50 Word Fiction Vol. III
Death of a Salesman“Hey, man, I guess we are playing phone tag. I got your email, so did everyone else since you cc’d almost the entire company. Ha-ha-ha! Not necessary, guy, I am your main contact here, just shoot me a ...”
*BANG!*
*FWUMP*
“What? he said to shoot him! So I did!”
This week's challenge is to include some aspect of the sales industry. The nice thing about making up the challenge is I can write what I want, and then issue a challenge I've already met! Next week, someone else can issue the challenge first, if you like. We'll talk about that next week.
Comments
Comments closed on older entries, whenever I get around to it, to avoid spam.As he made his way up the street lugging the vacuum cleaners he was selling, Willy contemplated a life of ease and rest where he needn't plod these avenues to make ends meet. As he approached yet another door, he unwittingly became lunch to the mysterious and clever carnivorous house.
Posted by: Thomas | 22 avril 2005 7h48
If she heard one more sales pitch, she was going to explode, she thought, as she drove up to the drive-thru. She pushed the thought aside, as she ordered, and then, it happened. "Would you like fries with that"? She pulled out her gun, and drove to the window.....BANG!
Posted by: Marie | 22 avril 2005 8h00
drive-thru is one word, uh, right.....???
Posted by: Marie | 22 avril 2005 8h01
it is for you baby!!
i am enjoying all the violent demise of sales people.
Posted by: Jodi | 22 avril 2005 8h53
"Mommy will be right back," she said to her daughter and got out of the car. Walking up the steps, her mind briefly wandered to that unfinished paper on women’s roles in postmodern society. She glanced at her Barbie-playing daughter, who was playing Barbie, and rang the bell. “Avon lady!”
Posted by: arifa | 22 avril 2005 9h20
"Would you like to buy some girl scout cookies?"
No.
Why?
Cause you suck.
You suck.
Your face sucks.
Your butt.
Your mom's butt
Your mom's face's butt.
Shut up.
You shut up.
Your face is shut up
you are
you are
OK, I'll take some tagalongs.
$4 please.
Thanks.
Posted by: Deb | 22 avril 2005 9h44
Continuing the violence and working/cheating off Marie (please note: I'm not remotely suicidal but I think I would be if I had to work the drive-thru for any more than 15 minutes):
OF COURSE they want fries with that. The world is one giant Fat Ass, and it definitely wants fries with that!
Then all I see is the barrel and not the barrel of grease I slam my shin into every day but the barrel of a 9mm. Ah, sweet release!
Posted by: Kay | 22 avril 2005 9h46
having worked at mcdonalds, i can say that there were times when i would have almost felt relief to be shot. rather than remain in their employ one more second.
i'm having trouble typing. my nails are too long for the keyboard on my powerbook.
excellent stories everyone!! i love3 50 word fiction fridays.
Posted by: Jodi | 22 avril 2005 13h07
Ooooh, EvilDeb came out to play with us, today - whoo hoo! I love it!
Posted by: Marie | 22 avril 2005 13h36
A Day at the Toy Shop
Babs opened the invoice.
“They sent Lipsticks! I specifically ordered Butterflies! Kareen, look at this. Women in the Northwest pant for remote-controlled vibrators, not pink Mary Kay look-alikes. Argh!”
Babs zipped up to advise a customer about lubes.
Kareen slickly adjusted the invoice, pocketed a Lipstick, and repacked the box.
Posted by: Suzi | 22 avril 2005 14h20
The saleswoman smiled. "Can I interest you in-"
"No thank you," Mom kindly declined.
"Yes, but-"
"No thank you."
"How about-"
"No. Thank. You."
The saleswoman walked away.
And returned ten minutes later.
"Can I interest you-"
She caught only a glimpse of Mom's purse before it knocked her out.
Posted by: loon | 22 avril 2005 15h27
this story was written by lloyd, spouse of evildeb. this is a true story in which plays the 17 year old whistler, and the part of the fat, drunk, tattooed ex-navy guy is played by a fat, drunk, tattooed ex-navy guy.
"Don't whistle," the old man commanded. "You ever been
in the navy?"
He looked me up and down before coming to his own
conclusion. "Hmmph. Well, if you ever WERE in the
navy, they'd teach there's only two things that
whistle: A bosun's mate and a jackass. So don't
whistle."
Posted by: Jodi | 22 avril 2005 15h35
wow! everyone did great! i love that there is a story that features toys in babeland! i should mention that the fat, drunk, tattooed ex-navy guy was actually working at the gas station, where young lloyd was filling his tank. so he was in sales as well.
good job everyone! gold stars for all of you. we had theft, violence, drunks, avon ladies, carnivorous houses, girl scout cookies, fast food, sex toys and lots of sales killing. everyone should take note of evildeb's story, as that is what it sounds like when we argue.
Posted by: Jodi | 22 avril 2005 17h09
He listened to her outgoing message a dozen times. He'd call, late, knowing no one would answer, just to hear her. She sounded so alluring. He could picture her leaning against the stacks, alone, in the library, looking out frosted windows, at the distant mountains. Oh my God, she answered!
Posted by: Victor | 22 avril 2005 18h42
Running LATE as usual, Dick huffed and puffed into the sales meeting. PowerPoint slides were whizzing by as the next greatest slogan was being surgically planted up the asses of the "Team". Dick bent over, with his bonus check thoughts dancing in his head, and accepted this week's marketing bliss.
Posted by: DrinkJack | 23 avril 2005 7h19
did you know that i used to make slides for a living. i would create slide presentations, or just output files already created, process the film and mount the slides. I used Aldus/Adobe Persuasion as much as possible. I spent not a few hours recreating power point templates in persuasion, so if a customer wanted a particular PP template, i could still use persuasion.
Posted by: Jodi | 23 avril 2005 12h37