“That won’t fly.”
“What won’t?” she asked.
“From the third line on,” he replied, reading over her shoulder as she typed. “A story full of obscenities won’t ever win a writing contest.”
Exasperated, she considered how to sanitize her micro-fiction entry, a gritty drama rife with blue language. Then inspiration struck, and she believed her ingenious editing would yield a surefire winner.
“All the profanity’s been bleeped out. What do you think now?”
“Makes it a [bleeped] up piece of [bleep], I'm sorry to say.”
“Oh, what the [bleep] do you know? You're a [bleeping] accountant!”
~ The [Bleeping] End ~
*
© 2013 by M.P. Witwer • All rights reserved
This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than
storiesspace.com with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.
<a href="https://www.storiesspace.com/stories/micro-fiction/all-bleeped-up.aspx">All [Bleeped] Up</a>