I was feeling clever one day. I’d been thinking a lot about fanfiction–how some of it is really good and some of it is horrifically bad. Have you ever stumbled upon one of the bad ones online? You’re reading, and everything is going along smoothly–until one thing happens, then another thing, and then it’s pretty much erotica. Yeah, that’s when it gets bad.
I wanted to put a new meaning on “dirty fanfiction.” So I wrote about dirt. I guess it’s not really a fanfiction, because it’s not of anything. But…here it is.
Mister Dirtman woke up to the feeling of being stepped upon, over and over and over again. Serves me right, he thought. All I am is dirt. And by dirt, Mister Dirtman literally meant it–dirt.
All the dirt people lived in clumps. Light dirt, dark dirt, dusty dirt, wet dirt–they all lived among each other in perfect harmony. The clump colonies on the Dirtbuster Elementary School field were especially close-knit, and were used to being broken up and abused.
“Mister Dirtman!” squealed Dirtya, a small bit of dirt. “More children are coming! The children are coming!” Sure enough, a pack of first graders was headed straight for the clumps. Mister Dirtman sighed, on the verge of tears.
“We’re going to have to be ripped away from each other again. Goodbye, clump members.” The dirt particles held each other close for the last time. As expected, they were yet again spread apart, torn from the ones they loved. Mister Dirtman’s fate was the worst. He was stuck up a little boy’s nose.
I can now say I wrote a dirty story and not feel uncomfortable about it.