious (or maybe not) but if you are a spy, no one actually knows about it. You don’t exactly get to act in a Bond movie wearing an orange bikini with a belt. Duh. She decided the job was not for her.

by Ilaria Alber



When I was a kid.


When I was a kid, the neighbours screamed and swore

We heard through the wall that kept us from next door.

One day, while we were having our teas

(brisket, spuds and unusual peas

Salt and pepper, bit of mustard

And afterwards, some pud and custard)

My dad decided that to better hear the brawl,

he would give us all a glass to place against the wall.

We lined up, my mum, my dad, my sister and I

and listened ….to 4 glasses being placed against the other side

Seems they’d tired of acting mad

“Nosy bastards” said me dad.

by Gilli Bloodaxe



Girl Power

Laura Tobin was very excited to be starting university. She was studying Japanese. Laura loved language. She also loved boys, and secretly, she adored clubbing. Overhearing Laura confessing her passion in the Fresher’s Bar, Stephen moved in. He fibbed, he didn’t really like Japanese. Stephen had less savoury motives at heart. His rakish good looks helped him feed his passion. Stephen enjoyed luring fresher girls back to his flat. At 3am, Stephen asked Laura to leave. Far from being disappointed, she smiled back at him.  ‘Clubbing then,’ thought Laura, as she slipped the short lead pipe out of her handbag.


by Jon Spong

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