Archive | Skwibby fiction

BadBoss: The Beginning

Jeremey Nefreuteau was a poster boy for the American dream, damnit!

His parents had immigrated from the little-known Eastern European nation of Blendork when he was just a lad, and he’d grown up in a tough steel town on the north shore of Lake Erie. From these humble beginnings, he became one of the best-paid managers in all of North America. And one of the most damaging.

Yes, he was a marvel.

As a child he learned to play the tuba, was shunned by the other kids, and tortured small wild animals for fun. (Not to cast any dispersion on the tuba-playing populace; Jeremey had been forced to play the tuba by his domineering father, Buptor Nefreuteau, who had once played flugelhorn for the Great Leader, back when Blendork was part of the Warsaw Pact.) Continue Reading →

Brain in the boot

It had been a long day for Trent Derbish, officer with the Canadian Border Service Agency. Lots of traffic, tons of odd declarations, and then this old bugger with an English accent.

“I’m sorry, sir, but I didn’t quite catch that. Could you repeat it?”

“Right,” the old man said, “all I’ve got to declare is a brain. I’ve got it in the boot, if you need to see it.”

“A brain in your boot?”

“Yes, officer, a brain. In the boot.” Continue Reading →

Dead shark eyes and full frontal nudity

Stesha had a big brain. Some people said this enormous and inefficient organ was the cause of his problems, but some had darker suspicions.

Of course, his supporters said Stesha’s big brain was one of his best features; it was why he would someday become Politica Suprema. Many of his closest spindicas felt that Stesha had other important attributes, such as a barely discernable sense of humor. The best thing to counter ill-formed opinion of him? Take him to summer festivals, celebrated by the common folk, where he could show off his big brain and tiny wit.


Johnson’s yearly summer barbeque was legendary for its full frontal nudity. An ex-HR professional, Johnson was capable of spontaneous bouts of nakedness, for very little reason, really. Sometimes a pretty woman inspired it, and sometimes it was just too hot.

That summer, he’d promised his family, his friends and the neighbors that it would not happen. He would, by Cupid’s Tallywhacker, keep himself clothed. Continue Reading →