There Ain't No Pleasin' You

"You're doing it bloody wrong!"
He suspected it wasn't being done exactly correctly, but he'd run through the instructions he'd been given. It might have been wrong, but he was doing it the way he'd been told to.
He changed his approach and started to do it the opposite way to which he'd been told.
"You're still doing it bloody wrong!"
He downed tools and headed towards the sunset.

Cinema

The kids in the back row talked and laughed and used their phones.
It annoyed him, but it was only at the local adverts part of the programme. He didn't care if he couldn't properly hear about double glazing or taxi companies, but they'd better shut up when the trailers started.
The trailers began. The talking and laughter continued.
His patience wore out.
Words were said and physical actions were exercised. He was asked, but really told, to leave.

Note

"Look at this," he enthused.
"What have you got there?" his friend asked.
"It's one of those new five pound notes."
"Let's see."
He took it from his friend and gave it a cursory inspection.
"What do you think?"
"I don't like it."
"Why?"
"Because Churchill is on it."
"But he's the greatest ever Brit. A survey said so."
"What? He was a bully and a racist, a despicable shit of a man."
He punched his friend in the face, took the money and walked away.

Bastards

The noise, yet again.
Every night it started at six o'clock and continued until nine.
Screaming, screeching, hollering, generally being up to no good, but causing a disturbance for everyone that lived within a half mile radius of the park.
He sat and listened to the annoyance yet again and hoped, prayed that the mad man in North Korea would press the button.

Socks

There were twenty six socks in his drawer, but none of them formed a perfect pair. Sure, there were ones which originally came from the same packet, but they had been washed a few times more and were less black and more dark grey than their counterparts and some had shrunk a little bit so that none matched exactly.
He was baffled as to why this was.
Downstairs, the washing machine smiled inwardly as it felt the weight of twenty six odd socks nestling beneath its drum.

Session

The beer flowed as it always did at these occasions, in abundance.
It might as well flow from the tap and straight into a toilet, cutting out the middle man, he thought and then snorted at how witty he perceived himself to be.
At the thought of this he drained his drink and then went to the toilet. Again.
While he was in there everyone he thought was his friend buggered off to another bar and left him stranded.

Sideboard

The sideboard had fascinated him when he was a child. He'd thought it was a magic alternative universe of fun that would one day make his life complete. It was always the focal point of his parents' parties and everyone smiled all the time at those.
Now it was his, the nostalgia dust having settled, it wasn't the same.
It was just a normal sideboard with a massive old radio screwed inside one cupboard and a few bottles of peculiar foreign alcohol in the other.
He opened one of the bottles and took a swig. He spat it out immediately.
He would never undertand his parents' generation.

Tide

He sat on the beach, encapsulated by the waves. It was soothing and helped him get over the pain of recent times.
Before he knew it the tide was on its way in.
He was cut off. It was drawing closer and he was in a state of panic.
He was backed up to the cliff and his feet were beginning to get wet.
After fifteen minutes the water was up to chest height and he was being battered against the rock.
His attempt to swim out was futile.
He was pounded into the cliff wall like one of those rubber spiders you used to get when we were kids that you threw against the wall and it climbed down it - remember them?

Sausage and Eggs

He sat waiting patiently.
"FULL BREAKFAST?" yelled the burly chef who would have been smoking as he brought out the plate if it was still allowed.
A hand went up by the window and the plate was delivered.
Two minutes passed.
 "BACON SANDWICH?"
"Here," said a young woman.
Didn't she come in after me? thought the man.
Fifteen minutes passed. Four more "FULL BREAKFASTS", two "BACON SANDWICHES"and even an "EGGS BENEDICT", but no "SAUSAGE AND EGGS".
The man went to the counter.
"Where's my breakfast?" he asked.
The woman went into the kitchen to enquire.
She returned soon after.
"No sausages," she explained.
"I'll have my money back then."
"No can do."
"Why not?"
"He's making yours now."
"Without sausages?"
"That's right."
"So just eggs then?"
"Yes."
He sat down and left a scathing review on TripAdvisor.

Rabbit

"Whatcha got there, Chas?"
"Well, Dave, it's a bleedin' letter, innit?"
Dave did indeed hold a letter in his hand, although it wasn't bleeding.
"What does it say?"
"It's from a supermarket."
"Special offers?"
"No, it's more of a cease and desist thing, innit?"
It was phrased as a question, but he wasn't really asking.
"Have a butcher's."
He passed it to Dave for him to read.
"I don't fackin' Adam and Eve it," he said.
"False advertising, they say."
"Are they 'avin' a bleedin' Turkish?"
"Apparently not. They don't sell rabbits and never 'ave."
"We'll 'ave to change the bleedin' song."

