Short story in 30 minutes

This week's writing exercise:

Come up with a story based on the picture below:



My story:

Laughter

My Literature teacher Miss Lopez read an interesting story in class. It was about a lazy Vietnamese farmer boy named Chinh who was always looking for a good time. One day Chinh wanted to have some fun while his father and siblings worked the fields. So he gets this big firecracker that his uncle gave him for his birthday and inserts it into the ass of one of their buffaloes. He lights the fuse and runs for cover. The firecracker blows up and rips the buffalo’s ass wide open. It collapses to the ground in a bloody heap. Chinh laughs so hard, his side is splitting; his father is not amused, and splits Chinh’s lip with a punch.

So I notice that everyone in class is laughing hysterically except for one person: Martin. I never really liked Martin. He’s a loser. The bullies often picked on him because he’s a geek: He sucks his thumb, he enjoys reading Star Trek paperbacks, he wears suspenders and he picks his nose every chance he gets. He smells bad too. I don’t think he takes a shower everyday.

Miss Lopez asks Martin why he doesn’t seem happy about the story.

“Because it’s mean.”

“You’re classmates don’t find it mean. They actually find it hilarious.”

“Well, I find it mean. What if everyone here was in that buffalo’s place? I think you wouldn’t find it hilarious.”

“Martin, it’s just a story.” Miss Lopez says, laughing.

“You’re all mean and I hate you!” Martin covers his face with his hands and runs out of the classroom, sobbing.

The class erupts in laughter. “Boy what a loser.” I hear someone say. More laughter. I am not laughing, however. I actually feel sorry for the kid.

I find Martin alone in the cafeteria during lunch. He was eating alone, picking at his food.

“Can I join you?” I ask in the friendliest tone I could muster.

“Sure.” He says, not bothering to look up.

“I’m sorry about what happened in class today.”

“Don’t sweat it.”

We eat in silence for a few minutes. He finally blurts out: “Tomorrow I won’t be here anymore.” He stands up, gives me a forlorn look, and leaves.

I didn’t see Martin in school the next day. Everyone is shocked to hear the news of Martin’s death. His body was found in his room, his rectum and colon all blown up. He stuck a Super Lolo up his ass and lit the fuse.

I’m surprised nobody laughed.