‘Who has a wake at an American diner?’
‘It’s fine. They're on a low income.’
‘They're poor you mean?’
‘Deprived.’
First man pauses.
‘Broke.’
‘We all live within our means.’
First man laughs.
‘Alright, Mystic Meg!’
First man takes a sip of his vanilla milkshake from the rippled glass.
‘Fuckin’ Cryptic Craig. Just say it like it is- They're skint!’
First man then takes a straw from the holder in the middle of the table and puts it in his milkshake.
‘Money does not a person make.’
‘No, but it really fuckin’ helps.’
First man takes a silver hip flask out of the inside pocket of his black, tailored, Gucci suit jacket, tips bourbon into his milkshake, then replaces his flask.
‘So, how’s the fruit an’ veg business treatin’ you?’
‘Fine.’
‘They give you free scran do they? At your shop?’
‘I get a discount.’
‘Oh yeah- How much?’
‘Ten percent.’
‘Hahaha is that all?!’
‘There’s not much of a profit margin on organic fruit and vegetables.’
‘I suppose there wouldn’t be, no. When you think about it. Can’t advertise a carrot, can you? Next to the Lynx and the Nissan Dukes?’
First man stirs the bourbon into his milkshake with the straw, then takes a sip and exhales satisfyingly.
‘So, you full time there then, or what?’
‘No. Part time.’
‘Oh right- Lady o’ leisure!’
‘Well, no- I volunteer two days a week as well. In Oxfam.’
‘Oh right. And how much you get paid for that?’
‘It’s a voluntary position.’
‘So nothin’ then?’
‘I don’t do it for the money.’
‘Clearly.’
First man raises his eyebrows. There’s a short silence.
‘So, what do you paint then?’
‘Mainly floral arrangements.’
First man pauses.
‘Flowers?’
‘Yes. Mainly.’
‘Just say that then... Just say flowers.’
First man pauses
‘So, how long you been doing that for then? Painting?’
‘Since college.’
‘Right. That’s cool. I remember you used to be good at art. At school.’
‘Yes.’
‘Ey, you remember I used to give you my projects sometimes, didn’t I? For art? To do for me? At school? ‘Cause I were shit. And you’d give me your maths homework. Sometimes- You remember that?’
Second man smiles briefly, but then the smile disappears, as quickly as it emerged.
‘Yes.’
‘You stuck wi’ it though? That’s good. Good for you. You must be making a pretty penny from it now then, like, if you’ve bin doing it all these years?’
‘I don’t make money from my paintings.’
‘Really? Why not?’
‘I donate my work to non profit organisations.’
First man pauses.
‘Charity?’
‘Yes.’
‘How can someone donate a painting to charity? They sell ‘em or sommat?’
‘No’
‘Raffle prizes?’
‘No. We give them to people who would not otherwise be able to afford art, so they can decorate their homes.’
‘Oh right. That’s a thing then, is it?’
‘Yes. Its very popular.’
‘Right.’
First man pauses.
‘What’s wrong wi’ posters?’
‘Many people prefer real paintings to posters.’
‘Well, that’s all well and good, mate, but if they ant got no money, then they should learn to keep schtum and get what they’re given- Fuckin gratitude- You can ‘av this poster of a cat in a bin or a bird wi’ her titties out or a Ferrari or whatever, but that’s your lot- Like it or lump it! Spoilt bastards don’t know they’re born! No flower paintings in Auschwitz were there? Eh?!... Ungrateful pricks.’
‘Well… I enjoy it. It’s very rewarding.’
‘What, painting or being all altruistic?’
Second man pauses.
‘Both.’
‘Hahaha I bet it fuckin’ is! Fuckin’ dopamined up to your eye balls, doing all that givin’ and selflessness- Fuckin’ wanking yourself off every time you chuck a canvas at a pleb- Can’t buy food but they got time to fanny about hanging watercolours all over the gaf, fuckin’ Monet rip offs! Jesus.’
First man chuckles and takes another sip of his milkshake, through the straw.
‘I mainly paint with oils.’
First man shakes his head. Waitress then approaches the table, carrying two burgers.
‘Veggie burger?’
Second man raises his hand.
‘That’s me- Thank you.’
Waitress leans over First man to put down Second man’s burger. First man pulls a face behind her back to Second man like ‘Phwoar!’
‘The Mega Melt?’
‘Aye that’s me, love, ta.’
