Awkwardly Moments: D+D Edition

This is just plain silly, but I guess that's the point. For quality 50-word stories go here: 50-to-1 For mildly amusing 50-word stories, continue reading.

Broads and Broadswords

We settled down with our drinks, some friends and I. Large breasted women wrestled on the television. Their ample bosoms heaved and swayed as they tore at each other. The Dungeon Master shut off the TV and started up ''Midnight Syndicate,'' the official role playing soundtrack.

''The game is afoot!''

Overawe

Droth, the dark elf, exploded into flame, incinerating his guides, as he gripped the orb of power.

“Did you see that!?” I cried at the prim girl – a loose aquaintance who had stopped in to wait for a ride.

All she saw were dorks, plastic figurines, and dice.

Rash

Those were sad times, when I'd browse Craig's list, in hopes that I could fill the void in my life with one night stands. All the ads made clear that I need be D+D free. This vexed me – I love D+D.

I told my woes to a friend. He laughed.

Awkwardly Moments

I apologize for a lack of posts recently. Life, in a word, has been tumultuous.

I've been dabbling with the idea of a 50 word story series, the premise of which is moments of awkwardness, in all their various guises. I was going to space them out but I figured I'd bang out three and see how they're received before committing to a series. Input, per usual, is appreciated.

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Corny

''I just pooped a corn cob.'' A friend called to say.

''Did you swallow it or pass out at a frat party?''

''I definitely swallowed it.''

''How does that happen!? Hey, remember the time you swallowed a T-bone.''

''Right.''

''Hell, I've seen you puke a whole plum, sticker and all.''

Tit Stain

The corpulent blob, not weighing an ounce under four-hundred pounds, lifted his breast, revealing a sweat stain beneath. With his free hand he scratched at the tit stain vigorously.

In his enraptured state he was oblivious to where his eyes fixed themselves. The gawking child in his gaze went unnoticed.

Grandma, You Are Missed

My Grandfather, of 68, called me, asking me to meet him. He frequently invites me to lunch in a similar manner. His actual motives couldn't have been less benign.

''I signed up for speed dating but I can't do it alone, so I signed you up too.''

Obliged, I agreed.