Hatchetfield Stories

Good Job

Again, something short I wrote for a competition

Task: "Remove one major plot point and write about it"

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Paul clutched the grenades tightly. The realization set in. When he pulled the pin, he would probably die. No one would survive a blast like that. He walked into the theater, the cold air coming through the hole in the roof made him shiver. There it was, the meteor. "Let's hope this will work," Paul said. He grabbed one of the grenades and counted to 3 before pulling the pin. He closed his eyes, waiting for the explosion.

"Hey! What the fuck do you think you're doing!" Paul turned around. A cop was standing in front of him.

"Sam?" Paul gasped. "You died!"

Sam laughed, "I didn't. Didn't you know? We were performing a musical with the entire town. Everyone was in on it. Well... Everyone except you apparently. But we have to get out of here, it's not safe!" He gestured to the meteor. "The roof could give in at any moment."

Paul nodded and followed the man outside. "But I don't get it? You were all playing characters?"

"Yeah, one week ago everyone got an invite, you could make your own character and you had until yesterday to send in requests for props. That girl you were with, Emma, she ordered a lot of fake blood." Sam looked on his watch. "It's five past twelve, the performance is over."

Paul looked around, people were giving each other high fives. And in the distance, Emma came running towards him, fake blood still dripping down her leg. She jumped into Paul's arms. "You were great! Thank you for being such a good partner!"

"Yeah... Thank you too, I guess?"

Emma looked at her feet as soon as Paul let her go. "I know we don't really know each other outside of this, but do you want to grab some coffee with me?"

Paul laughed awkwardly. "Don't infect it with that blue slime and you've got yourself a deal."

"Deal."

Sam put his hand on Paul's shoulder and winked. "Good job, Paul."