Billy, The Human Flag

(This story comes to us from Jeremy Balli in Modesto, CA)

Billy used to weigh 600 lbs. and his mom told him "Baby, you're morbidly obese.” to which he replied, "What's so morbid about it?"

A cheeky remark like that cost him big time, no pun intended. His mom, normally a nice woman, locked him in the garage with a broken Buick.

The Buick, wasting away with him, became petrified after 10 years of neglect. He emerged from the garage a human flag, weighing 140 lbs.

His skin was stretched so that on a windy day, it waved in the air and all of the neighborhood cats put their paws to their heads in salute.

Often, his skin would lead and his legs would trip over them. Boy did his mom feel foolish, locking him away to starve. Her bad i suppose.

He was always a very lonely boy and he cried to me and said "you're the only friend I have in the world."

I thought the world must be a small place if i'm the only friend in it. I suggested surgery to rid himself of the excess skin. He did it.

The doctors cut the excess skin and used it to make tents at the old shanty town just north of home where the homeless were grateful.

He had stretch marks. I glanced at him in the lockeroom and saw that his body resembled a freeway; with off-ramps, on-ramps and junctions.

Billy pointed to his left nipple. "That's my house." I was saddened but also relieved that, at last, Billy had become useful.

Webmaster's Comment.

Just a note to let you know that I will be splitting the site into 2 categories from now on: Perfect 1140's & Near Misses. Perfect 1140's will be stories that use exactly 1140 characters, and Near Misses will be stories that come very close. Also I have my first submission from someone else that I will be posting either later tonight or tomorrow, so stay tuned, you'll love it!

The Happy Heister

Have you ever stolen anything? I have. Lots of things. Sometimes it's just small things like a candy bar or a salt shaker. Or a pinkie ring.

Sometimes it's big things like a refrigerator or a television. Once I stole an army tank and drove it on the freeway while the cops watched.

I never sell the things I steal; I don't need the money. I have storage sheds full of items that aren't mine hidden around my immense manor.

I have no motive for stealing other than the act itself pleases me, sort of like how a dancer feels after completing a terrific pas de deux.

I never thieve impulsively, because the beauty is in the planning. There is so much to consider in each case that it must be perfectly done.

I've watched households for weeks to learn their schedules. I've studied numerous alarm systems. I have maps of all the city sewers at home.

I find it amusing to invade gated communities and take numbers off a house or a remote control from a sofa or a battery from an alarm clock.

I almost got caught stealing an ice cream truck once. It was around one a.m. and I got stopped by a cop, but he just wanted some soft serve.

If my friends ever found out I'd be ostracized. High society only approves of white-collar cons and schemers, not outlaw collectors like me.

But to resist the urge would be to deny my very self. This is who I am, a jokester hijacker, a prankish purloiner, a laughing larcenist. Me.

Superman's My Kryptonite.

It's harder than you think to be the secret gay lover of a man with a secret identity, but I couldn't have known that when I first met Dion.

I probably wouldn't have known of his mutation, or as he likes to say, superpowers, if I hadn't crept into his house that night 3 years ago.

We had been dating about two months and I wanted to surprise him by having a nice dinner waiting for him when he came home. Not a good idea.

I came in through an open window and found him not at his day job, but in his room shedding his skin. He saw me when I puked in the doorway.

Once you get past the nausea-inducing process of the change it can be really fun dating a guy with the ability to look like anyone on earth.

It's not all good though. I never get to meet his friends The Hero Herd, and I get jealous. He's always with guys in spandex and hot bodies.

And just once I'd like a shout out in a press release after he catches a crook. You know, like, this one's for Patrick, the love of my life.

There is one person who knows, his arch-nemesis The Gargoyle. He kidnapped me once. He was actually very civil, wine and cheese in the cell.

Dion rescued me of course, but I had to pretend not to know him after the news showed up. And now The Gargoyle is in some supervillian jail.

I'm mostly happy. I may never meet his mother or have his name, but I'm working on a 3-way with The Javelin who I hear is very well endowed.

Suicide is Painless.

"Pull the trigger," she whined. I looked at the gun in my hand and noticed it's weight for the first time. "You promised." She had me there.

Trust me when I say that her proposal of a suicide pact was not the first time I realized she was crazed. I noticed that on the fourth date.

We were at my corner bar and all was well, maybe she had had a little too much to drink. Or more probably she was trying to make me jealous.

Either way, that poor chap's head never needed to meet a wine bottle on those terms. If only I wasn't hooked on her hope diamond of vaginas.

I wasn't the kind of guy who would stick around for that kind of thing, but this type of anatomical perfection comes by once in a lifetime.

I always knew there was a reason I didn't introduce her to my mother. I thought the suicide pact was a joke. Then, slut broke out the guns.

Two guns, to be exact. I reluctantly took one from her, my laughter dying quickly. This was unexpected. I'm a prick for not escaping sooner.

And now, must I die for the sin of loving her pussy? Seems cruel. But perhaps she's given me an out. Maybe not. Her plan: I shoot her first.

I get to live, but she's dead and I murdered her so I live the rest of my days in prison. Or I shoot myself and- the end. Oh wait, new plan.

Now we'll both shoot on the count of three. Despite everything, she really is just a romantic at heart. Here goes. One..two- whoops. My bad.