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FlAsH Fiction Honorable Mentions
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Poetry
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Steph (@notAnneFlanagan)
Statement of Inspiration: A conglomerate of Thursday morning sketches, lockdown, live show experiences, M&Gs, Twitter conversations, Patreon content, meetings with new-found FAH friends, travels, new experiences and everything connected to that!
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Comedic Effects
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An ache in your belly, cheeks that hurt
And sides that are sore from laughing so much
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A head full of pun lines and banter and silly jokes
And a grin you can't wipe from your face
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A perfect means of escapism, a happy place
And a reason not to hate Thursday mornings
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But also
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That one song that's kept me sane during lockdown
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Those few lines that cheer me up on the worst days
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And that handful of very special people that I've met along the way
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Short Story
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@emmapropername
Statement of Inspiration: A sketch idea I thought the lads might write while on tour here in the Antipodes - as they did not, you know what they say, if you want something done right, do it yourself.
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Fifty Australian/New Zealand Locations (in One Conversation)
“Hey, how was the party last night?”
He groans as he settles in front of the couch. “Christchurch, what a mess.”
His friends respond with a unified grimace. “That bad, huh?”
“I swear to god, these parties are the Brisbane of my existence,” he says, settling in to tell them all about it. “The whole thing was total Auckland.”
“What was the party for anyway?”
It takes him a second to remember. “Oh, I think it was Victoria’s Perth day.”
“You know I never understood why we make such a fuss of the day anyone just happens to be Melbourne,” his taller mate pipes in.
“Yeah, me neither,” he admits. “Anyway, the whole thing started going south when Sydney went and twisted her ankle because her shoe got a Broken Hill.”
“Why does that girl insist on wearing stillettos when she knows she can’t walk in them?” asks his other mate.
“Oh, you know her, she has very low self-Tamworth. Anyway, like she wasn’t having a rough enough night, out of nowhere Griffith comes up to her, asks her to take off her Canberra!”
“Christchurch!” exclaims the tall one.
“Can’t say he’s not Frankston,” he says, giving Griffith that much credit. “Anyway, she’s insecure enough I was afraid she might say Yass, except she’d heard he’d been trying to Mount Martha.”
“Martha, really?”
“Oh he was trying to Mount Martha, Mount Eliza, Mount Kosciuszko. The man’s an animal.”
“Sounds like he wanted it Four Ways.”
He sniggers at that. “Yeah, but he wasn’t getting any. Apparently he couldn’t stop his Exmouth-ing off to all the other girls about how tiny his dick is. Think Bart was still willing to go to bed with him though. That Hobart.”
“You sure?”
“Well, something was Rockhampton-ing upstairs anyway. Pretty sure Bart at least gave him a Hahndorf job.”
His blond mate raises his eyebrows, surprised. “I never thought Griffith would be into a Mannum.”
“Eh. I think he’s the kind of guy who gets so horny it doesn’t Parramatta. Anything in order Tocumwal.”
“I don’t know where he gets that level of entitlement.”
“Oh he’s a real Richmond prick. Anyway, I wanted to get out of there, and I was hungry, so I made my way to the kitchen.”
“Food any good?”
"Eh, they tried to make a Beef Wellington, but it didn’t really work out,” he tells them. “Anyway, while I’m there, Annandale start getting into a major fight – swear those two are gonna break up any day now.”
His tall mate nods knowingly. “Let me guess, Lily was there?”
That makes him laugh. “Yeah, Lilydale is still definitely a thing. Wouldn’t be surprised if they’d hooked up already,” he says, remembering the way Lily had fluttered her eyelashes at Dale so shamelessly he could hardly blame Ann for wanting to drive a knife through the wall.
“So, how Geelong did that go on for?”
“Oh god, it felt like forever, I was Bega-ing for it to be over. So I went back to the living room, but Sydney and Griffith were still fighting. He called her a fat Cowra, but then she really took it too far, she called him a Coober Pedy! Then Evan tried to intervene, you know, break them apart, but Griffith went and smashed a bottle right over Evan’s Head!” The two of them gawp at that information, but he can’t wait for them to respond before he carries on. “Then Alice Springs up, jumps up on the Fremantle, and knocks over Victoria’s grandma’s ashes!”
“What happened next?”
That’s a bloody good question, but the answer is going to be disappointing. “I don’t know, because out of nowhere, Adelaide goes and grabs me by the hand – do you know Adelaide?”
“No. Weird name.”
“Weird girl. She takes me out on the Lawn Hill in the middle of a storm, wanting to watch the Lightning Ridge!” He’s seen lightning a thousand times in his life, he’s not sure what the big deal was meant to be. “Of course it was Birdsville out there as well, the fuckers almost pecked my eyes out. And it’s the middle of Winton so I was freezing. She also showed me this ring, told me it was a real Emerald, but I’m pretty sure it was just an Opalton.” He lets out a deep sigh. As if the night hadn’t been weird enough without someone trying out their Manic Pixie Dreamgirl cosplay.
After he awkward silence that falls, he wonders if he hasn’t shared a bit too much information. Then his taller friend pipes up: “Weren’t they hiring that drag act for entertainment?”
That jolts his memory. “Oh yeah, the Queensland-ed around ten, but by then it was too late, the whole thing was a mess. I wanted to leave early, but someone insisted we all stay until we could see the Sunshine. But by the end of the night, there was a real Rushworth to get out the door.”
His blonde friend gives a sympathetic grimace. “I’m guessing the house was trashed?”
Honestly at that point his memory is getting pretty hazy. “Oh, yeah, I think I saw someone get the Broome out.” He sighs, having run out of interesting stories and being ready to wrap it up in a neat bow. “On the whole, I’d say I got Blackall from going to that party.”
That earns snickers from the two of them. “Wish you’d stayed home and smoked a Tittybong instead, huh?” asks his blonde friend.
He laughs at that. Alright, maybe his reputation as a bit of a stoner precedes him. “Oh yeah.”
“Well, say what you will,” his tall friend says, diplomatically, “doesn’t sound like it was Nullabor-ing.”
“Guess not. Anyway, I should get some rest, see ya tomorrow?” he says, getting up to make his way to his bedroom for a nap.
“Night, Logan.”
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