Waitress leaves.
‘Fuck me, you see that arse?!’
‘I wasn’t looking.’
‘I fuckin’ was!’
First man extends his left hand and uses his right hand to swipe behind his left, miming spanking. Second man rolls his eyes, as he shakes salt on his chips.
‘You would though, wouldn’t you? Eh? Can you imagine? Goin’ int toilet wi’ that?! She’d get a good tip from me, let me tell yees that for nowt!
First man makes the sound of a wolf howling, as he takes the salt shaker off Second man.
‘I bet she’s a right filthy little bitch.’
First man shakes salt on his chips.
‘She looks underage.’
‘Listen- If she’s old enough to be pissing about serving burgers, mate, she’s old enough to take one for the team.’
Second man shakes his head.
‘What’s the matter wi' you? You’re not a poofter, are you?’
Second man pauses.
‘No.’
‘’Cause if you are- That’s ok. Its twenty twenty three, mate- No-one gives a fuck about that anymore- Its old news. Its all trannies now- That’s what’s new under the sun... And no-one gives a fuck about that either. To be fair.’
First man dollops mayonnaise onto the side of his chips.
‘So… Are you? A queer?’
‘No.’
‘Right.’
First man pauses.
‘I almost wish you were. Truth be told. Least it’d give you a bit of character. No offence.’
‘Well, that was quite offensive.’
First man scoffs.
‘Oh, come on, mate- I’m only takin’ the piss- Don’t get all amnesty international on me over 'ere 'cause I can’t be arsed!’
First man dollops ketchup next to the mayonnaise. Second man is staring at First man’s massive burger- Double beef patties, bacon, cheese, hash brown, onion rings, barbeque sauce and gherkins for the green.
‘I know- It’s a beast innit?!’
‘And you’re happy eating that, are you?’
‘I will be, yeah.’
‘A cow... A dead cow.’
‘I will be, yeah.’
First man lifts up his brioche burger bun and squeezes American mustard on the Mega Melt. Second man is still staring at First man’s giant burger, shaking his head.
‘What’s your problem?’
‘You’ve murdered an animal and now you’re eating it. That’s my problem.’
‘I’ve not murdered anything!’
‘Yes you have. Indirectly, you’ve murdered it.’
‘You didn’t say that though, did you? You said I’d murdered it. Directly was implied.’
‘If everyone stopped eating meat tomorrow, the meat industry would not be able to justify slaughtering animals and so, the animals would be saved.’
‘Hahaha saved for what?! So we could have billions of cows clogging up the place, ruining the O- Zone layer with their farts?!’
‘No.’
‘So what then, the cows just wouldn’t be born? What’s the difference?? Between a cow being murdered and a cow not being born?’
Second man pauses.
‘Its not just the murder. The cows are in pain.’
‘Can’t be more painful than this conversation.’
‘Don’t make light of it. Its not a joking matter.’
‘Just eat your bean burger, soft lad- Its getting cold.’
Second man does the sign of the cross before he eats a chip. First man laughs.
‘Ha! What are you religious now?! Have you found Jesus? Jesus Christ the Lord our saviour- Sent to die for all our sins?!’
Second man scowls at First man.
‘Does Jesus cover cows as well? Or is it just humans? 'Cause if he does, do cows, you can put a word in for your mate over ‘ere, can’t you- Seein’ as you’ve got a direct line to Heaven!’
First man picks up his huge burger and takes a big, sloppy bite. Second man scowls at First man as barbeque sauce dribbles down his chin.
‘Oh, I tell you what though, he’s gone to a good home, your bestie- He’s fucking delicious!’
First man dabs his chin with a paper napkin, as he chews and swallows his food.
‘Or she? Could be a lady cow, couldn’t it?’
‘The female cows are mainly used for milk production, which, in a way, is worse.’
Second man glares at First man’s milkshake.
‘Oh, for fucks sake! If you’re goin’ down that road, you could kick off about everythin’! Fuckin’ plants are living too, you know- Fuckin’ lettuce murderer, you are- Eh- So what- You gonna live off air?!’
‘I do what I can.’
‘Fuckin’ ‘ell- May as well put a bullet in your brain and be done wi' it, at that rate!’
Mother of the deceased looks up at First man. First man promptly shuts up and does a cringey face at Second man. Second man shakes his head. The pair finish their meals in silence. Waitress then comes back to the table and clears away the plates.
