I finally pushed my first short story to Kindle. Two Stories in One: Super Bad Hair Day, and The Poet and the Supersplainer! Two stories for a dollar, such a deal!
Take a look, enjoy a read, and write a good review. (I’d rather be compared to Stan Lee than Hemingway.)
Here are a couple excerpts.
First, an excerpt from Super Bad Hair Day!
THE STREET BEFORE THE BANK. 3:49 P.M.
Super Holly was a double-mitted baseball catcher fielding high and outside pitches, her giant telekinetic hands scooping up flying, flailing cops before they splashed into the ocean or splatted on buildings. She set them down behind the surrounding police line and whirled to face the jerk at ground zero. “You lumbering lummox! You coulda killed them!”
Harry puffed out his chest like he owned the road. Seven feet tall, five feet wide, a musclebound brick wall with a matching I.Q. Tree trunk arms and legs. Battleship armor pectorals. Cauldron of a belly. Moon of a head fronted by a stupidly pleased face. Close-cropped hair so no one could grab it during fights, he picked a lot of those. Torn white shirt falling off. Ripped black pants thankfully staying on. No shoes or socks on those fee-fie-foe-fum feet.
He laughed like a burping foghorn. “BUH-WAH HAW HAW! HARRY HURL PUNY COPS!”
BANG! A young cop shot Harry in the mouth.
PAH-TOOEY! Harry spat the bullet back.
DOINK! It hit the cop on the forehead and knocked him out cold. PLOP!
An older cop shook his head. “Damn rookie.”
Harry looked down his nose at Holly. “HARRY GONNA ROB BANK! GONNA GRAB MONEY, GET A GIRLFRIEND, BUY TEN POUND STEAK, AND NOT LEAVE TIP! BUT NOW HARRY LEAVE BIG FAT FOOTPRINTS ON YELLOW HAIR’S BIG FAT—”
“Talk to the hands!” yelled Holly before Harry said an unwelcome B-word. She punched twice. Two bowling-ball-size blue fists cannonballed at Harry’s big fat mouth.
And missed because Harry had bent way, way back like a hippo doing the limbo. When had he learned to do THAT?
KERR-RUNCH! SKKKKKTT! A parked car behind Harry had skidded onto the sidewalk, its driver-side door caved in. Holly grit her teeth. Good thing her super-job had liability insurance.
“BAH-WAH HAW HAW! YELLOW HAIR MISS!” Harry stuck out his tongue at Holly: “NNNNN!”
Holly boxer-posed, she was fine with up close and personal. “Fine! You wanna rob the bank, you gotta go through me!”
Harry stomped toward Holly like an elephant. Then he winced, like a tiny thought had burst in his B.B. of a brain. He stopped next to a heap of fresh asphalt. He crossed his arms and defiantly glared at Holly. “NO.”
Holly kept her guard up. “What do you mean, no?”
Harry lifted his chin. “HARRY NOT LISTEN TO YELLOW HAIR. YELLOW HAIR JUST A GIRL.” He snorted, a derisive truck backfiring. “LITTLE GIRLY GIRL. PUNY. TINY. EXCEPT …” His eyes found Holly’s chest. And widened. “WHERE SHE BIG AND ROUND.”
Holly’s intestines curdled. She closed her mouth in time to stop her jaw from dropping past her knees. Oh, no. Please, no. Not him. Anybody but him.
Harry’s head bobbled as he rollercoastered his leer over Holly’s every curve. “YUM, YUM! HARRY LIKE WHAT HE SEE! LONG LEGS! SMALL WAIST! BIG CHEST! WANNA DATE?”
Holly shuddered, it felt like Harry’s eyes had left a slimy slug trail all over her. “Ew! No!”
“YELLOW HAIR LIKE BIG MUSCLE?” Harry bodybuilder-posed and flexed his biceps with a base drum sound: BOM, BOM! “CUMMERE AND GIVE HARRY A LITTLE SMACK! KISSY, KISSY!” He smacked his lips, sounding like a toilet plunger working on a clog.
