The Best Short Stories
Some of these short stories are true; while others have only a grain of truth; all are ideal for embellishing when you spin a yarn to your friends.
The Best Short Stories
A carload of hunters, on holiday, were looking for a place to hunt, pulled into a farmer's yard in County Waterford, Ireland. The driver, Brannagh, went up to the farmhouse to ask permission to hunt on the farmer's land.
The old farmer said, 'Sure you can hunt, but would you be doing me a favour? That old donkey standing over there is 20 years old and sick with cancer, but I don't have the heart to kill her. Would you do it for me?'
Brannagh replied, 'Of course I will,' and strolled back to the car.
While walking back, however, Brannagh decided to play a trick on his hunting friends. He got into the car and when they asked if the farmer had said if it was alright, he said, 'No, we can't hunt here, but I'm going to teach that old fellow a lesson he won't forget.'
With that, the Irishman rolled down his window, stuck his gun out and shot the donkey. As he shouted, 'To be sure, that will teach him,' a second shot rang out from the passenger side and one of his hunting mates yelled, 'And me, begorrah, I got the cow.'
Here I am sitting in the house the whole damn cold, snowy, dreary winter with a sick cat who can't eat, while I can't stop eating. As I finish another brownie I start telling myself to stop, but somehow my hands and mouth refuse to listen to my brain.
If I stay away from the scale I will have no idea if I've gained any weight. Who can tell when you spend the day in sweats or a bathrobe anyway? In the old days before retirement I had to dress decently and make it out the door. Not anymore.
Anyway, it is just not worth trying to battle the ice and snow on the hill where I live. Or on our cars. We haven't put a car in the garage in 30 years--it is loaded with bicycles, tires, tools, and other stuff we never use, while our four old cars sit outside covered with snow, all with batteries that die in cold weather.
Eighteen years ago I thought that buying a house on a hill was charming, but now at 71, that hill leaves me in fear of broken bones. Old brittle bones creak and crack easily. Break a major one and you are done for. Just a broken toe has caused me to put all my beautiful expensive high heels on the shelf where I can admire them from a distance only.
Being stuck inside for four months can make one stir crazy. Cabinets and drawers have been cleaned, books have been read, games played on the internet, and all conversation between me and my husband put at a standstill. Thank God--otherwise, might kill each other because of too much togetherness!
We even tried sex but hell, we're in our seventies, and we were worried if we got too frisky that the ambulance would have trouble getting up the icy hill. So here I am cooking, baking, and eating again.
Actually, the beloved Spring to which I've so looked forward is on my dread list, because I will have to fit into real clothes and eventually a bathing suit.
I'd better get a Krispy Kreme doughnut before I go into a deep depression!
Will and Guy appreciate being able to publish this story from an author who knows how to craft words. See more work by Charlene Wexler.
The Funny Story of the Lady and The Lavatory or Water Closet (WC)
Many years ago, remember Will and Guy, you couldn't count on a public toilet facility when travelling either at home or abroad.
This true, short and funny story is about an English woman who was planning a trip of a lifetime to India. She had booked in to stay in a small guest house owned by the local schoolmaster. She was concerned as to whether the guest house contained a WC.
In Britain, a bathroom is occasionally called a WC which stands for "Water Closet".
This, rather genteel lady wrote to the schoolmaster inquiring about the WC. The school master who was not very fluent in English, asked the local priest if he knew the meaning of WC.
Together they pondered possible meanings of the letters and concluded that the lady wanted to know if there was a "Wayside Chapel" near the house . . . a bathroom never entered their minds.
The Hilarious Reply
Will and Guy are able to share with you the schoolmaster's reply - it could cause paroxysms of mirth.
I take great pleasure in informing you that the WC is located 9 miles from the house. It is located in the middle of a grove of pine trees, surrounded by lovely grounds. It is capable of holding 229 people and is open on Sundays and Thursdays. As there are many people expected in the summer months, I suggest you arrive early. There is, however, plenty of standing room. This is an unfortunate situation especially if you are in the habit of going regularly.
It may be of some interest to you that my daughter was married in the WC as it was there that she met her husband. It was a wonderful event. There were 10 people in every seat. It was wonderful to see the expressions on their faces. We can take photos in different angle.