Quids

"How much is this?"
"A pound."
"And how much is this?"
She sighed.
"That's also a pound."
"What about this?"
"Did you see the name of the shop before you came in?"
"Yes."
"And what is it?"
"Everything Costs a Quid."
"So how much do you think everything costs?"
"A pound?"
"Exactly."
He picked up a pack of rolls of parcel tape and headed for the till.
The cashier scanned them.
"That's 99p please."
The man frowned.

Children

"Fifty people were killed, six of them children," announced the newsreader as she wore a solemn expression.
She thought for a moment.
"You know what? Why do we say that?"
She could hear her producer's voice in her ear, but that wasn't going to stop her. She tore out the ear piece.
"It's a tragedy, but do did kids make it any worse? No, they don't. Fifty people are dead. That's fifty people who won't be going home. They're all someone's son, daughter, brother or sister."
The camerman looked at her and pleaded her to stop with his eyes.
"It's not all about children."
She stood and left the cameraman filming an empty desk.

The River

"Help!"
He was walking along the riverbank when he heard the shout.
A woman was caught in the current, not waving but drowning.
"Hang on," he called back, as if hanging on was an option.
He found a branch on the ground that had recently snapped off a tree. He grasped it and extended it out towards the woman who gripped the other hand with one hand.
She was stronger than he was and before he knew it he was also in the drink.
"Now what?" he asked as they were both swept downstream.

Judgement

"It's time," the man told him.
His last meal hadn't tasted as good as he thought it would.

Class

None of them liked the teacher. He was strict and they were mostly scared of him.
This led to the children having a meeting at breaktime.
"We need to get rid of him," one suggested.
"How?" asked another.
"I've got an idea," said a third, heading for the staff car park.
That evening the teacher crashed his car on the way home as his brakes failed. There was no reason for the police to suspect foul play even though that was exactly what it was.
The six year olds were so devious.

Shots

Daniel walked into the pub.
"Vodka," he said and slapped a five pound note on to the bar.
The barman poured the drink, took the money and gave Daniel his change.
He downed it.
"Vodka," he said again and placed another five pound note on the bar.
The ritual was repeated 20 more times and then Daniel left the pub. He walked in a straight line and the barman was quite impressed. So much vodka in half an hour would knock most people out.
Daniel awoke the following morning on his couch. His head pounded and he'd been sick on himself and the carpet.
There was an absolute mountain of assorted coins on the coffee table.

Fashion

He always wore peculiar outfits. People weren't sure if he was a genius or a fool, but today made most believe the latter.
He was wearing a wetsuit and had a fox on his head. An actual, living, breathing fox.
People he walked past stopped and stared; they chuckled and whispered about him as he flounced down the road.
The famous fashion designer saw him and nodded approval. He went home immediately and put on a wetsuit and stuck a raccoon on his head.

Idols

She'd waited in line for two and a half hours in the rain just to see him and get him to sign the book. She had his latest novel in her hand - a brand new hardback copy.
She reached the front of the queue.
"I'm so happy to finally meet you!" she enthused.
"Who's it for?" he asked.
"Me!"
He frowned at her.
"And you are?"
She laughed nervously.
"Oh, silly me! You don't know who I am."
"Look lady, there are others in line beind you. Don't waste my fucking time with small talk."
She left, went home and packed up all the books she owned that he'd written to take to the tip.

Arches

"This burger is terrible."
He held the offending item in his hand. It had one bite out of it and looked absolutely nothing like the giant picture above the counter.
"What's the matter with it?"
The man looked at the burger in his hand and then at the picture.
"The appearance for starters."
"There's nothing wrong with it."
"There's everything wrong with the taste."
"What about the taste?"
"There is none."
"What do you expect?"
The man was shocked.
"Everything we sell is shit. It's all mass-produced crap and they pay us slave trade wages to sell the bloody stuff."
The man placed the burger on the counter and walked away. The picture of the clown by the door smirked at him as he left.

Butcher

"Morning Jeff," said a customer.
Jeff was busy chopping something or other with his back to the customers.
"Morning."
The young apprentice served the man.
The queue decreased slowly as the customers were served.
Everyone just assumed Jeff was filleting pork ready for sale.
Nobody thought that they hadn't seen his wife for a few days.

