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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Humor  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: October 07, 2016

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Submitted: October 07, 2016

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Chapter 1

What’s the difference between this evening, and a good time? My jokes.

A crumpled up wad of paper flew across the room and bounced off the rim of a small plastic waste repository.

“No, that’s still not right,” a shaky and tired Markus groaned as he ran his claws through his hair.

Usually I can at least force myself to do a sympathy laugh, he complained until a loud disturbance from the other side of the door caught the attention of his ears. Within a few minutes his nose caught an awful smell.

Damnit he’s here again but I still have time before my act tonight. What could he possibly need?

In one fell thrust the preliminary outside gate defense was down. Markus knew there was not much time to bail, but he had to take a chance for the slither of hope that he might keep his fur. Summoning all of the strength of his brave grey wolf lineage, he leaped out of his seat and valiantly into the closet. However, he was too late.

“I’m going to kill this kid! He has taken advantage of me for the last time!” The voice itself seemed like it could have torn through the entire house leaving Markus as defenseless as little punching bag. After what seemed like exactly 11 seconds, the door handle snapped off and in came a very angry Mr. Goober.  With many seconds of haste, and a few moments of flash back, he poked his snout in between the door and the frame and took a quick sniff to see if the intruders were going to stay for the night. Not long after probing did he realize his mistake; never smell a Goober. The Goobers are literal boars are about as boorish a fur could get, with many hygienic codes broken within initial eye contact with them.

Recoiling from the repugnant smell, Markus realized there was only one way out this situation, to go through the closet door, *Cough* and maybe talk to Mr. Goober *Cough*.

Steady Mark, do you want to lose a gig by accepting your pink slip or lose your life to the smell.

One paw at a time, Markus opened, and stepped out of, the door and into the open with nothing but the clothes on his back to save him.

“There you are Mr.! Now I have a bone to pick with you and your jokes, to put it simply I CAN’T HAVE THEM! They are like leeches draining the life away from the decent folk who want good comedy and they get tis sham! I gave you 2 chances already and each time you somehow you manage to pull in fewer customers than before! Consider yourself lucky that were weren’t on welfare sooner!”

Mr. Goober stormed back into the original Goober Comedy Club car from the 60’s and chugged away into the distance until he disappeared behind a wall of smog, hopefully never to be seen again.

 

 


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