FF – Magic Stoner Donkeyland
Here is my story for Friday Fictioneers, hosted by Rochelle. The photo was contributed by J. Hardy Carroll.
It’s all a bit mad and has a beginning, a middle and an end (purely because I put “The End” at the end). It sort of starts with the photo, takes a bit of a left turn in the middle and then shoots off at a tangent at the end 🙂 .
Warning – may contain drug references!

Copyright J. Hardy Carroll
“Look! Puff the Magic Donkey.”
“Surely it’s ‘Puff the Magic Dragon’?”
“I can’t draw dragons. But he’s still magic. Look!”
The donkey leapt from the page and appeared on the pavement! His eyes were wide and unfocussed and he appeared a trifle unsteady on his hooves.
“Hi, Puff.”
Puff coughed a cloud of sweet-smelling smoke. “Dude,” he hee-hawed, wandering dazedly out into traffic.
Meanwhile, in Magic Donkeyland HQ, Stoner-General Donkey awaited news from his invasion scout, Stoner-Corporal Puff – a report fated never to arrive, after stoned-out-of-his-brain Puff’s close encounter with the Number 19 bus from Islington.
Invasion aborted!
The End.
FF – Skool Daze
Here is my story for Friday Fictioneers, hosted by Rochelle. She also provided this week’s photo.

Copyright Rochelle Wisoff-Fields
The starting pistol fires! He dives into the water – Geoff Bullet, defending Olympic champion. But… something’s wrong! Bright light, waves… not a pool, a huge lake! A random inter-dimensional portal…? Geoff kicks hard for shore… so far, so very far, muscles like lead, must… keep… going…
“Geoffrey! Stop thrashing around, get out of the pool and get changed! The rest of the class is already on the bus.”
“Yes, Sir, sorry, Sir…”
Caught by a vicious deadly monster, Geoff Bullet is hauled from the water and forced into a lifetime of slavery in the notorious Algebra Mines of the planet Arithmeticita…
FF – Snowflake Patrol
Here is my story for Friday Fictioneers, hosted by Rochelle. This week’s photo was contributed by Jean L. Hays.
I’m thinking this bunch of whingy whiners are never going to be elite troops…

Copyright Jean L. Hays
“Target ahead. Silent protocol.”
“Right-oh, Sarge!”
“Shhh!”
“Jeez.”
“Barbed wire. Snips, now.”
…
“Snips? Anyone?”
…
“Oh, for… slip underneath.”
“…ow! I caught my finger…”
“Shhh!”
“…aw, man, I got cow poo on my uniform.…”
“…I know a good dry cleaner….”
“…what about my finger? I’m bleeding out….”
“…Sarge, I knelt in a puddle, my Mum’s gonna kill me…”
“WILL THE LOT OF YOU SHUT UP?! THEY’RE GONNA HEAR…”
BANG!
“Aw, man. Poor Sarge.”
“…now I’ve got blood on my uniform… blood and poo…”
“This is too stressful. Let’s evac home.”
“…and don’t think you’re coming in the chopper covered in poo…”
FF – Most Wanted!
Here is my even sillier-than-last-week’s story for Friday Fictioneers, hosted by Rochelle. This week’s photo was contributed by Roget Bultot.
Work is mad, I’m doing 11+ hour days, so here’s something I knocked out in my lunch break.

Copyright Roger Bultot
“Newtown’s Most Wanted”, by reporter Tim Pointless
Police are today searching for a band of merciless criminals. Sgt Doughnut from Newtown Constabulary explains:
“They’re roving the streets, cold-bloodedly washing cars without permission, left, right and centre. Left, right and centre!”
I asked Sgt Doughnut why this was such a problem.
“Look at all the suds! You could slip and break a hip! Little bastards. Pardon my French.”
Newtown Constabulary responded with “no comment”, but muttered that “Sgt Doughnut should never have been allowed out near the public, the daft bugger.”
Next week – “Flower Arranging exposé – the dark side of Ikebana”
FF – The Crabs of Crab Bay
Here is my silly story for Friday Fictioneers, hosted by Rochelle. This week’s photo was contributed by Sandra Crook.

Copyright Sandra Crook
The Crabs of Crab Bay saw, at last, their target. Holidaymakers, setting up for a day’s sunbathing.
“Attack, my comrades! Today we taste blood!”
Pouring onto the sand, they charged, pincers snapping.
“Look, Dad, crabs!”
“Mmm, crab meat. Grab the cricket bat!”
The Crabs of Crab Bay milled in terror as the two-legs approached. Field Marshal Crab took charge and, wheeling sharply, with full military discipline, the Crabs of Crab Bay fled the scene strategically withdrew.
Seven Crabs lost their lives that day.
Avenge your fellows! Join up today! Pincer sharpeners provided!
The Crab Bay Defence Force – because Crabs matter