Amazon

"You know there are still tribes in the Brazilian rainforest that have never had contact with anybody else?"
"Really? That must be awful?"
"Why's that?"
"They probably don't have internet or anything."
"No, they don't and that's what's good."
"Why?"
"They have no idea what mankind have done, what we've achieved."
"That's so sad."
"Maybe, but when we've destroyed everything and killed each other they'll all probably still be there. The last humans."
"They won't have anyone to talk to though."

Two Degrees

The explosion shocked him.
"What was that?" he asked.
"Sir, you just fired a missile."
His hand had touched the button by mistake.
"Oops!"
A ship containing no personnel had just been obliterated.
Another two degrees to the left and he would have destroyed the base and killed hundreds.

Boxes

The boxes on top of the wardrobe had been there for years. This was evidenced by the thick layer of dust which coated them all.
Neither of them remembered what was in the boxes, but they knew it must be something important or they wouldn't have kept them.
There was actually a significant amount of money in one of them. How could they forget that?
The problem was that a small mouse had been living in that box for a few months, unnoticed. All the cash had been shredded by the creature. It lived in a £20,000 box.

Crash

The ocean grew closer and closer through the cockpit window.
The pilot was wrestling with the controls, trying to get at least a shred of control. The plane wouldn't have it though. Absolutely everything had seized. There was nothing to do but brace themselves.
When was the last time this was serviced? thought the pilot as the water neared them at an alarming rate.
There were 500 people behind him and he could hear 500 screams through the door. They were all going to die. All the lifejackets and oxygen in the world weren't going to save them. No plane had ever gone down at sea and produced a survivor.
It was seconds away.
I wish I'd eaten more blancmange, he thought, inexpicably.

Neighbours

The couple next door argued a lot.
Actually to call it arguing was unfair. She yelled at him a lot, but he never gave anything back.
"Why are you doing that?" she would shout at him while he was in the garden.
"You never do anything," she would yell as he fixed his car.
"You're lazy," she would scream as he took the dog out.
When she was struck and killed by a large branch which fell from the oak tree in the back garden, nobody believed it was an accident.
After the police quizzed him for days he returned home. Music was played in the house for the first time.

Lamp

The lamp in the corner of the living room flickered.
The bulb needed changing or maybe there was a loose wire in it?
He neared with the intention of removing the bulb.
It grew brighter and brighter until it was so bright he couldn't look at it.
A powersurge, perhaps?
The brightness died down.
There was another flicker.
He was struck by a peculiar idea.
"Are you trying to tell me something?" he asked.
The light flickered again.
He laughed.
"Ok. I don't speak light. What are you trying to tell me?"
The bulb flickered and then grew brighter than it had before.
He shielded his eyes.
Then everything went dark.

The Letter

She heard the letterbox clatter and then a light slap as the post fell to the mat in the hallway.
She went and retrieved her mail and returned to the kitchen table. There were four items. Three were adverts and one was a letter.
She looked at the envelope. It was hand-written in writing she didn't recognise and it was addressed to her.
She tore it open and noticed a peculiar sweet smell. Powder spilled from the envelope.
She dipped her finger into it and tasted it without thinking.
She slumped over the table, unconscious within seconds.

Tea

He stood waiting for the kettle to boil. He'd already thrown a teabag and two teaspoons of sugar into his mug. He poured in a dash of milk.
The back door crashed open.
"What the...?"
A burly man in what looked like a leather policeman's uniform handed him a business card.
"Adding the milk before the water. Very serious offence," he said. "This is your first warning."
The burly man turned and left leaving the other man holding the card marked TEA POLICE.

Limiter

"No."
"But why?"
"Because I said so."
This wasn't an actual reason, but it was timeless all the same.
The child slinked off to his bedroom, sulking at being denied sweets yet again. He would show his mother by sneaking downstairs and eating everything that was in the not-so-secret sweet jar on top of the fridge in the middle of the night.
At 2am he crept downstairs to the kitchen and pushed a chair over the floor to the fridge. He climbed on to it and felt around blindly until he touched the jar. He managed to pull it towards himself.
There were no sweets inside, but there was a folded piece of paper.
He took out the paper and opened it. The note was meant for him.
"I said so," it informed him.

Sheets

She was so tired.
The day had taken everything and given nothing and now she was drained, both physically and mentally.
Ascending the stairs felt like someone with no legs or arms climbing Everest. She somehow summoned the strength to make it up all 23 steps.
She dragged herself into the bedroom and switched on the light.
The new sheets were folded neatly at the bottom of the bed, waiting to be put in place.
It was the worst day ever.