A few cops stifled laughter. Paparazzi zoomed their lenses.
Holly gagged. “Stop that!” She upped her boxer stance to heavyweight. “Or I’ll give you a smack, all right!”
“WHY DON’T YELLOW HAIR MAKE HARRY STOP? IS YELLOW HAIR, UHHH, YELLOW? BAH-WAH HAW HAW!” Harry blew a motorcycle-revving super-raspberry: “BBBBBTTTHHHHHPPPPP, BBBPPPP, BBBPPPP, BBBTHHHPPPPPP!”
Bullseye. Holly’s face tried to crawl out from under a pint of super spittle. Gasping, trembling, she wiped—gross, gross, GROSS!—and flicked gooey saliva off her hand—ew, ew, EW! Her steely muscles trembled. Her telekinesis quaked road and atmosphere to make Darth Vader jealous. Inside her mind, she composed, Get on your knees, hands behind your head, and … OH, THE HECK WITH IT! Out of her mouth, she roared, “Mff, glerk, snrt, RRRRRAAWLLL!“
She flew at Harry, rocketing her fist at his fat face as …
LASH’S PLACE. 4:48 P.M.
“… steam rocketed out her nose!” Holly sighed. “That happens now when I get really mad.”
Lash toweled her head. “Maybe you shoulda asked yourself why Harry was hitting on you instead of hitting you.”
And second, an excerpt from The Poet and the Supersplainer!
Holly jabbed and kicked, snarled and growled, and missed, MISSED, MISSED! “Lemme land just one blow, you … you …” Insults boiled in Holly’s throat. She swallowed them and spat out the nastiest of all. “You William Topaz McGonagall clone!”
The Karate Queen reared back like a cobra and hissed. So, she knew of the worst poet in history! But her mongoose-fast hands continued to parry Holly’s every blow. Then she yawned. “Bored now.” She jabbed Holly’s right arm, leg, and ear. “Sore now?”
Invisible porcupines back-scratched Holly’s right limbs, which flopped into limp, wet noodle numbness. Holly backed off and levitated to keep from tipping over. “What the heck was THAT?”
The Karate Queen bowed deeply. “I struck your nerve clusters with super-chi power. You’ll throw no right hooks for about an hour.”
Cal sounded angry and heartbroken. “I calcualte fifty-three minutes, fourteen—” BZZZPP!
Holly’s earphone fell out and shattered on the floor. She silently mouthed at the Karate Queen, Thank you. She spoke aloud, turning toward the auditorium seats. “You win, Cal. Let’s switch.”
A dark shadow turned its back upon seven whimpering ninjas. They shuddered in unison at the FFFLOOOFFF of its dark shadowy cape.
Holly floated away from the Queen and toward the ninjas. As Cal somersault-leaped onto the stage, he slapped something onto Holly’s face.
Oh no, no, NO! The Apricot Goggles activated. Cal’s cowled, transparent face zoomed into Holly’s vision, a ghostly Batman head. “Testing, testing.”
Holly’s right limbs wobbled as she floated before the ninjas. “No advice, Cal, I can clobber minions with one arm tied behind—” Wait. She was one-armed already.
She glanced at the stage, where the dark-caped man and the white-robed woman were dueling propellers. She asked, “Cal, are you all right?”
“I did not utilize my Intellecta-gun, I calculate a 98.9 probability that you’d catch the projectiles and … I’m fine, Holly. Finish the ninjas. I’ll have her checkmated in 31.8 seconds.” His cowled, floating face in Holly’s goggles was Batman-grim. “Madam, keep your guard up on your left.”
Holly sighed. Always the teacher. She turned to the ninjas and shook her left fist. “I can bench-press an army tank with one hand. So—”
A ninja grabbed his head. “Ow! Your telekinesis!” He fell sprawling into an auditorium seat and shut his eyes. “It knocked me out!”
