A..."short" short story. My first. Comment on it, please. Rate it if you wish, and I would enjoy it if you gave me a few helpful tips on my writing. Thank you. Thomas sat in his quaint little room, a jumble of papers on his desk. The room itself was already cluttered with bits of this and that, such as old, discarded comic books and dirty pizza boxes. His bed smelled of pee and sweat, and the walls were yellowed and slightly cracked with age. A tiny, old-style TV sat in a corner, it's deep black colour fitting perfectly with the darkened shades of the room. The only thing out of place was Thomas, a bored look on his face. "Man, am I bored," he said to himself, as if stating the obvious to some unknown audience. He stared at the stack of papers in front of him, counting over nine-thousand sheets. Perhaps I should write something? He thought. "Dinner's ready!" called his mother from downstairs. "I'm coming!" Thomas called back. He grimaced as he heard the immature caterwauling of his brother from the other room. "Ha! You said 'I'm coming'!" "Shut up, Bobby!" He yelled back. Sighing, Thomas sat back in his chair. "Well, I might as well write something before dinner", he told himself. Picking up a small, orange pencil from behind his large globe, he began to write. CROCODILE PIZZA "Look at this!" Called out the mustached man. Two men were sitting in front of a large, circular table. It was draped in a large scarlet cloth, with a small candle in the middle. Both men wore the exact same clothes: black suits with red ties. One would almost think they were twins, if not for the mustache of the one on the left. "What is it, Steve?" Asked the non-mustached man. "They have Crocodile Pizza on the menu, Jim! Ha! Crocodile Pizza!" Steve replied. Jim stared at the small text that Steve was pointing it. "Oh my, you're quite right!" "I'm always right, Jim." "What would you like tonight, sirs?" asked the waiter. He looked suspiciously like Steve, with the exception of the suit. As a joke, Steve handed the waiter both menus while shaking the waiter's hand, and proudly saying "Crocodile Pizza!" The waiter's eyes widened. "Crocodile Pizza, sirs?" "Yes! Hurry up, too!" "Sirs, we have no such thing as 'Crocodile Pizza'" Jim narrowed his eyes. "Yes you do! It's on your menu! Go look for yourself, there's even a picture of a crocodile there." The waiter opened up one of the menus, and stared at the picture of the crocodile. After a while, he sighed. "We don't have Crocodile Pizza because there aren't any crocodiles in the Northern United States." Jim and Steve looked at him, shocked. They clearly did not know this. "What a lame story," Thomas said to himself, as he crumpled up the single sheet of paper and threw it at the small dustbin near his desk, missing by a centimeter. He got off his chair and immediately ran down the stairs, ready for dinner. What he didn't realize was that Jim and Steve were his uncles, and this story did actually happen.
The ending left me all confused. It was an ankward story, but otherwise good...kinda pointless though. Though...I laughed a bit with the "I'm coming" part. xD
Well, I mean, that happened to his uncles, meanwhile he wrote without knowing it happened? that's a bit confusing.
