This week’s The Red Dress Club prompt was to look at a picture and (more or less) just let the story flow. Fiction or nonfiction, word count of 600 or less. Constructive criticism welcomed.
“Shut up, man.” Kyle cocked his head to the side and rubbed his temples with one hand.
“Seriously. Nice move. I’m impressed!”
“Stop busting my balls, Joel” Kyle moaned. “I was running really late this morning.”
“I mean… really? That’s the best you could do?” Joel chuckled.
“DUDE! Get off my ass, ok?”
“I can’t wait for the boss to see this. He’s gonna have a goddamn heart attack.” Joel’s smirk turned into a full smile.
Kyle rested his head in both hands and began rubbing his cheek bones and forehead. Joel continued to laugh to himself and shake his head.
“What’s going on, jackwads? Who’s the fag who decided to bring those girly, pink, fucking doughnuts to the conference with the president of ManCorp this morning? Was that you, Joel? I always knew you were a queermo!” Jamison boomed.
“Quiet your loud ass down!” Marylyn, the boss’s secretary, eyed him with her death stare.
“Oh, go shove some of that curly-q sprinkled homo-dough in that pie hole!” Jamison retorted.
“Up yours, Koslowski!” She spat, giving him the look again.
“Damn it James, you know she just got that lap band thing done, right?” Kyle sighed.
“Whatever. She’s a bit…”
“STOP! Don’t you have to get ready for the presentation?” Kyle gave him an upward nod in the direction of his cubicle.
“HA! Like they’re going to be able to pay attention with those pepto frosted squirrelly cakes glaring at them. Seriously, whose dumb ass idea was it to bring those?” Jamison chortled.
“Yours truly here.” Joel pointed at Kyle with an upturned thumb and smiled even bigger.
“No kidding. Well, well, well—looks like we got ourselves two queermos! Later, Nancy-boys!” Jamison walked toward his cubicle shaking his head.
Kyle stood as the front door to the office swung open. Joel turned to walk toward his cubicle. “You have fun explaining this one. I’m going to go tell the intern he can start moving his stuff into his new cubicle, here. Nice working with you, bro!” he laughed.
“Whatever dude. See you in a few.”
Kyle walked toward the conference room to explain the unfortunate lack of plain, glazed doughnuts at the corner bakery earlier that morning. As he rounded the corner, the boss stood looking at the spread with a quizzical look on his face.
“Sir…” Kyle started.
“Yes, sir, I…”
“Well, sweetheart, better go find yourself a nice apron, ‘cause you’re serving these damn things, not me.” He looked at Kyle and grinned.
Kyle knew the look. He didn’t need the confirmation, but he got it with that smirk. The office ‘bonehead’ award would be in the bag next week. No doubt about it.
The doughnut picture was used under permission via the TRDC site.