Huh? But Holly hadn’t … Oh! Who said henchmen were dumb?
The remaining ninjas pratfalled onto the floor and into auditorium seats like dominoes:THUD PLOP THUMP WHUMP PLOP PLOP! A flat-on-his-back ninja looked hopefully up at Holly. “Um, we’ll just lie here now?”
Holly lowered her fist and smiled benignly. “Sure, boys, take it easy.” Then a gasp turned her blood to ice.
Cal’s floating fearful face choked out, “Can’t move … due to unexpected brain-numbing super-karate blow!”
A victorious villainess went opera singer! “Lady kung-fu beats male kung-fu!”
Holly spun toward the stage, hissing at phantom razors slicing her right side.
Cal stood statue rigid. Karate Queen stroked his cheek with one finger, licked her lips, and purred into Cal’s face, “A better henchman I do crave! Prepare to become my lust-soaked slave!”
Holly freight-trained at the Karate Queen like a blonde missile with rubber right-side fins. “KEEP AWAY FROM HIM!”
First eyeblink: Karate Queen ducked a cannonballing telekinetic left fist! Second eyeblink: She parried a left-leg kick that could have shattered a safe! Third eyeblink: She slipped behind Holly!
A million icicles exploded from Holly’s spine and shrapnelled throughout her body. The floor swung up and clubbed her face. Her beaky super-nose dug a divot into the hardwood stage floor.
Holly tried to roll over. All lines from her brain to her body were tingly-numb busy. Except her face. She could only move her face. She moved her eyebrows together, moved her lips back to expose grinding teeth, and moved her face in every way she could think of to show that her blood was boiling.
The Karate Queen cooed, “Time you faced your utter defeat, only heartache shall you reap!” Like an amorous caveman, she grabbed Holly by her long blonde locks and dragged her to the front row of the auditorium. Holly could hear her body bump on the floor, but she could not feel it and she could not MOVE!
The happlily humming queen threw Holly’s dishrag body onto a front-and-center auditorium chair. She gently adjusted Holly’s posture, was she being polite? No, that vicious vixen was making sure that Holly had a perfect view of Cal! Holly locked her eyes on the villainess and growled like a rabid dog on an unbreakable chain.
The queen sweetly smiled down at her handiwork. “If looks could kill, I’d be sixty feet under. Now watch me tear his soul asunder.” She slinked to the stage, a seductive lioness about to dine.
Holly wished with all her soul that she had heat vision, or freezing breath, or even projectile snot! But no. Just super-strength, super-toughness, super-telekinesis, super-healing that was not kicking in, and … flight! She willed herself to fly, fly, fly … she rose … and plopped back into the chair. DAMMIT, DAMMIT, DAMMIT!
Chris Jobz slid on his knees toward his Queen and handed the A-phone to her. “An unencrypted gift for my goddess.”
The Queen pocketed the phone and stilled Jobz’s lovesick murmuring with a touch of her finger on his lips. She grabbed Cal’s head like a cat grabbing a mouse. Her ruby red lips glowed. “My darling, now taste my super-karate kiss! Watch closely Holly, this you don’t wanna miss!” She glommed hungrily into Cal’s mouth.
Cal’s floating face before Holly went desperate. “Mfff … foul temptrefff … won’t … luf you … luf … Holly … luf … luf …” The light in his eyes dimmed.
So weak! So helpless! SO MAD!!! Steam firehosed from Holly’s nose! She blinked. Her superpower was still there! But her telekinesis worked through pantomime, what the heck could she do, super-pout at the queen— THAT’S IT! But she had to time it JUST RIGHT! She yelled, “Hey, you stuck-up, mousey-brown, Xena-wanna-be! My graphic novel is a national bestseller, while your puny poems wouldn’t last five seconds in my writer’s critique group!”
The Karate Queen jerked head-to-toe, breaking the kiss. She turned her furious face toward Holly.