Flash fiction on Friday (why not?)

September 12, 2014

I want to share a piece of flash fiction that recently won “Challenge 80” at The Iron Writer, an online writing community centered around friendly competition.

The criteria for “challenges” include a flash-fiction writing prompt of 4 elements, exactly 500 words without the title, and 5 days to complete the work. Four writers compete.

The 4 elements for “Challenge 80” were: Furby, Peel Trident (car), a lost emperor, and Dr. Pepper.

Here’s my flash fiction for the challenge:


Booze Cream

By Colin Burch

Monkey always had these gifts coming in from the endorsements, so sometimes our parties were based upon whatever we could do with a garage full of whatever product.

At the end of last summer, Monkey had an entire slot of his four-car garage full of Dr. Pepper in 12-packs.

I was responsible for figuring out what to do with the Dr. Pepper. A website suggested the “Flamin Fro” – a quarter ounce of Southern Comfort, a quarter ounce of Bacardi 151, and a half ounce of Dr. Pepper. Pour it all into a shot glass. Light it up for 7 seconds and shoot it.


So Monkey invited 80 girls to his house for this party, plus me and Spidey and Strongarm.

“If I’d really wanted you three to get lucky at this shindig,” Monkey said, “I’d have invited three hundred girls. Because you all are 1-percenters.”

I ordered a dozen cases of Southern Comfort and a dozen cases of Bacardi 151. Spidey arranged for the buffet and finger food.

At party time, not one girl showed up.

We started shooting Flamin Fro concoctions in Monkey’s big, open kitchen.

“Hey, guess what showed up today?” Monkey asked. “A case of Emperor’s Irish Cream Liqueur. And it’s heaven on ice cream.”

He ran the circuit from the garage freezer back to the kitchen before we realized the next shot of Flamin Fro had quit flaming.

The Emperor’s Irish Cream on Breyers Vanilla ice cream pushed all the booze and sugar deeper into us. We got thickened up with a gorgeous feeling.

“You know who you are man?” Spidey said. “You’re the Emperor of Booze Cream!”

We laughed until Strongarm spilled a Flamin Fro across the countertop, blue fire spreading for a moment, and then it burned out so we laughed some more.

Monkey went through a guest room to relieve himself in the adjoining bathroom. When he hadn’t come back in a while, I stuck my head in the darkened guest room.

I heard snoring. I went back, sat in the kitchen.

“The Emperor of Booze Cream has already passed out?” Strongarm asked. “Not happening.”

Strongarm got up and lurched to guest bedroom and flicked the light switch.

“It’s a Furby,” he said.

Spidey and I had no clue.

“One of his Furbys is snoring,” Strongarm said.

The room had a bookshelf full of Furbys. In the guest room.

Monkey wasn’t in the garage, either, but the doors were open. A collectable car was missing, too.

“The Peel Trident,” Strongarm said.

We looked up the long driveway. Before a turn, we could see the Peel Trident in front of a tree.

We got there and saw the Peel Trident had not been parked but had smashed into the dogwood.

No Monkey. No blood. No crack on the bubble-like windshield. Nothing like tracks in the night’s dewy grass.

Monkey just vanished. Spidey, Strongarm and I have been here for three days. The cops have crawled everywhere. The Emperor of Booze Cream is gone.



One Response to “Flash fiction on Friday (why not?)”

  1. Robert Pimm Says:

    I thought this was a terrific and enjoyable story and was instantly immersed in the offbeat and weirdly attractive world of the characters. Thanks for brightening up my day over here in Turkey.

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