My wife, sadly, has been ill and unable to go recently. It has been almost! a year since she went last, which pains her greatly. You will be pleased to know that many people bring their lunch and make a day of it. Others prefer to wait till the last minute and arrive just in time.
I would recommend your ladyship plan to go on a Thursday as there is an organ accompaniment. The acoustics are excellent and even the most delicate sounds can be heard everywhere. The newest addition is a bell which rings every time a person enters. We are holding a bazaar to provide plush seats for all since many feel it is long needed. I look forward to escorting you there myself and seating you in a place where you can be seen by all.
With deepest regards,
Will and Guy believe the lady fainted on receipt of the letter and cancelled her holiday to India immediately.
The Best Short Stories According to Will and Guy
Paresh, an Indian carpenter I once hired to help me restore my old farmhouse, had just finished a difficult and hard first day on the job. A flat tyre on his lorry made him lose an hour of work, his electric saw packed in, and now his ancient pickup truck refused to start. While I drove him home, Paresh sat in stony, thoughtful silence.
On arriving, Paresh, in the way of all Indian gentlefolk, invited me in to meet his family. As we walked toward the front door, he paused briefly at a small tree, touching the tips of the branches with both hands.
When opening the door to his home, he underwent an amazing transformation. His tanned face wreathed in smiles and he hugged his two small children and gave his wife a kiss.
After a cup of tea, he walked me to my car. We passed the tree and my curiosity got the better of me. I asked him about what I had seen him do earlier.
'Oh, that's my trouble tree,' Paresh replied. 'I know I can't help having troubles on the job, but one thing for sure, troubles don't belong in the house with my wife and the children. So I just hang them on the tree every night when I come home. Then in the morning I pick them up again. Funny thing is', he smiled winningly, 'when I come out in the morning to pick them up, there aren't nearly as many as I remember hanging up the night before.'
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There were once four wise Indian medicine men who were considered to be the most clever and knowledgeable across all the prairies and forests. They learned nearly everything about nearly anything and were often asked for advice and to find solutions for the most difficult problems.
One day, a young Indian boy asked which of the four was the wisest because of course there must be one more wise than the others. This caused much arguing and debating among the people. To find out once and for all, one of the elders of the nation was given the task of devising a test to settle the matter.
After much consideration, the perfect test was put before them. The four medicine men were told to walk into the woods. Their test would be found at the base of a single cedar tree in a broad clearing.
They started out early the next morning and, after walking many miles, came to the tree in the clearing. At the base of the tree was a large pile of bleached bones. They appeared to be those of some sort of animal. The four puzzled over the bones for some time before the first man spoke. 'I will use my knowledge to put these bones back together. That will prove my wisdom.' After some time, the bones stood erect and interlocking.
The men examined the project and the second man said, 'Ah, I know where these bones came from. I can put flesh and fur back on them and restore the animal's beauty.' The second man began his work, and in a while a fierce-looking grizzly bear stood before them.
The four men marvelled at the animal's beauty, but the two began to bicker about which ones work was best. Just then, the third man spoke up, 'I believe I can bring the bear back the life. Then I will be the greatest of all.'
The fourth man had been quiet until now. 'Wait, I don't think our test was to see if we could bring the animal back to life.' He pleaded, but the others would not listen. When he realised he was being ignored, he quietly climbed to the top of the cedar tree and watched.
The third man got busy and soon had breathed life into the grizzly bear using his great talents. The bear stretched and roared. Then he chased the men growling and clawing at them. He chased them all the way back to their village where they were finally rescued by the village's mighty hunters.
Later, the fourth wise man walked back to the village. Everyone had taken him for dead, the others were so busy arguing they did not see him climb the tree. It was then that everyone realised that he was indeed the wisest of all.
Bring Me The Winner
Waiter, this lobster has only one claw.
I'm sorry, sir. It must have been in a fight.
Well then bring me the winner.
The Miser Gets His Just Reward: A Funny and Salutary Story
Bryan, had worked all of his life and had saved all of his money.
He was a real miser when it came to his finances. Bryan loved money more than just about anything, and just before he died, he said to his wife, Emma, 'Now listen, Emm, when I die, I want you to take all my money and place it in the casket with me. I want to take my money to the afterlife.'
