8thdayfiction

…and on the 8th day, micro fiction was published on some dude's blog.

Your Mama

“Oh yeah? Well…”

And then Johnny went blank. He could feel the sweat pouring down his neck and forehead; now was not the time to go blank.

“Well…um…”

He saw Mitchell out of the corner of his eye. His partner was thrusting his hand towards Johnny and shaking it, biting his lip, looking crazed.

Johnny had no choice. He was stuck. He turned and slapped Mitchell’s outstretched hand.

Mitchell flew into the ring. “Well YOUR Mama’s so dumb she thinks Point Break is a movie about sharpening pencils!”

That was it. The ref declared that quip the knockout blow.

It was the closest they’d ever come to losing, but Johnny and Mitchell had pulled it out and were still the only undefeated tag-team Mama insultors in the country. And with their most recent victory, they had secured themselves a spot in the World Championships in Munich, where they would get to take on the internationally renowned French team of Gilles and Marcel.

They were going to be huge underdogs (which is what you’d call Gilles’s and Marcel’s Mamas if they dressed up as cartoon superhero dogs for Halloween, because they were so fat), but Johnny and Mitchell were psyched to see Europe (which reminds me, Gilles’s and Marcel’s Mamas are so dumb, when someone tells them they’d like to “see Europe”, they get out their balls of twine and show them off).

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