Tuesday, May 15, 2012

Short Humor Story

Mashed Potatoes
Tuesday, May 15, 2012
Sid Clemson, a battle hardened warrior, was left with little to occupy his time after the world's battles ceased calling. Outside his duties as a mercenary, he felt lost and wherever he happened to be, he often found himself in trouble with the local heat.

"He was born in the wrong century," both his friends and his foes often lamented when they'd hear of his troubles with the law.

And they were right. A man of Sid's build and desire to fight never could find a place to "fit in" in today's cosmopolitan culture.

But the law found a place for him. The guard tossed him down in his cell where society might finally forget all about him. He lay on the cold cell floor he had been sentenced to without any legal process. Only a third-world law man with a chip on his shoulder and his weaselly crony knew where he was now.

Or so he thought.

"What are you in for?" A faceless voice carried only a few feet from the darkened corner of the cell and yet, it seemed to come from another corner of the globe from a different era. But Sid's eyes still needed adjusting to the dark, so he couldn't be sure.

"Me? I'm in here for a lifetime of anger and frustration. An offense against world decency. The law only needed a reason to pick me up."

The stranger, amused, asked, "So why did they?"

Sid looked up, "I gave them a reason."

When the stranger reached his hand out to help Sid up, he was identified as Sid's partner in merc work from long ago, Huck Steamboat. The greeting was as touching of a moment either of them ever felt.

"Old habits die hard," Huck said, remembering all their times together.

"And so do aliens," A third voice from the past chimed in.

A general stepped out of the shadows. The man who used to send the men into combat zones and say "goodbye forever."

"Colonel!" they said in unison.

"Ah-ahh," he indicated the star. "It's 'general' now."

"That's right, I heard," Huck said. "You were promoted after orchestrating the capture of a boat load of pirates."

"Try, a 'butt load' of pirates," the general said.

"So what's all this I hear about aliens?" Sid asked.

"Oh, they're after the white house again. This time it's something to do with secret missiles we planted on Mars."

"Mars, the God of War," Sid and Huck observed.

"More like Governor of War," the general said. "I'm the God of War! And I'm leading an army of space commandos to annihilate the little green spuds."

"General," Huck said. "They're a peaceful race."

"My point exactly. They'll never see it coming. Now let's go mash some potatoes for Mother Earth!"

"Mother Earth!" They cheered and put their fists up and fought their way out of the prison.

Upon reaching the distant, but not impossibly far, planet of Mars, the commandos stormed in like they planned on leaving nothing but boot prints on the ground. But one of the missiles misfired and caused an explosion so big, it likely killed all of the space commandos. But, if the explosion didn't kill all of them, it likely left an open to a higher budget sequel with more missiles.

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