by Adam Sifre
Ok American dogs. Here my first story I wrote when I only two days old! Then evil moderator delete me and story go away. Now I three days old. I try to remember.
Once upon time, there was beautiful lady who Kim's mother. She make best Kimchi in all village. When she not making kimchi, she bang away on my Wang, helping Kim Chow keep track of inventory and making sure Spike Lee no steal our stuff. One day, mother playing with my Wang when it broke. Nothing show on Wang screen.
“We need new computer,” she complain. “Maybe get IBM?”
“IBM?” I yell so loud, energy drink counter shake. “You think I shit gold, crazy lady? Where we get bang-bang money for fancy IBM computer?”
Mother start yelling back. Her voice get loud and fast. When Korean woman start shouting, you either shoot them or wait for them to forget and stop yelling. She my mother, so I wait. I go outside and smoke and yell at rats in trash. Then I come back and wait for mother to finish.
Mother mutter. I don't care. I know what come next.
“You go to Suckee Suckee repair. Ask for Lulu. She know how to fix my Wang.
Before mother say anything. I put Wang in her hands and push her out door.
”Hey you!“ I shout at Spike Lee. He hide in back of store long time. ”This no hotel. You buy something or hit road."
All rights reserved.
Found this story floating around in my files. When Authonomy was a thing, I used to pop on as a North Korean racist and submit stories to the flash fiction contests.
Because the goal of good writing should be to enlighten, not offend, I have decided that good writing is not a goal I was meant to pursue.