This story is not written in a normal style, I wrote it in a more casual style. It is a little repetitive at first, but keep reading it gets better, the ending is quite dumb, though. I wrote it as a joke, but I may publish it one day with other short stories. The normal questions that the reader might have are meant to be left open, but if you have a question about the story, you can ask, I might answer them.
John
There once lived a man named John. John was an average man in all aspects. He had an average house, an average car, an average office job, average appearance, an average daily routine, an average voice, and average intelligence. Like I said, his daily routine was average: He gets up at 5:00 A.M., he shaves, he puts on his average clothes, and goes to his average kitchen to prepare his average breakfast. At around 6:30 A.M. he eats his average breakfast while watching the news like an average person would do. At 7:30 A.M. he gets in his average car and drives to his average office job. He clocks in at his average office job at 8:00 A.M. He walks to his average cubicle and works on paperwork. At 12:00 P.M. he goes to his average employee break room, and eats his average lunch. At 12:45 P.M. he walks back to his average cubicle and does more average paperwork. At 5:00 P.M. he clocks out of his average office job and gets in his average car and drives back to his average home. He walks to his average bedroom and changes into some average jogging clothes. At 5:45 P.M. he jogs through his average subdivision. At 6:45 P.M. he arrives back at his average home. He takes a shower and puts on some comfortable yet average clothes. At 7:15 P.M. he prepares his average dinner. At 7:30 P.M. he eats his average dinner. At 8:00 P.M. he watches his favorite yet average television show. At 9:00 P.M. he walks to his average bedroom and lays in his average bed and reads an average book. At 9:45 P.M. he lays down in his average bed and goes to sleep.
One day John started his average daily routine as normal. He got up, ate breakfast, went to work, ate, lunch, worked more, and went home. Well, he was in the middle of preparing his dinner, he heard his doorbell ring. He said to himself, “Who could that be?” He walked to the door and opened it to find a short, fat man standing there. The man stepped into the house as he said, “Been a while, hasn’t it, John?” The man walked right past John into the kitchen, “MMM, something smells good, what’s for dinner?”
John looked at him with surprise and confusion, “Who are you, and what the hell are you doing in my house?!”
“Well, don’t you remember me, John? It’s Danny, from med school.”
“I’ve never been to med school!! I don’t know you, or anyone named Danny for that matter!!!”
“Oh, don’t be that way, John. You know me!”
Right then the door bell rang again. John answered it to see a man of average height and weight standing there. The man said, “Johnny boy, been how long? Seven years, no ten years! It’s good to see you.”
The man pushed past John in the same manner as the first man. “Oh, something smells good, are we having meatloaf for dinner?”
John was even more confused, and he was starting to get a little annoyed. “Who the hell are you people, and why the hell are you in my house?!”
The man of average height answered him by saying, “Oh, John, you’ve always been a kidder. It’s Robert from pre-med. We were best buddies. Don’t you remember me?”
John was about to answer when the door bell rang again. “Who the hell is it now?” John shouted.
John opened the door to see a tall, skinny man standing there. “Hey, man, good to see you again.” The man stepped through the door in the same manner as the first two. He sniffed the air and said, “Smells like meatloaf, man, I love meatloaf, especially yours, John.”
John was hysterical at this point, he looked at the men in anger, “WHO THE HELL ARE YOU PEOPLE?!! I DON’T KNOW WHO YOU ARE, BUT IF YOU’RE NOT GONE BY THE TIME I GET BACK, I WILL SHOOT ALL OF YOU!!!”
The tall man looked at John and said, “Whoa, calm down, buddy, It’s me Mac, from High School, don’t you remember?”
John didn’t answer, he stormed upstairs. The three men looked at each other and shrugged. They were still standing there when John returned with a shotgun.
John raised the gun at the men shouting in a thick Russian accent that was not detectable before but obviously authentic, “YOU HAVE 5 SECONDS TO LEAVE MY HOUSE BEFORE YOU ALL DIE!!!! 5...4...3...”
Before John could say 2, all three of the men in perfect synchronization, pulled out Glock 17 and emptied their clips into John’s chest. John fell face first onto the ground. The tall man talked into a radio, “Target is down, I repeat, Target is down.”
A man answered over the radio, “ten four, you are clear to do what you wish for the next six months, great job agents. We’ll send in a clean up crew immediately.”
The man put the radio back into his jacket. “I’m hungry, are you guys? I really don’t want meatloaf, though. I would love some grits.”
The average sized man said, “yeah me too.”
All three of the men entered the kitchen as the short man said, “I would rather have oatmeal.”
The three men sat down to eat their grits and oatmeal, acting as if the dead man in the living room wasn’t even there. Even when a group of men in suits came in and took away the body, they didn’t even act like they noticed.
And that proves that more people like grits than oatmeal.
THE END
