Below you will find the results of my having challenged myself for a number of days to write a short story with a beginning and middle and an end inside of 30 minutes. Here is what I came up with. I hope you like it.

“Well, there’s three of us.”


“Well, I’m gonna be Sherlock Holmes and Brian’s gonna be Watson. Who are you gonna be?”

“I’m gonna be a Vulcan.”

“Like Mr. Spock, a Vulcan?”

“Yeah. Mr. Spock. Surak. Those guys.”

“Yeah, but you don’t get it. Brian and I are gonna be guys from Victorian England. It’s not gonna make sense if you’re, like, future guy.”

“Well, maybe I can dress up like a Vulcan who is visiting Victorian England. I’ll have the ears and stuff, but I’ll wear, I dunno, spats and a collar.”

“Collars were earlier. Elizabethan collars.”

“You know what I mean.”

“I dunno, man. I don’t think it’s gonna work. People are gonna get confused.”

“About what?”

“About why I’m Sherlock Holmes and Brian is Watson and you’re Star Trek boy.”

“You don’t think they’re gonna be already confused on account of Sherlock weighs 300 pounds?”

“That’s a dick thing to say.”

“I was getting into the spirit of the occasion.”

“You’re still a dick.”

“You still weigh 300 fucking pounds. You’re not gonna look like Sherlock Holmes; you’re gonna look like a big tweed tent wearing a hat.”

“You know what… Brian and I were gonna let you tag along. You were gonna be Professor Moriarty.”


“Oh, I guess you don’t know everything.”

“Never said I did.”

“You implied it.”

“I implied that I know everything?”

“Professor Moriarty is Sherlock Holmes’ mortal enemy.”

“Like Lecter?”

“Before that.”

“That wasn’t gonna confuse people? What? Was I gonna wear a sign saying who I was?”

“People would know.”


“You’re not coming with us.”

“I’m the only who can drive.”

“Fuck you. You can drop us off at the convention center and pick us up later.”

“Bullshit. I’m coming with you and I’m dressing up like Pikachu.”

“No fucking way.”

“Yep. Better learn how to drive, soon. You’re what? 28?”

“I have a problem with my vision.”

“Bullshit. You have panic attacks.”

“Who told you that?”

“I figured it out.”



3 thoughts on “Vulcan!

  1. Nice one!
    “You don’t think they’re gonna be already confused on account of Mr. Spock weights 300 pounds?”
    should read:
    “You don’t think they’re gonna be already confused on account of Sherlock Holmes weighs 300 pounds?”


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