So he demanded that Emma promised him with all her heart that when he died, she would put all the money in the casket with him.
Well, of course, one day he died. Bryan was stretched out in the casket, Emma was sitting there in black next to her closest friend. When they finished the ceremony, just before the undertakers got ready to close the casket, the wife said, 'Wait just a minute.'
Emma had a shoe box with her, she came over with the box and placed it in the casket. Then the undertakers locked the casket down and rolled it away.
She replied with a twinkle in her eye, 'Yes, I promised. I'm a good Christian, I can't lie. I promised him that I was going to put that money in that casket with him.'
'You mean to tell me you put every cent of his money in the casket with him?' spluttered the friend.
'I sure did,' said Emma. 'I got it all together, put it into my account and I wrote him a cheque.'
An escaped convict has been recaptured at a party organised at the local police station. Police in Xinzhu city, Taiwan, invited residents to celebrate the Moon Festival with them. Officers could not believe their eyes when they saw an escaped drug dealer called Chen, who had just been listed as one of the city's most wanted criminals, at the party.
Police officer Cai Zhengtong, who was in charge of the barbecue, said, 'I saw a man dressed in an eye-catching yellow windbreaker enter the place and sit in the corner. He was enjoying the barbecue with the others. I really couldn't believe my eyes, since the man was just the criminal we were seeking.'
Police at the party quickly arrested Chen. He told officers he thought it would have been the last place police would have thought of looking for him.
One day at work, Bob was bragging that he knew everyone that was anyone. His boss, Rod, got tired of his boasting and decided to check it all out.
He said, 'OK Bob, how about Clint Eastwood? Do you know him?'
'Oh sure,' said Bob. 'He and my Dad shoot grouse together and he's a great guy.'
'OK, prove it,' said Rod. 'Let's fly out to Carmel, USA, and you can introduce me.'
'Great.' said Bob. And so they did. They took a taxi to Mr. Eastwood's estate, Bob knocks on the door, Mr. Eastwood opens it and shouts, 'Bob! Hey, great to see you! You and your friend come on in and have lunch.'
Ron was very was impressed, but still rather sceptical. When they left after lunch, he said, 'That was a coincidence that you knew Clint Eastwood. How about President Obama?'
'Sure, I know him,' replied Bob. So, they fly off to Washington, DC and head to the White House. As they are touring the grounds, Mr Obama sees Bob and comes right over saying, 'My word, Bob, I haven't seen you in a couple years. Come on in, have some coffee and let's catch up.'
After a couple hours, Bob and his boss, Ron, are escorted off the White House grounds and Bob asks his boss, 'Well, do you believe me now?'
His boss, shaken and a bit bewildered, but still not completely convinced says, 'I'll believe you if you show me you know one more person - the Pope.'
'Certainly,' says Bob, 'I've known Pope Benedict since I was just a little kid. Let's fly over to Italy.'
So, off to Rome they fly and join a mass of people in St Peter's Square waiting to catch a glimpse of the Pope.
Bob says, 'There's no way I can get the Pope's attention with all these people here. How about if I go talk to one of the guards I know and then I'll come out on the balcony and wave.'
Ron patiently waits as Bob heads off into the crowd. About 15 minutes later, the Pope emerges on the balcony and right beside him is Bob waving to the crowd.
When Bob returned a few minutes later to where he had left his boss, there were paramedics there surrounding his boss laying on the ground - he had had a heart attack. Bob rushes up and asks what happened. Ron looks up at him and gasps, 'I was doing OK when you came out on the balcony. But then the guy next to me asks 'Hey, who's that up on there on the balcony with Bob?'
Money in Muck - Short Story Sent By a Reader
When I was a child my family was quite poor and my Father and Mother worked very hard for little reward. We often moved as my father sought better employment and at the time of this story I was 10 years old. The family consisted of my father, mother, 2 year old twin brother & sister and myself. My father had just got a new job but at the time we had no house, instead the five of us lived in a caravan on a site that was run by a farmer who made Scrooge look generous.
