Disposable Fiction – The Rabbit’s Last Stand: Part Eight – BOOM!

On November 29, 2017December 8, 2017 By John d'AndrioleIn Fiction, No-Draft Theater, Writing2 Comments

Well, despite all of my best endeavors, PART EIGHT has happened. I know that you and I had that talk and we thought we were of an accord on this. But things happen, life intervenes, people change over time, folks fall into pits, governments ascend and descend, and zoological signs proceed slowly across the sky in a twenty-five thousand year cycle and next thing you know a Pisces is a Gemini.

All I am saying is although we didn’t anticipate it, PART EIGHT is here and we’re going to have to deal with it – meaning PLEASE ENJOY! And afterwards, please send PART ONE, PART TWO, PART THREE, PART FOUR, PART FIVE, PART SIX, and PART SEVEN some love!

The Story So Far…

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Disposable Fiction – The Rabbit’s Last Stand: Part Seven

On November 24, 2017December 8, 2017 By John d'AndrioleIn Fiction, No-Draft Theater, Writing

Part SEVEN?! This is getting out of hand. What was originally started as a lark has come to life and is stomping around the village! Won’t someone spontaneously form a mob to deal with this menace? Grab the pitchforks! The torches! The suspiciously dirty and cinematically decrepit people! Gather and scream crowd murmurs at the monster arrayed before us!

Where was I?

Got it! Is this mess going to be like PART ONE, PART TWO, PART THREE, PART FOUR, PART FIVE, PART SIX, and PART EIGHT, even though there isn’t a PART EIGHT yet? I sure hope so!

The Story So Far…

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The Rabbit’s Last Stand SIDEQUEST – The Short Career of Doug McDuff (Part Three)

On November 22, 2017November 23, 2017 By John d'AndrioleIn No-Draft Theater, Writing

Please read PART ONE and PART TWO to get an idea of what is going on.

She knew he was coming. She was toying with him. He knew this, yet was still determined to move ahead.

He didn’t think he had ever wanted to kill someone so much. Goddamn sock monkeys, staples, nearly getting shot, tripping down the stairs… his neck was still stiff and he had a huge lump on his head. His back was still stinging.

He had laid out all of his weapons on his bed. A Glock 26, a Baretta Nano, a .44, two knives, and a steel garotte. “Damn,” he thought. “I wish I had a dart gun. Or a harpoon!” He laughed a little to himself, imagining a harpoon sticking out of the side of Darlene’s head. And then of her walking through a revolving door.

He was aware of laughing a little too hard at this.

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