‘Was everything ok with your meals?’
‘It was, yeah, thanks, love.’
Waitress is about to walk away but First man grabs her arm.
‘Listen, I’m not from round here. Anymore. So, it’s a while since I’ve seen what’s what- Where abouts would you recommend to go after this? Ya know, to have a boogie?’
‘Oh… Er…’
‘You don’t have to answer that.’
‘We’re having a private conversation here, mate, if you don’t mind.’
‘It’s not private- I’m sat right here.’
‘Yeah, well, don’t sit there then- Its none of your business!’
‘You’re making it my business.’
‘Sorry about him, love- He dunt get out much.’
‘Just leave her alone.’
‘Excuse me- We’re just two adults trying to have a chat- I don’t see what that’s got to do with you?’
‘Is she even an adult?’
‘Of course she is- Don’t be so rude… You’re an adult, aren’t you, love?’
‘I’m seventeen.’
‘Yeah, see- That’s an adult…. Isn’t it?’
‘I’ll be eighteen in two months.’
‘There you go, she’ll be eighteen in two months- Practically cashing her pension int she, so keep your nose out!... Anyway, you were sayin'? Nightlife?’
‘Er… I think there’s a cocktail bar somewhere near here.’
‘Happy days! I larve a cocktail, whilst the cat’s away! Ey, what say me and thee head over there after your shift and you can show me how to party- When do you get off?’
‘Eight.’
‘Perfect! Shall I meet you there or here?’
‘Well… My Dad’s picking me up after work. I could ask him though?’
‘No!!!! No… Don’t do that. No need to get him involved… Perhaps, we’ll just leave it for now. Tell you what though, why don’t you gimme a call in a couple of months and we can sort somethin’ out then- Come see me in Manchester. Plenty of cocktail bars there. We can go for a spin in my Lambo, I’ll show you the penthouse- Hot tub on the balcony- Views of the whole city! No need to bring any spends, just bring your toothbrush.
First man winks and gives Waitress his card. Waitress blushes, takes the card, smiles, coyly and quickly walks away.
‘You’re unbelievable.’
‘I know, it’s a gift.’
‘You’re a pig.’
First man does a pig impression, then laughs obnoxiously, before taking a sip of his milkshake.
‘You disgust me.’
‘Woah ho hoooooo- There he is! You let it out, hemp boy- Let it all out! Purge that shadow self- Carl Jung would be so proud!’
First man laughs again.
‘Right- Outside.’
‘Hahahaha are you fucking serious?!’
‘You’re a predator!’
Second man stands up, abruptly.
‘So what’s that make you then- Alien?! Fucks sake, sit down, soft lad, you’re embarrassing yourself.’
‘I couldn’t stand up to you in school but I’m going to stand up to you now- Outside.’
‘What are you on about? We were friends at school!’
‘We weren’t friends! You used to bully me every day!’
‘That wasn’t bullying, it was just bants! That’s what kids do!?’
‘Not all kids, just the rotten ones.’
‘Fuck off- It’s just natural selection, mate, that’s all- Fuckin survival of the fittest. Darwinian. I was just responding to my biology- A racehorse ain’t gonna vibe wi’ a donkey, ya get me?’
‘And you’re a donkey if ever I saw one.’
‘Jesus, man- What is your problem?!’
‘Don’t take the Lord’s name in vain.’
‘Bahahahaha are you fuckin trolling me?!?! Seriously, man- Am I bein’ punked here or what?! Ashton Kutcher gonna jump out wi’ his MTV cameras in a second or sommat, man- What the fuck- This is a fucking joke!’
‘You’re a fucking joke!’
‘Fuck off!’
‘No, you fuck off!’
‘Oh big words there comin’ from a big man! What you gonna do then, huh? Outside? You gonna throw lentils at me? Chuck a fuckin’ bible at my head?! Holy water? Fuckin’ rosary beads- You sad, little, hippie, Jehovah twat!’
‘I’m a black belt, actually.’
First man pauses.
‘Seriously?’
‘Yes. Now- Outside.’
First man hesitates and looks around the room.
‘What’s the matter, soft lad? You scared? Scared of a hippie twat?!’
‘I’m not scared of anything you fucking twunt!’
Second man laughs.
‘What’s a twunt?!’
‘Fuck off- I was obviously torn between sayin’ twat and cunt, wasn’t I- Don’t be a dick about it.’
