Idiot Bag

Predator Press

[Mr I]

“10,000 Pounds of Thrush?,” I says. “Where’d you come up with that crap?”

“I do not question THE BAG,” says LOBO. "Ever."

“The bag? What bag?”

“The bag of words I pull from when I’m trying to come up with a title.”

“Every time you need a title, you pull words at random? I call bullshit.”

“Behold!" says LOBO, thumping a heavy sack on his cluttered desk. “Bask in the splendor, ye nonbeliever.”

“Does it work?”

“Try it out,” says the screwball. “What kind of story are you working on?”

“Let’s say a love story.”

"You pansy."

"What?"

"I said 'Oooh, fancy'."

LOBO closes his eyes, as if in a trance.

“Oh for God’s sake--“

“Silence!” LOBO demands. “Oh, mighty and wise bag. Divulge unto us your creative genius, that of which we are so devoided!”

He pulls out two slips of paper, “The title of your romance epic shall henceforth be named,” he opens his hand, “Ox Nuts.”

“Ox Nuts.”

“Yes, Ox Nuts.”

“Well, let's see if this thing will help me with a title for my next post ...”

Comments

Popular Posts