This here is one of them ‘two people talking’ type exercises sometimes your creative writing person tells y’all to do? You know like when you use quotations and whatnot? That’s it, I meant to say dialogue. Kick your boots up, take your hat off, and enjoy gettin’ all read-y and stuff. Yee-haw!
Dennis’s favourite thing to do every Saturday morning was to sit on his front porch, drink his Ethiopian coffee, and read. It was a perfect, early crisp fall morning. His current book was a Jane Austen. He had promised his wife he would try to get more in touch with his feminine side and reading a female author, she said, might do the trick. To say the least, the book was going slow. He had read the book’s back cover five times just to avoid having to open it up.
“Here we go. This is for you, babe.” As he opened the book to the marked page, he heard a BANG!
“What in God’s name?” spilling coffee on his no longer clean sweater. “Shit!”
Wiping his sweater, Dennis got up from his wooden chair and walked over to the side of his porch.
He looked into his neighbour’s yard and yelled: “HEY! Hey, Jimbo! What the hell are you doing? I’m trying to have a relaxing morning here!”
BANG! BANG! BANG! Dennis had had it. Gripping his book, he rushed over to give Jim a piece of his mind.
He quickly approached Jim who was violently swinging a sledgehammer. “Jim! Stop it!”
Jim turned abruptly with the sledgehammer high over his head as he was getting ready for another big swing. “Aw shoot, Dennis. You scared the bejesus out of me. What seems to be the problem?”
“You know what the problem is. I thought we agreed that we would leave this alone until we got the right people over here to have a look at it. Put that thing down!”
“Aw gee, Dennis. I know we did. But, I mean, I just can’t bear looking at it anymore. It’s an eyesore, really. Don’t ya think?”
“Yes! No! That’s not the point! Look, we have no idea what’s inside. Quit pounding on it like a lunatic or else you might just deserve what you get.”
“Look here, Dennis. This is where you and I are different. I ain’t scared of nuthin’. So, why don’t you take your scaredy-cat behind off my property? I ain’t bothering you none. And besides, the majority of it is on my yard. I think that gives me more rights to it than you get.”
“Are all the screws loose in your head? There might be something alive in there. Alive! And once you crack that thing open, it or they will probably pounce on you and kill you. Once you’re done, guess who’s next? YOU KNOW WHO’S NEXT!”
“Calm your horses, Dennis, before your head explodes. My aluminium shed didn’t make it through the impact. How in the world could anything or anyone survive that? Huh? Mr. P-H-D?”
“’How in the world?’ This thing isn’t from our world!”
Ignoring Dennis’ pleading, Jim turned around and took another swing.
“Stop you goddamn yokel!” Dennis yelled as he threw ‘Sense and Sensibility’ in Jim’s direction.
Dennis had always been more artistic than athletic. The moment the book left his fingers, it was bound to miss. Instead of hitting its target, the book zipped past Jim’s head, bounced off the side of the spaceship and fell into a puddle of mud.
Frustrated, Dennis stormed home as the BANG! BANG! BANG! slowly faded away.