Have you ever predicted something ridiculous and had it come true? A couple of weeks ago, I hinted at possible collusion between our fearless leader and her Canadian cohort (neither of whom are Trump fans).
Apparently, my comment started a war of words between our two countries. A Trump advisor said, “There’s a special place in Hell for Justin Trudeau.” The implication here is that the current U.S. administration has an intimate connection with the Netherworld, and can reserve “special accommodations” for young, dashingly handsome leaders who have nice hair. This calls for a wall—as soon as the Canadians can empty enough Molson bottles to erect one.
If you’re new to Friday Flash Fiction, our double-naught spy who encrypts secret messages in 100 word posts is Rosa Klebb Wisoff-Fields. If you’d like to participate in this exercise of madness, head over to her blog for step-by-step instructions. To view the ensemble of practicing fic-titioners in the writers in FFF Hollywood Squares Authors Block click here.
Justin, have you noticed that strange bird outside our window?
Do you mean the one with the audio receptor attached to its head, Sophie?
Oh, I thought that was a plume.
No, the bird’s a drone. And those beady little eyes are cameras.
Who would be spying on us?
I suspect it’s our neighbor, Snidely Badhair.
What do you think he’s after? Classified information? Intelligence gathering?
No, although he could use some intelligence. We have our own bird spy—a loon.
What have you learned?
Nothing. When we ask him to repeat what he heard he just starts laughing.
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Or the three people I guilted into reading this blog, whatever.
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