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Write about a character who uses sarcasm as a defense mechanism.

Posted in Character on Jan 27, 2023

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✍️ 14 stories

The Dungeon of Deus ex Sapiens

Submitted to Contest #183

Secret ingredients(don't tell anyone): Guns, swearing, gore.Bullets pounded the wall where Arthas had been. He blind fired from what little cover the lift offered as the doors threatened to close.“Is it too late to surrender?” Detective Jacques asked. He was a long way from Mars. Of all the ways the Martian had imagined dying, being turned into Swiss cheese by assault rifles had to be one of the worst.“Far too late, Mister Jacques,” said the taunting voice of Lord Banks. The aristocratic puppet master spoke through the public address system....

23 likes 20 comments 20
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Jupiter's Golden Stain

Submitted to Contest #183

Jupiter's Golden StainDoesn’t look special to me…The words haunted him as he lay down to rest. Usually as soon as his head hit the pillow he found himself in a deep sleep.But not today. Not tonight.Dave couldn’t help but focus on his least favourite spot on the ceiling. It wasn’t a wet patch, but it looked like one.It looked like a yellow stain. Like a cat had urinated on polystyrene. Like the cat had done it several times. Like it was the cat’s favourite place to take a slash. Like the urine was starting to eat through the ceiling after yea...

16 likes 10 comments 10
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I Drink My Tea With Sarcasm, Thank You.

Submitted to Contest #183

It was a normal day in London, or as normal as it could be in a world where Snowflake Soul-Reaping Ghosts roamed free. The cloudy skies and the prospect of rain did nothing to dampen the spirits of the people of London, for they were always smiling. But these were not happy smiles. No, these were smiles meant to fool the ghosts, for in this world, the only way to avoid having your soul reaped was to use sarcasm as a defense mechanism. The Snowflake Soul-Reaping Ghosts were the stuff of nightmares. They were ethereal entities, transparent a...

15 likes 4 comments 4
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I Survived Camping

Submitted to Contest #183

My best friend, Carol, and I bet on a coin toss (dumb, I know). If I won, she had to go to a concert with me, any kind, rock, blues, classical. I've invited Carol so many times, and she never goes. Fleetwood Mac was on tour again, and I wanted her to experience it. Of course, I get, "Why does anyone drive for two hours, stand in line, and sit in a place with hundreds or maybe thousands of screaming, sweaty, crazed people? Why?" She'll never get it.If I lost, I had to go camping for a weekend. My response: "Carol, why would anyone hike for mi...

11 likes 18 comments 18
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Kamikaze

Submitted to Contest #183

Kamikaze I never believed in destiny or a greater purpose until I met Palmer. She possessed this… fire inside of her that I lost after Robbie died. I had lost the passion in my life– and in Jericho a life without fire, drive, or passion– it’s not quite worth living. Palmer changed that. She changed me. She was the first one I opened up to about Robbie’s death, about the tumor, and… all of the baggage that came with that.  When I told her about the life-sentence they gave me… that my time was limited, she didn’t run like the others. L...

11 likes 4 comments 4
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The Troll

Submitted to Contest #183

Annette pulled up outside Doug’s place and beeped her horn. He hurried out, pulling on his jacket and folded his lanky frame into her little car. Beaming, he leaned over for a kiss. Annette reciprocated eagerly, then pushed him away.“No more for now. You’re going to have to decide if you still want to be engaged to me after you’ve met the troll.”“What are you talking about?” Doug said, puzzled. “You said you need my help on a mission? All very mysterious and intriguing.”Annette laughed as she merged into traffic.“We are going to visit my gra...

9 likes 2 comments 2
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Dick Woodcock

Submitted to Contest #183

Dick WoodcockRichard Woodcock, best known as "Dick", was an HIV+, Hep C+, IV drug abusing “frequent flier”. If you’ve worked the ED, you’ll recognize the term, but for those who haven’t, it’s a patient who’s a “habitual utilizer of emergency services”. I met Mr. Woodcock late one winter Saturday night when he was in “severe need of a belly tap” and “could barely breathe.” All the key phrases emergency docs use to convey this patient could in no way wait until Monday, no not even until the next morning.” This indeed was an urgent call. So, of...

