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Flash Fiction |
| The stage doorman looked up over a haze of smoke. "Can I help you?" "I'm in the show." The young man looked at the guy like he should know that. "Sign in." A book was pushed in his direction. The pen was attached to it by a piece of string. He duly signed and made to go in. "Not so fast buddy." The doorman read the name. "Your last name, it's a joke, right? You're taking the piss." "No, that's my name." "You foreign?" "No, I'm English." "Then I feel sorry for ya." The young man looked at him quizically. "What sorta parents lumber their kid with a name like Engelbert Humperdinck?" 112 words |