Humor Poetry posted August 12, 2017


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Joke into a Story contest entry

The Crossword Puzzle

by DragonSkulls

Tell me a joke that turns into a story Contest Winner 
The author has placed a warning on this post for language.
I was working on a crossword puzzle while waiting on my friend at a little
coffee shop, so we could grab some lunch. The cafe was mostly filled with
women sipping on their lattes, gabbing with their coworkers and such.

Brad showed up about twenty after eleven. "Hey."

"What's up, buddy." He grabbed a seat. I was stumped. "I have a question
for you. What's a four letter word for woman ending in u, n, t?"

"You pig!" Yelled the lady at the table next to us. "What a bastard! Why do
women have to put up with male chauvinist ass-holes!?" She went ballistic.
"I'm sick of men like you! You're lower than dog shit!" She stood up and
continued her verbal assault. "Say that to my face! I dare you! Call me
that and see what happens!"

"Whoa, lady, chill out. I'm just doing a crosswo-" She slapped me in the face.
Not only once but numerous times. She was slapping the crap out of me. I was
trying my best to block but that clearly wasn't working. I had to get out of
there. I crammed my puzzle book in my pocket. I somewhat nudged her out
of the way when I stood up, so I could get to the door to escape. She tripped
on a chair leg and fell backward, flat onto one of their little tables. When that
happened, three quarters of the women in there stood up. I was in trouble. Me
and Brad took off running. The bad part about it was that they all came running
too. They were chasing our asses.

We ran a couple blocks and Brad was a little ways in front of me. We passed a
woman with a female black lab that then broke free of its leash. It was gaining
on Brad like it was going to pounce on him. I yelled...

There were a couple of events going on in our city that day. One of them being
the women's fifty mile triathlon. At that very moment, they were tearing down
the street in the middle of the bicycle aspect of it. Neither of us seen them and
Brad was about to run right out in the street, in front of them.

Back to the dog. Thinking it was going to attack my friend, I yelled, "Watch out
for that bitch!" The front three racing women turned their heads and looked at
me like, "What did that bastard just say?" One cyclist veered into another and
they both brutally crashed to the pavement. The other thirty women, fast on
their heels, had no other option but to follow suit. The pile up was devistating.
Now, pissed off, they too were chasing us. We kept on running.

When we got close to the river that's when I saw our escape. A dam. We'd lose
these women running across the top of the dam. Hopefully.

The other event that was happening at the time was the Gay Pride Parade. It
was on Bayshore Drive. We would have to dodge straight through the parade
to get to the dam, but you gotta do what you gotta do. I was in front of Brad
by around twenty feet. He was following my lead. I was pointing toward the
dam as I ran.

He said, "What do you see!?"

Then, right in the center of the Gay Pride Parade, I yelled, "It's a dike!"

That didn't go over too well. Misunderstanding my intent, about half of
the parade (all the women) decided to join in the chase as well. There was
a good sixty women chasing us by then.

We crossed the dam and kept on trucking. That gave us a little bit of distance
between us and certain death. The first place we came upon was an elderly
woman's assisted living facility. We ran around the back of the building, looking
for something, anything to hide us. There was a metal rack in the back. On
one of the shelves was a box of oversized garbage bags. The box had been out
in the elements for a while. It was withered from all the sun and rain. There
was no telling how long it had been out there. We were going to use the trash
bags, get in them and not move so they'd pass us by thinking we were just trash.
The rack fell over when I tried to get the garbage bags down, making an awful
ruckus. I ripped the box open. Every single bag I pulled out tore to pieces. It
simply wasn't going to work. They were too weathered.

Six nurses and a couple elderly women came out the back door to see what was
happening with all the noise. Brad asked me, "What is the problem here?"

I answered, "They're just a bunch of old bags!"

"What the hell did you just say!?" One of the nurses shouted.

"Oh, crap!" We took off running again. The six merged into the horde of women
that came up from the west.

A few blocks later, we ran up the sidewalk in front of this shopping plaza. The
place on the corner was a sub shop. I was starved. I could smell their
scrumptious sandwiches. The one I could smell the most was my favorite.

The next door down was a jazzercise place. Around fifteen women were in there
dancing out a good workout. As we passed the open door, I yelled back to Brad,
still enjoying the beautiful savor of the sub shop, "It smells like tuna!"

Next thing I knew, fifteen more women were in hot persuit. Brad yelled, "Will you
keep your fat mouth shut!?"

We were running out of steam by the time we reached downtown. They weren't
letting up. We ran into one of the highrises and pushed the up button for the
elevator. We jumped in and the doors opened at the eighth floor. We had no idea
where we were going but we still desperately needed to get away. We turned left and
bolted. That's where we ran into a dead-end. The room just before the end of the hall
was a self defense class. Yep, full of women. Two muscular females were beating on
 male manikins in front of the class. We passed right by that room.

I looked out the window and watched the women piling in the doors at floor level.
Our only hope was the fire hose. There was a glass case with a fire hose on a
spindle where we stood, cornered. We had to climb our way to freedom. Once all the
women were in the building, I picked up the metal trash can, bashed in the case
then threw it through the window. We unraveled the hose down the outside. We
weren't to the end before we saw the first of them charging down the corridor. We
were still twenty foot shy of the sidewalk. The women from the self defense class
came into the hallway, checking on the window crashing disturbance. They looked
at us and then at the charging women then back at us. I hollered at Brad, "More hose!"

"What did you call us, you son of a bitch!?" Of course they misunderstood. How could
they not?

We dove out the window, clinging for our lives, sliding down the hose. Just before the end,
the hose snapped loose from our weight. Luckily, at that exact moment a troop of
girlscouts were exiting the building. Their tender bones cusioned our fall. The only thing
broken was their pride. We jumped up and again began to run, now with a troop of
girlscouts in the mix as well. Why not?

A few blocks away, we turned down an alley. I guess the workers were at lunch. Brad
and I jumped down into a construction manhole and pulled the manhole cover over us.
We watched through the tiny holes as close to a hundred angry women passed over the
top of us.

We sat in the sewer for a while just to be sure it was going to be safe to surface. While
we were sitting there in silence, a few minutes went by and out of nowhere Brad said,
"Aunt."

"What?"

"Aunt. A four letter word for woman that ends in u, n, t...Aunt."

"Of course, how stupid am I? Aunt. I'm a moron." I pulled my crossword puzzle book
out and went to the page I needed. I looked at the page, then back at him. "Hmmm,
you wouldn't happen to have an earaser on you, would ya?"

 

Writing Prompt
Make a joke a story

Tell me a joke that turns into a story
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