8 likes 1 comment 1
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The Personal Assistant

Submitted to Contest #183

  “Where is Sistra?” Jamieson said. Terrance was sure of the voice, but checked the name display on his cell phone anyway. “Her test came back positive. Why haven’t you been watching her?”    “Mr. Jamieson, she sent me away when she finished at the recording studio two days ago.”    “Rudy tells me she dropped by Armen’s party tonight. That was nine o’clock. He says she was having everything they were having. Why are you not at her side?”    “Mr. Jamieson, I’m not her doctor, and I’m not...

7 likes 0 comments 0
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Using Sarcasm As a Defense Mechanism

Submitted to Contest #183

Using Sarcasm As A Defense Mechanism          Using sarcasm is a defense mechanism that protects against vulnerability. These barbs are smoke screens and prevent open and honest communication in relationships. Sarcasm is a defense mechanism used because of experiences in the family's early years and social settings. Young men, Teenagers use sarcasm as a way to get accepted into peer groups.          Cynics feel that this is a great defense mechanism: ...

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Press Relations

Submitted to Contest #183

Mary Elizabeth I was heading to an awards dinner that could decide my fate with the New York Sentinel, a news source for hundreds of thousands of readers. If I won best reporting for my piece, it could catapult me to a position of prominence where I was allowed more creative freedom and increased resources. If I did not, I’d likely retain my status as a reliable reporter who could deliver enjoyable puff pieces and solid coverage of small-time crime. There was one man standing in my way - Everett Whitcomb. A man bestowed a douchey name, lik...

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Sticks and Stones

Submitted to Contest #183

While in his neighborhood bar, Charlie Westworth-Brownlow admired himself in the restroom mirror.Physically robust and sturdy he thought his curly handlebar mustache made him look exceptionally distinguished. At age 60, he believed he was unquestionably handsome and charming.But with such an inflated ego he was in fact very delusional.He washed his hands before returning to the bar counter.After downing his gin and tonic in a single drink, the female bar attendant asked if he wanted another. "No, my beauty," Charlie said, "as much as I would...

5 likes 0 comments 0
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The Beer Sitter

Submitted to Contest #183

“Man, even the I.R.S. would laugh at my bank account,” Casey Cassidy laments as he checks The Mean Fiddler’s receipts for a second time. The forty-three-year-old restaurant owner runs his hand through his generous mop of dark hair, worrying how much longer it will be before it starts falling out. Wiping his sauce-covered hands on his smock, Cisco Soto comes out of the kitchen. The wall-eyed cook looks at Casey apprehensively. “We makin’ any money, boss?” “We’re so far in the red I should be callin’ you comrade.” “So, no?” “We’re an Irish...

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Your Favorite Student

Submitted to Contest #183

Dear Ms. Miller, Remember me? It’s Ian, from English class, 2016. I don’t blame you if you don’t, it must be so hard to keep track of all your past students with all the work you have to do—those essays don’t grade themselves! Remember when you always said that to us? I do. It’s February now, hopefully the ones your kids submitted in November are almost done. Oh, please pardon me, I forgot how busy you are coaching the girl’s volleyball team. Sorry to hear you went 0-16 again, you’ll get ‘em next time!  Your Facebook account is publ...

5 likes 3 comments 3
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My Protagonist; an inflictor of sorrow.

Submitted to Contest #183

*** Warning...desperately needed profanity, just a little. ***My Protagonist; an inflictor of sorrow.His names John; John Wilson. Professor Wilson to his adoring students, especially Alondra. To me he’s simply a fuck pot, an agitator, a lone saboteur of my work in progress.He is becoming the bane of my existence. Its simply not working out, he’s changed so much from chapter one…we’re just too different. He’s also the main character in my ongoing novel, “The Reasoning,” though I’m thinking of changing it to... “The life and slow death of a fa...

4 likes 4 comments 4
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