Janet Flash: Classic Rock

by Michael Seese

Taking a bit of a hiatus from the media-crazy world around us, agent Janet Reid unplugged for a bit of a breather. Upon her return, she said:

I've gotten a LOT of reading done these past few weeks, and I'm planning a post with a  roundup of requests, queries etc. later in December.  In the meantime, let's have a flash fiction contest to celebrate the endurance of the snot green sofa (where I do my reading.)

So for last week's contest, we were asked to write a 100-word story using:

green
sofa
slack
squint
tea 

Starting with "sofa," I came up with "Classic Rock," a title I absolutely hate. But I didn't want the name of the story to give anything away.


"I can make you a star, sweetie. But first..."

"Whatever it takes," she teased, lying back on the sofa, flattening it.

"Cut!" I yelled.

"I simply can't work like this," Rex whined, throwing up his tiny arms.

I agree not everything had gone as planned. Indeed, this quintessential labor of love of mine appeared headed for divorce. On paper, it looked perfect; in reality, it's lacking a plot, competent actors, and passion.

"Perhaps I could lose weight," Vela offered.

Not before the asteroid hits, I thought. Some movies simply should not be made. Apparently "Jurassic Tart" is one of them.

There is a bit of an inside joke where. Whenever Janet is speaking of various literary genres, she'll say something like, "Mystery, romance, or dino porn." So I thought I would give her the latter. 

As of the time I wrote this, she had announced the finalists, but not the winner. Her comment about mine:

After I stop laughing, I will be able to tell you how much I love Michael Seese's pun-ch lines.

I'm looking forward to the final results.