Sock Puppet Theatre

October 14, 2006

Show, don’t tell

Filed under: Excercises,Fiction,Fusion,Sci-Fi — thepuppet @ 10:04 pm

Godzilla was angy and frustrated.


The great lizard shoved the table from his waist and and started to rise. The blond on the right fumbled forward to grab her Apple Martini, but ended up wearing most of it across her green Dior. The red-head on the right fared better with her drink, but was bowled over by Godzilla when the table, securely bolted to the floor, did not move very far.


“Jeshush!” he screamed lurching forward in a semi fall over the red-head now laying on the floor. “Your freegin leeshes…”

He reached out and placed a scaley hand on the table and regained his balance. The top two buttons on his Versace shirt had popped open and his Ray Bans sat crooked across his nose. He threw his free hand up, trying to block his face.

“Bernie, where are the freegin bouncers?” Godzilla shrieked, looking back into the gathering crowd behind him.

A small black haired man in an ill fitting blue suit, appeared and clawed at his arm. “Zilla, man, they’re comin’ now cool down.”

Godzilla turned his attention to Bernie Yamamoto, his Tokyo agent.

“Screw these bastards, get ’em away from me. Not after what they did to Mothra… no freegin way I’m letting them…”


Godzilla turned with a small puff of smoke shot from his nostrils, Ray Bans still askew. He stutter-stepped forward again and inhaled, swelling his chest. He bared his teeth, almost smiling, certainly sneering and exhaled.



The New York Post guy went up in flames before he could scream. The crowd screamed for him.

I got the shot.


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