‘Or a twunt?’
‘Fuck off, fuck boy or I’ll fuck you up!’
‘Well, come on then, mate- I’m ready!’
‘Right then- Fuck it- Let’s go!’
First man rapidly stands up from the table and the two men march outside, to the car park, shortly followed by some of the wake attendees. They stand opposite each other.
‘Ready?’
‘Yeah, I’m fuckin’ ready!’
‘Come on then!’
First man throws the first punch- A wide one. Second man ducks out of the way. First man misses. Second man then kicks First man in the stomach and winds him. First man hunches over. Second man then quickly swings at First man, whilst he’s debilitated and punches him in the mouth, hurting his hand on First man’s teeth in the process. First man stumbles backwards but, somehow, remains on his feet. As Second man clutches his hand, First man uses this time to throw another punch, aiming for Second man’s face but Second man moves out of the way and First man clips Second man’s shoulder instead, barely moving him off centre. Second man then swiftly punches First man in the face again but this time, First man falls to the ground. First man is now laid on the floor, moaning, holding his face. Second man approaches First man and stands over him, victoriously.
‘Not so tough now, are you!?! Ey?!?!’
First man starts screaming loudly. Mother of the deceased rushes over to First man and crouches next to him.
‘Its alright, lad. He’s at peace now. He’s not suffering anymore.’
First man expels a guttural wail and bursts into tears. Mother of the deceased then scoops First man up and cradles him in her arms, like a baby.
‘Shhhhhhhhh- It’s ok, son, it’s alright- Let it out- Let it all out.’
‘I never got to say goodbye!!! I never got to tell him, how much I loved him!’
‘He knew.’
‘Did he know though?! ‘Cause I never told him!! How would he know if I never told him?!!’
‘Because he did. He did know. I know he knew. I’m his mother. And a mother knows.’
First man sobs uncontrollably.
‘I just wish he was still here! I wish I could have done something!! I feel like I failed him- I failed him as a friend! I was supposed to be his friend!!!’
‘You were his friend. You were a good friend. You were his best friend.’
‘I was a piece of shit!!! I am a piece of shit!!’
‘No you’re not, son. You’re a good man.’
‘That’s not what he thinks!’
First man points to Second man, who has now taken a step back.
‘Yeah, well- He doesn’t know you like we do, does he?’
First man sniffles.
‘I guess not.’
‘Besides, I only invited him for the numbers- He’d not spoke to our Aaron for years, and that were only on Book Face- You spoke to him every day- So, fuck what he seys, the hippie twunt.’
First man laughs and cries at the same time. Snot flies out of his nose. Mother of the deceased strokes First man’s head, which is nestled in her bosom.
‘Thank you, son- Thank you for being such a good friend to my boy. You loved him and he loved you. And I love you. You know that, don't you?’
First man is still crying- He’s shed so many tears that the collar of his shirt is already soaking wet, as is Mother of the deceased's chest.
‘And ey- You listen ‘ere-‘
Mother of the deceased holds up First man’s face, so that she is now looking directly into his watery eyes.
‘Just cause he’s not with us no more, that dunt mean I don’t wanna see you proper- So, don’t get any ideas, alright? You’re still comin’ over for Christmas. And I still want my fifty quid M&S voucher on my birthday- Ya get me?’
First man sniffles.
‘And a bottle of gin.’
‘That’s right. One litre. Hendricks. None of that Gordon’s cheap shite muck.’
‘Ok.’
‘Alreight. Good lad.’
Mother of the deceased then wipes First man’s face with a handkerchief and pinches his cheek, forcing him to give a brief smile. She then holds his chin as she looks at his wounded eye.
‘Gonna be a shiner, that is!... Come on- Get up.'’
Mother of the deceased helps First man to his feet, as they stand up together.
'Now- Let’s fuck off and get pissed!'’
Mother of the deceased then brushes off First man’s expensive suit, before turning to address Second man.
‘And you! You can fuck off an’ all- Go on- Clear off! Ya hemp faced tree huggin' flower paintin' hippie cunt!’
Mother of the deceased then presses her palms together and gives Second man a small bow.
‘Namaste.’
