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Pilot: Textoons 1 (November 2018)

TextToons

by Gary Smith

She slowly lowered herself into a big chair with a tall back trying to not make the “oooo” sound that hinted at her 62 years of age. She managed it for a second or two then thought “that's just not the ticket” and gave a loud “oooo” anyway. There was nobody around. Nobody heard it, other than the voice inside her head that had been telling her to keep going. It was a well deserved oooo, she thought, then took a sip of the glass of whiskey in her hand.
She wondered how much whiskey she could drink before she could no longer feel her toes. She kicked off her high heels and wiggled her feet and looked at them and sipped. She sipped again. The aim of this project was to drink until those toes stopped wiggling, she thought.
Her husband came into the study and woke her an hour later. “Have you seen my toes?” she slurred to him. It sounded a reasonable thing to ask she thought. “Yes darling and they are perfect. Now come to bed, my love, you have a busy day tomorrow.”

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TextToons

by Gary Smith

It looked like a karate chop to someone who didn't study the martial art that he had a black belt in. He had built up a small sweat and was feeling warmed and contented. He had just given up his job and had some time on his hands. He was waiting for a call from a colleague about a thing he had to decide.
He continued punching the bag using his knees this time. Left leg. Right. Left again. He could feel the stress building in his legs and it felt good.The phone rang. Before answering he took a towel and slowly wiped away the sweat.
He answered the call. He listened. He agreed with the caller. He ended the call and went back to his workout. He mixed in head butts to his leg kicks and punches this time until he had had enough. He showered and dried himself off and then realised he hadn't had enough at all. So he started punching the bag again.

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TextToons

by Gary Smith

He had 47 but he needed 48. “Hmmm,” he thought. Just one more. He sat at his desk looking around. He checked his email again. Then he checked his phone. No calls or messages. Nothing to do until it's 48. He had been expecting 48 by now, maybe more than that but he only had 47. So he had nothing to do but he knew that as soon as he had 48 he had lots to do. But with 47 all he could do was just sit some more.
He would have made himself a cup of coffee but he didn't fancy one. The front door bell rang and he jumped up expectantly. It was an Amazon guy asking if he would take a parcel for next door. He signed and took it, thanking the Amazon guy because he was polite that way. For that brief moment he had forgotten that he only had 47.
Maybe something had happened while he had been away? He walked towards his desk hopefully.

Images in public domain. Text Copyright theVoiceofReason.com

TextToons

by Gary Smith

She knew it would be a problem when she typed it but she typed it anyway.
20XX.
Everybody will assume that could mean 2099 she thought in the back of her head. She chuckled inwardly. She had toyed with puitting 20?? but it felt too uncertain. Like she was writing 20-I-have-no-idea-what-i'm-doing. But 20** felt like it was a swear word. Far too naughty for an official document. So she decided 20XX was the best option. Not lower case x's either, it just didn't look right. 20xx what does that even mean? She thought.

Images in public domain. Text Copyright theVoiceofReason.com

TextToons

by Gary Smith

He sat at his desk. He had sat here for four years during his embezzlment plans. The police were in his outer office now asking to talk to him. It had taken four years to get to now. He sat looking at the walls. He considered that it had been a good run. He had been busy. He had organised secret bank accounts, overstated his company's profits which were actually a loss, he had arranged a secretstock options award to himself which he had cashed earlier in the year. Nobody had said anything.
Who was it who said honesty is everything and if you can fake that you have it made? They were right. People are so stupid to trust some people. They just can't see the thiefs. They see what they want to see if what they are seeing is what they want to see.
Like unbelievable profits for a cake shop. More fool them. Be out of prison in couple of years and got millions of pounds stashed away. Not as good a haul as the bankers, but enough for little old me.

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TextToons

by Gary Smith

SLAMS PHONE DOWN. Looks to see the reaction in the room. LOVE that startled look of the people who haven't been here when I've SLAMMED the phone down before. Love shouting on the phone and then slamming the phone down and then picking the phone up again and slamming it down a second time. That's even more awesome. People with cell phones can't slam phones down. Only awesome people with desk phones can slam the phone down. Important people like me. I'm awesome like that. Who has big desk phones like me these days? Only awesome people that's who.
I love getting stroppy with people on the phone and then slamming the phone down. I like working up to my loud voice and then slamming the phone down. The reaction in the room to that is much better than when I just slam the phone down.
Sometimes they look just as startled when I'm shouting as when I slam the phone down. Right. Gotta have a pee.

Images in public domain. Text Copyright theVoiceofReason.com

TextToons

by Gary Smith

They want to know if I remember some meeting in June 2016. Who remembers meetings over two years ago? Seriously, who does? I don't. I must have had a thousand meetings that month. Maybe two thousand. One meeting out of two thousand meetings? How can I remember one meeting? Theysay oh it's that big meeting.
There aren't any big meetings - meetings are all the same size two years ago. You don't remember the boring bits, the wasted meetings, the sex, they are just meetings.
The media makes it sound like I should know the specifics about one meeting out of the five thousand meetings I had that month. And I just don't. My son told me about it did he? That's what they are saying. Don't remember. Is this why Nixon had those recording devices? Hmmm. That might be useful...

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