Stalemate

I give to you a story in eleventy-one words...


Chris, Darren, and the bartender sat still as statues while the dry squid’s smell saturated the air.

“You try?” The bartender beckoned.

Chris shoved the box toward Darren, who vehemently ignored him.

“Taste good,” the bartender coaxed.

The silent stalemate subsided when Chris retrieved the box with a huff. “Fine, I’ll try some.” He tore off and tasted a tiny tentacle.

“Not bad. Your turn.”

Darren shook his head.

“You said you’d try it.”

“Did not. I said I’d eat tarantula, which I did.”

“Whatever,” Chris munched on a moistureless mantle before offering some to the bartender, who declined.

“Are you gonna eat all of it?”

“No, I’m done. Let’s go.”

Sarcasm

I give to you a story in eleventy-one words...


The vendor returned, his eyes smiling at the opportunity to sell the arid cephalopod. Meanwhile, the bartender made room for the acrid remains. Chris glared at Darren, then made a “do something” face.

“Umm, I don’t... I just… No, thanks,” Darren sputtered.

The vendor extended his hand while the amused bartender enjoyed the show.

“Pay him,” Chris blurted.

“I don’t want it.”

“You called him back.”

“It was sarcasm!”

The vendor thrust his hand with an exaggerated grunt.

“Oh my God!” Chris erupted. When he saw that Darren still refused, Chris pulled a few bills and dropped them on the table. The vendor, with the bills in hand, fled the scene.