This man made everyone's life a misery as what services he did offer were few and far between and cost the earth. However, at the time it was the best situation my father could find for us. The caravan park was many miles from the town centre in Newbury and as we did not have a car or any other transport, the farmer always had the upper hand.
Living in the caravan at that time had many drawbacks, one of which was that the caravan park had no amenities other than the farmers shop (inflated prices). I cannot describe the misery of the place accurately, you had to live there to appreciate it. One of the main problems as you might guess were toilet facilities, or total lack of them. In our caravan they consisted of a 5 gallon chemical toilet in a cupboard, laughingly called a 'bathroom', you couldn't swing a cockroach in let alone a cat!
Every day or so the farmer would arrive on a tractor towing a trailer fitted with a small container similar to a petrol tanker that the 'inmates' dutifully queued up at to empty their toilets into. My mother called it the 'walk of shame'. However, as children we thought it funny and the minute we saw the farmer arriving would run around chanting 'Sam, Sam the lavatory man'! In hindsight it was degrading to see decent people being so embarrassed over such an unpleasant task.
Unfortunately Sam was not a pleasant character and would often
take umbrage over nothing and close the shop, or worse still withdraw the toilet collection service for
I remember this happening many times. On one occasion he withdrew the toilet 'service' for over two weeks without any signs of restoration. A group of desperate men threatened to commandeer the tractor & trailer to ease the situation, this only made things worse with him. Even the pleadings of the women in the caravan park fell on deaf ears!
In our caravan things were soon reaching the point of no return and I remember my father returning from yet another appeal to the farmer without success. My mother being a very house-proud woman was beside herself over the situation. Several people on the site had taken drastic action and emptied their toilets into a ditch which ran along the back of the site near to our caravan. My mother thought this was terrible and would have no part in this until sadly we were left with no other option.
That evening my mother made my father wait until it was dark before she allowed him to remove the chemical toilet, the shame for her was too much to bear. As you can imagine this was an extremely delicate task as the toilet was really at critical mass level. My father gently walked across the grass to the ditch as if he was carrying a flask of nitro-glycerine, I remember this took an eternity. My mother was red faced with shame and luckily for her was hiding inside the caravan and therefore spared what happened next.
Eventually my father reached the top of the ditch without spilling any of the contents of the toilet but unfortunately as people had been there before him the ground was slippery. As my father was about to empty the toilet he lost his balance and I can only describe it as a windmilling action that I saw as he endeavoured to stay upright. Sadly, he never made it and flew through the air landing face down in the bottom of the ditch amongst the debris that previous desperate people had left. A split second later our toilet landed upon his back covering him from head to foot.
I ran over to the ditch and looked down at my poor father who looked like something from an old Quatermass movie. I cannot describe the look of disbelief and horror on his face but to this day I can see it as clearly as yesterday. Suddenly, with an almighty roar, a tractor and trailer materialise from nowhere and at that exact moment the headlights flicked on catching my father standing knee deep in the ditch arms outstretched like Jesus on the cross. However, Jesus never held an empty 5 gallon chemical toilet in his left hand or had bits of toilet paper etc. all over him.
I remember the farmer yelling at my father 'Blo*o*dy typical, you moan and groan and then you have the nerve to blo*o*dy well use my ditch. That's the last time I do you a favour!'. With that he put the tractor in gear and drove back to the farm leaving my father standing speechless in the ditch. In seconds my father was surrounded by people all wanting to have a laugh at his expense, well when I say surrounded they actually stayed upwind of him. My mother was conspicuous by her absence only appearing briefly to tell my father he couldn't come back in 'like that'.
After a few gallons of water out in the cold night air he cleaned up quite nicely but the smell took about 2 days to dissipate. In fact, I think it disappeared at about the same time as my behind stopped smarting. My father didn't take kindly that night to my hysterical tears and laughter at his disposition! I can't blame him, but even 40 years later I still smile and giggle whenever I think about that night. Happily after all these years my father and mother can see the funny side of it now and laugh about it, but never, ever, ever, as much as I did that night.
Luckily, shortly after this episode my father found us a house in Newbury and we moved. After that the families prospects increased over the years so this was the turning point for us. Perhaps the saying is true that there really is 'Money in Muck'.
I assure you this story is absolutely 100% true.
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