“Excuse me sire can you please calm down,” the butler pleaded as prince Nicholas was walking around the room.

“I am King Henry VIIIs great great great great great great great grandson so no one can tell me what to do,” Prince Nicholas shouted at his butler.

“I am very sorry sire,” the butler said in fear.

Prince Nicholas saw the fear in his butlers eyes an said, “I am sorry for shouting at you John.”

Nicholas was very stressed. “Please sit down dad,” one of his children said. “You look stressed.”

“Thank you for saying that Georgia,” Nicholas said as he was sitting down.

“PPBBFFFFFFFFTTT!” The chair made a loud fart noise and Georgia said, “there was a whoopee cushion on granddad’s throne.”

And everyone in the room laughed. Even Nicholas.

“It is no surprise that Sarah’s 10 year old mind would bring us a contemporary glimpse into the life of King Henry’s decedents this week. Mainly, revealing one of the oldest pranks in the book.” – Danny

Henry VIII’s throne, Dover Castle, UK

Henry VIII’s throne,
Dover Castle, UK

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Sunday Photo Fiction – July 19th 2015


July 20th, 2015

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“Don’t you do it 761. They will pull your license for good this time,” the radio voice squawked.

“761 going into the Television. Over.” The pilot of 761 pulled the yolk and slammed the throttle forward. The plane’s small prop engines whirred loud and fast.

The Television is what “Plane Stunters” called the rectangular space created by the upper walkways and the lower part of the Tower Bridge in London.

There are a few forbidden zones for stunt planes around the world. The Grand Canyon, the Gateway Arch in St Louis, the Eiffel Tower, touch and goes on the Great Wall of China; just to name a few.

Crowds on the top catwalk gathered quickly looking down on the small planes fast approach. Excited young faces rushed to the other side as the small planes engines roared across the threshold.

The crowd did not see 761 emerge on the other side.

To the surprise of everyone the defining noise suddenly dissipated. 761 was gone. Vanished. Swallowed up by the very air they were all breathing.

* * *

The pilot of 761 awoke to voices. His head throbbing.

“Amelia he just came through the gate,” a male voice said.

Tower Bridge, London

Tower Bridge, London

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July 13th, 2015

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“I don’t know why people think I’m crazy,” said an old British man.

“Maybe because I am different.”

There was once an old British man who people believed was crazy but he thought he was completely normal. He had a wife named Margaret and she loved his sense of humor.

“Maybe,” said Margaret as she was brewing tea in the kitchen.

The old man really needed a job and he had an idea.

“I will look at the clouds and what I see will be my job,” said the old man confidently and he went to the park with Margaret and laid on the damp grass.

“I can see something!” shouted the happy old man as he knew what his job would be.

“What?” asked Margaret excitedly.

“A fisherman,” said the old man. “Thank you sky.”

This story is brought to you by my 10 year old step daughter Sarah. She tried out Friday Fictioneers last week and has decided to give the Sunday Photo Fiction a try. Hopefully she will continue. – Danny (More stories by Sarah.)

Tower Bridge, London

Tower Bridge, London

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July 12th, 2015

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Detective Mario wiggled in a steel chair. The duct tape that bound his wrists tugged at his arm hair.

“Just like it says on the sign Detective. This is a front,” Luigi lit a cigarette taking a long drag.

“Sure, we sell fish, but the diamonds you collected,” he made air quotes, “as evidence, are worth more than your life.”

“Bowser is using you brother. Can’t you see?” Mario pleaded. Luigi quickly extinguished the cigarette’s lit cherry into Mario’s wrist.

“Mamma Mia!” Mario yelped.

“You leave me no choice,” Luigi said. He slipped a white gloved hand deep into his green overalls digging for his gun.

Mario bit down hard on a hallow tooth full of mushroom essence. Each cell in his body swelled exploding his size in an instant.

The duct tape snapped and his hands were free as the steel chair crinkled under his weight.

Mario’s rapid transformation sent out a shock wave that knocked Luigi onto his back.

Under the shadow of his brother’s crushing brown loafer, he would need to decide, in which kingdom did his loyalties truly lie.

111-07-july-5th-2015Sunday Photo Fiction – July 5th 2015

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July 5th, 2015

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“I’m going to kill you Tommy!”

“Rose, I’m ten and you are only five. Plus, I’ll tell Mom.”

They both stood as Titans squaring off at the side of the families’ old white paint chipped house.

Each child controlled a massive blood thirsty creature eight times their size ready to eviscerate the other.

Tommy struck first willing his beast to attack. Massive jaws opened and closed snapping at the throat of Rose’s monster.

“You’re hurting her!” Rose forced her monster’s great claws low to swipe at Tommy’s monster’s legs.

The creature stumbled and began to bleed. Rose’s smile was quickly thwarted as she saw the bloodlust in her brother’s eyes.

“Kids! Dinners ready. Get in here before it gets too dark,” Mom’s voice shouted.

“You’re lucky,” Tommy sneered.

“Whatever, let’s go.”

The two children trotted around to the porch. Their monsters bounced behind them as affixed doppelgangers before vanishing into nothing.

The long shadow battle would resume tomorrow at sunset.

The sun setting behind buildings

The sun setting behind buildings

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Monster Art by http://vegasmike.deviantart.com/

June 22nd, 2015

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