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24 comments
Great read, James! The regional accent/spelling is always a gamble in stories, but I think it paid off nicely here. Gave the characters a nice sense of voice, the story a nice sense of place, and just made the comedy hit that much harder. Lots of other good stuff here, too: The deliberate use of 'first/second character' instead of names (which I loved, because it gave the characters a more distanced feel, and that makes a lot of sense considering they're not actually friends). Love the subtlety of the suicide detail. Brilliant to have the c...
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Thanks for your detailed feedback, Zack- Much appreciated and glad you enjoyed :)
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Welcome to Reedsy! This was a great use of dialogue. The story moved along well. I could picture what each character looked like! I don't usually promote my own stories here but if you want, check out "the richest thing on Earth". I used characters and not names on that one. I would be interested in your opinion. I will look forward to reading more of your entries.
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Thanks LJ! Will check out your story also
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Well that was fun James. I do enjoy a dialogue focused story. Only joined and six submissions already, tell the truth there more than one James Larder isn't there ha?
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Haha nah just me! Probably my first and last week doing all five prompts though :)
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Yeah but it would be fun to win, then see your other four shortlisted hahaha
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Love this all-dialogue romp through the prompt. Took me a bit to warm up to the "first man" / "second man" , but in the end, I think it works well. Outstanding banter. Even though "first man" is revolting, definitely think he's on to something with the bourbon milkshakes, proving that no one's all bad.
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Haha thanks Wally, yeah, he's certainly shrewd on that front! Glad you enjoyed it :)
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Great story! I aligned the character “names” with their personalities. First man, always the “best” in his mind and making others secondary to him. Second man, in the “nice guys finish last” role. I liked how you incorporated the deceased’s mother at the end, highlighting First Man’s ability to make others believe what he wants them to think of him. Well done 😄
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Cheers Nina! I think First man is a bit of a secret softie tbh and just needs a big hug! That's how I saw him anyway. I wrote the end early on in this story, so knew what was coming, which made it easier to exaggerate him being so obnoxious for most of it! :)
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James, This was a fun read! The banter between the two men felt natural and the progression of the conversation to the fist fight worked well. I liked the dialect here. It added a bit more to the tempo of the conversation and, while I'm not an expert on the spelling and language of this area (Britain or Ireland?), it seemed to be regionally correct and easy to follow (for an American, lol). A couple of notes, if you're open to them... Using "first man" and "second man" instead names gets a little clunky. Especially, during the fight scene. ...
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Thanks for your feedback Jeannette! I've taken the warning tag off based on your advice. Am new to the site so wasn't sure whether it warranted one or not but I guess if there's no direct mention then can go without, cheers! And with the names... Its something I'm playing around with. I've written a screenplay where there are no names throughout, just husband, wife, PT, bartender etc so its sort of an extension of that idea. I do name the deceased in this short story though, which is a cheeky nod to fight club (If you've read it) where in de...
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Also yes, the dialect is Northern England which is where I'm from so there'll be phonetic spellings in there at times but glad you were able to follow still! :)
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Ah, I see. I'm a playwright and often use man 1, man 2 or variations of such in place of names when I'm writing depending on the premise of the piece. Sometimes I don't have the names in mind yet for the characters or the names are unnecessary for the piece being performed. I'm intrigued by the alpha/beta scenario and probably view them as opposite to how they're written. I see the loud mouth guy as the beta and the more controlled guy as the alpha. At least in this story. I do like the idea of keeping some ambiguity in a story as well. I t...
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Ah brill! California- What a cool place to live!! Good to connect with you :)
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Loved it — funny but touching and turn-y at the same time. I’ve seen conversations like that go sour — even one fight the bar owner was so embarrassed to see he added two more pork chops to my plate. Good work!
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Cheers Martin! Glad you enjoyed :)
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Interesting read! Namaste!
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Haha thanks Kimberly :)
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I saw that you read a few of my stories. Will you go back and comment on them? What did you like, and what could work better if changed?
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Welcome to Reedsy. Already have four stories. You work fast. I'll read more later. Can barely get the newest read. This is funny prompt fulfiller. Namaste. Thanks for reading/liking some ofy stories
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Cheers Mary! Have a similar journey to you in that I wrote a novel in 2022 without studying rules so now going back to basics and learning to walk before I try to run again, so to speak! (The novel's in a drawer until I know what I'm doing and can rework it!) Thanks for reading :)
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Mine is same but a couple of excerpts are posted here. 'Trampled Dreams' etc. Seems all I get done is reading excellent stories on here so must get back to it.
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