The Curse of the Him-bo

In my writing group, we dedicate every sunday to posting ‘flashers’, which are microfictions of 200 words or under.

It’s bloody difficult! But I gave it a go this Sunday, and thought I’d post this just for fun. 200 words on the nail.

Oh – and for those needing a slang translation, a ‘himbo’ is a male bimbo (good-looking and well-built, but with nominal substance between the ears).

 

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Trains will pass through this station in the imminent future. I won’t recite ALL the details, because you can find them on the departure boards. This is an on-time service from Brighton to Gatwick. Don’t leave your baggage anywhere stupid, or we’ll blow it up.

Greg rolled his eyes as the PA system fell silent. “Malc’s gonna get himself fired one of these days.”

“So… he didn’t get laid last night?”

“He got cock-blocked by an off-duty bouncer.”

Barry grimaced sympathetically. “Dangerous Dave?”

“No, some him-bo with tats.”

“Bugger, poor Malc. Never chooses well.” Barry sighed. “Who was he trying to pull, anyway?”

“Girl called Phili.”

Barry grinned. “Frisky Phili?”

“Mate, you’re the nickname obsessive.”

“Describe her.”

“Curvy, tall, long blonde hair.”

“Pricy threads? Sluttish chuckle?”

“Er, yeah…”

“Oh dear.” Barry snickered, rummaging for his phone. “Dear, oh dear…”

Greg watched as Barry sent a rapid text, cackling to himself. He sipped coffee until Baz was ready to share the joke. “Well?”

“I’ve just told Malc—”

The PA system boomed into life. “Next train ahoy! Have a fantastic day, you lovely, lovely people!

Greg blinked up at the speakers. “Told him what?”

“That Frisky Phili is Dangerous Dave’s bird.”

 

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