CORRECT ME IF I'M WRONG

In the middle of the briefing, the serious man sitting by me wearing a necktie and totally self-confident turned his head and stared at me serioulsy. He intended to express his disagreement with my previous words, so he said very politely:

"Excuse me, sir. Correct me if I'm wrong..."

As soon as he pronounced the last sentence, I didn't let him finish. I just fulfilled his wish. So I caught his assymmetrical head among my hands and twisted and shook it till a crack sounded somewhere in his neck. Then I told him:

"Now you're corrected sir. Now your head is straight".

He didn't reply. Maybe he had changed his mind about what I had previously said. Who knows. Anyway I always like to please people's wishes. It makes me feel good.

Frantz Ferentz, 2013

THE GALICIANCOHOLIC

YOU: My name is M., and I speak Galician.

ALL: Welcome, M.

LEADER: Welcome, M., to Anonymous Galiciancoholic-speakers. Here you can say freely you know Galician. Don't feel ashamed.

YOU: Thank you. It's so embarrassing... People look at me whenever I say one or two sentences in Galician. Shall I ever be cured?

LEADER: Actually not, you'll always have a Galician accent, but you can pretend you come from another dimension. Here you will learn how. And remember, Galician is completely banned here; otherwise, if you just yield one single word in Galician, you'll never overcome Galiciancoholism. 

Frantz Ferentz, 2013

SIMON... SORRY, THE PSYCHOLOGIST SAYS

The woman was about to end her therapy sessions by the psychologist. Actually she didn't feel much better then than when she began to visit the specialist a few weeks ago. As a farewell, the psychologist told her by the door:

"And remember, the only way to be happy and accepted by others is to be yourself..."

«Stupid man», she thought. «I've spent half my economies on his fucking sessions for him just to tell me that. He hasn't still realized I have double personality, so that I cannot be myself, but ourselves...» 

Frantz Ferentz, 2013

IT IS THE DRAGON'S FAULT

"And what do you do for a living?", asked the woman.

"I'm a dragon-hunter", he answered seriously.

"Come on, don't make fun of me", she said smiling.

"Have you ever seen a dragon flying around?"

"No", she said gazing at him eagerly. "How could I? There are no dragons to be seen, man".

"Exactly. That's because I'm a professional",

Frantz Ferentz, 2013

THE REAL MOTIVES OF A STONE

He could not understand why he always tripped over the same stone once and again, until somebody explained him the meaning of the word masochist. From that moment on he kept on tripping over the same stone but he felt sorry for the stone: he was sure it was the stone's fault, it was masochist. 

Frantz Ferentz, 2013

I WAS NOT THAT PERSON

My worst experience in life was to find out I didn't know myself at all. Yes, as a matter a fact I didn't know myself because I was not the person I had always believed I was. But things went even worse when the person I actually was refused to meet me.

Frantz Ferentz, 2013

HOW TO CUT PEOPLE'S HEADS OFF UNDER ALL CIRCUMSTANCES

Many years after Alice's departure from Wonderland, the Queen kept on ordering her soldiers to cut people's heads off whenever she got angry. The soldiers were absolutely afraid of the Queen, so they were capable to decapitate octopuses and mussels if necessary. The problem arose when computers arrived in Wonderland and the Queen got keen on chatting on the computer late at night. Whenever she got angry with an emoticon, she asked her soldiers to chop the emoticons' heads off. However, the Queen's soldiers didn't know how to proceed, because emoticons had just heads. So they decided to add straw bodies to the emoticons to fulfill the Queen's absurd desires and keep their own heads on their shoulders... Fortunately, no emoticons ever suffered any harm, but scarecrows did.

Frantz Ferentz, 2013

SOMETIMES I HEAR VOICES...

"Mum, sometimes I hear voices within myself... D'you think these are spirits or ghosts?"

"Johnnie, the kid has swallowed your transistor again, the one that looks like a biscuit. Bring me the purgative, will you?"

Frantz Ferentz, 2013 

WHY DRAGONS BECAME EXTINCT

"Mum", asked seven-year-old Charlie to his mother, "do you know why dragons don't exist nowadays?"

Charlie's mother was covering her lips with a brilliant rouge. She was impatient to land. She was looking forward to leaving little Charlie with his grandparents during the whole summer, so that she could have three months of full freedom. She'd have time for business, for pleasure and for... anything she came up with. She was a modern woman who just wanted to enjoy life.

"No idea, darling, why?", asked the boy's mum automatically.

"Because in ancient times there were no planes, so they could fly freely, but now there are planes crossing the skies. That's why they've disappeared, because they were always crashing against planes. If I were a knight, I wouldn't kill dragons, but I'd ride them across the skies...

The mum smiled at his son's naivety. For the first time in Charlies' life, she had listened to one of his wisecracks. She still moved her lips carefully to distribute the rouge uniformly, but suddenly she remembered when, as a child, she herself dreamed about being a princess. She had completely forgotten her childhood's dreams, when she could not even mention them to anybody. Her awareness had totally concealed her sad memories. Where had her fancy gone? Then she stared seriously at her son and said to him:

"Let me buy a princess dress at the airport and then let's find a dragon. There must be one somewhere hidden. Then you will tame it and we will ride back home on it, how do you like it?"

Charlie looked at her without believing his eyes:

"Are you mad? Please, think about my reputation. Do you think I'd go anywhere with my mum sitting behind me dressed up as princess on the back of a dragon? On the other hand, it's easier to buy a ticket to fly back home than to hunt a dragon and tame it. So, mature, mum, mature." 

Frantz Ferentz, 2013

THE MASTER'S WORD AND BEYOND

The master, with his long, white beard and his frameless spectacles, gave the manuscript back to his apprentice writer. A smile turned up in his face while saying:

"You've improved your writing amazingly, congratulations".

"Did I make you drool with the poem, master?", the apprentice dared to ask to the master.

"Well, actually this poem of you was outstanding", recognised the master. "I was fascinated, but don't express it in such a vulgar way, will you? Never say again I've drooled with a poem of yours."

The apprentice didn't say anything else. She just picked the manuscript up and turned round holding the poem with her left hand, some centimetres away from her body, because the manuscript was actually full of the master's drool, and it was not metaphoric at all, but perfectly fresh... and so vulgar.

Frantz Ferentz, 2013