Ben took the gun, hefting it to get a feel. Kelly ducked when the barrel pointed her way. “Whoa! Don’t point that at me, Rambo!”
“Sorry,” Ben said, face red. He gave her a goofy grin and pointed the pistol at the floor. “So who are you re-”
“Son of a mother pus-bucket!” Ben fell to the floor as fire engulfed his leg, a furrow in his jeans leaking blood all over.
Kelly sighed. She examined Ben’s calf. “It’s just a flesh wound,” she said in an affected British accent. “But no gun for you, Brave Sir Robin.”
We’re writing rom-com this week, Chain Writing Game-style. Sorry Kerrie, I had to shoot him a little. ‘Tis but a scratch (I know, I know…) Anyway, a little blood, a little cheap humor, and I’m done…unless she opens it up to more entries 😉 But I’d much rather see our little writing group grow, so join in!
Hope you enjoy.
Happy Reading and Writing!