The one sentence story

He fired at the first Sherman, then the next, then the next, until he had run out of ammunition, so he planted explosives in the turret, set the to go off in half an hour, and ran all the way home, where he found PzJgr playing with his beloved Stug, so, in a fit of rage, got his field telephone, he called in waves of P-47s, Typhoons and IL-2s against his ex-Stug and it's new commander; the aircraft blew it to pieces, so Mr. Bull collapsed and started to cry like a baby.

 

suddenly he realised: "I most be bloody dreaming."

 

But actually, he was dreaming.

 

Waking up from a fitful sleep, he found it was still too early in the morning to get up to work, so he rolled over to his wife's side but she wasn't there. He stood on his elbow wondering. Where was she? He sat up on the bed, looked at the bathroom door but there was no strip of light showing underneath it, in fact it was ajar. He got up, slid into his slippers, and went out the door. The baby's room door was closed, he turned the doorknob, but nothing special, the kid sleeped peacefully. "Ne réveillez pas le lion qui pause", thought he remembering the dictum from Talleyrand. Downstairs all quiet. The TV was off, no light in the kitchen, all outside closed and locked. All the wife's coats were there. His well-tubed hearing detected some kind of rythmic sound coming from the right. The basement door? He turned the door knob and yes, there was a noise as he slowly and carefully pushed the door a centimetre or two. Definitely, it sounded like the PC keyboard! So that explained the mistery, his wife was at the PC, but what was she doing there at sucha a late hour? Then he heard a cackle! But that was a deep tone, a male voice! With a sudden blood flush he decided to run up the stairs to get his Glock .40 but no, first he wanted to take a llook first. The light was dim, it appeared to be only the computer screen light. He slid down the staircase, trying to avoid all noise, holding his breathing. He stooped, and what he saw left him frozen. His wife was stretched on his leather easy chair, each arm at each side, and with her right hand slowly caressing the thigh of a man who caresses her arm with his left hand and with his right fingers tapped at the keyboard, while his shoulders went up and down with his giggling. His back looked scrawny, stooped shoulders, he looked like he wore a soiled uniform, at least by the contrast with the computer screen he seemed to have epaullettes! Yes, on her lap was a peak cap! With a muffled laughter he turned his face to the left, smileed, sat on the easy chairs arm, bent over to kiss her and whispered "Now dear, they'll go crazy when they find Za and I just got hired by the Bechtel Group and are heading to the States at last!"

 

But, Za found that Bechtel had strict rules about writing memos and other paperwork and his violation of the "one sentence rule" found in Bechtel's policy statement 1538.01.3C was to be the cause of his immediate termination for crossing the involute requirement that all bureaucratic procedures be followed to the letter.

 

Za sends out a new memo to Mr Gardner stating his executive privilege and immunity from impeachment.

 

Haha, chuckled I, now while they all run amok clobbering Za the Red Herring I'll have my hands free to run from place to place subverting and corrupting the Imperialist Yank society to the very core of its values, in a way that will make old Joe McCarthy's bones shiver in his long forgotten grave, where shadows lie, never to be awaken unless one calls up a mighty spell and brings on the Great Panjandrum, Lord Mountbatten and all, which I'm sure will teach them an infernally great lesson in meddling with the entire Kabballah and Red Orchestra, all personified in the body and mind of The Red Rabbi, for I am soulless and misquoting Oppenheimer I am become Death, Shatterer of Worlds, although I still think this is indeed too great a design for myself, as I am no more than a humble servant of socialism for the working class, which is a concept that can not easily be made clear to everyone; nevertheless the show must go on and a story has to be written, even if I show little inspiration for tales for the bourgeoisie as depicted in the audience of this forum, and as such I shall leave the story telling for another occasion and decide whether it is or is it not time to write the final "period" mark in this sentence, which is giving me immense pleasure in how concise I can make it, as I am sure everyone is noticing and appreciating, and therefore as a gesture to please the audience I take my leave with a bow.

 

Now the story goes on.

 

But then, carelessly, one of the Whitehouse Staff dropped a Banana skin in front of the big red button, just as Bush walked in, who then slipped on the skin and fell on the button, firing hundreds missles right at Russia's major cities.

 

But, he was shocked to see Fidel Castro standing in the room, who said, "go to the nuclear shelter!" then dissapeard, So the Russian did as he was told, then he heard loud explosions coming from outside, so after a while he put on his protective suit and went outside, seeing that every Russian had donned a protective suit and hid in a bunker, it turned out that the Ghost of Castro had warned his freinds in Russia.

 

Studiously avoiding all thoughts of originality:Sing, O goddess, the anger of Achilles son of Peleus, that brought countless ills upon the Achaeans; many a brave soul did it send hurrying down to Hades, and many a hero did it yield a prey to dogs and vultures, for so were the counsels of Jove fulfilled from the day on which the son of Atreus, king of men, and great Achilles, first fell out with one another.

 

And then he fell down the stairs.

 

I fart in your general direction.

 

Said Bob Marley when he found out that Superman was female.

 

"But then I am often found to be wrong", added Bob in a thoughtful mood speaking to himself as if he wanted no one to hear his musing, which however was a wasted effort as the DEA field agents were almost reading his very thoughts by using a directional microphone which in any case would not be able to operate for much longer as its batteries were becoming exhausted, which was a problem as they did not have any spare ones, having spent the last ones in the Nintendo they kept for the lazy hours when Bob Marley slept, which tended to be quite long as he almost never got out of bed before 1 or 2 o'clock in the afternoon after staying up really not too late, until 11pm or midnight at most as he was indeed regenerating fronm a life of dissipation and waste, such as seems in fact quite unapropritae to relate here, this being a family forum and as such not the proper place to dwell on such matters, which after all do belong more to the subject's personal sphere than to a public forum such as this and which after all does not have much to do with matters of this kind, these being perhaps more suited to other forums more to do with matters of the heart, like some ones I have a few dim recollection of seeing them caught by my spam filter but to which I did not pay any attention as in fact I have other more serious matters to attend to like the lack of straw bedding for the impalas in the Hong Kong zoo, which is a cause of concern to me as these impalas were offered to this zoo by the Sultan of Brunei who had some time ago offered a couple of giraffes on which hangs a story which I will have to relate later as my keyboard seems to be developing a fault as you can see, for when I press the zzzzzzzzz key it seems to repeat itself although I don't use the zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz key so often after all, only in words such as gizzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzard, zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzebra, zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzulu and others of the same ilk, which is rather fortunate as it could be much wrse if it were a much mre cmmn wrd, say a vwel like " " which as yu see seems t becme absent frm my keybard as a srt f cmpensatin fr the excess zzzzzzzzzzzz.

 

Then it was announced by the the government that a dangerous criminal, along with an accomplice only known by his initials (RR) is on the run, and there is a reward of £10 000 000 000 000 000 000 000 000 000 000 000 000 000 000 000 000 000 000 000.95 (or $ or whatever) for his head; he is known to lurk upon World War Two websites and has sometimes got a nickname of two words; one beginning with Z and the other beginning with R.

 

Who knows?

 

The writer, who originally, wanted to make a ww2 story sighted. If he kept on having those silly brainstroms, he'll never could make a bestseller in his genre that's for sure.So he took a new paper and put it in his typewriter.And startes typing again

 

AH HA; You used more than one sentence!