Tell us a story — fiction or non-fiction — with a twist we can’t see coming.
Last night, our church enjoyed a talent night. People sang, played instruments, recited poetry, did funny skits, told stories. It was lots of fun. The final piece was a skit called I Got it in the Army.
The setup was four rows of folding chairs, two in each row. There was a chair for the bus driver, and several passengers filed onto the bus. After the last man sat down, there was still a vacant seat. At the last minute, a man with a terrible tick in his neck and head got aboard and sat in the vacant seat.
The man beside him watched for a few seconds, and then introduced himself.
“Hi. My name is Dave. I don’t like to intrude, but are you in pain? Is there anything I can do to help you?”
“Oh, hi. My name is Jeff. No, there’s nothing you can do. There’s nothing anyone can do. I got this in the Army.”
“Well, I’m really sorry.”
“Thanks. Hey, this is my stop. Nice meeting you.”
Jeff got off the bus, and another man got on. This man had a terrible limp, obviously was in pain, and could hardly walk. He sat down in the seat that Jeff had just vacated. Dave watched him for a time, and then introduced himself, again asking if there was anything he could do.
“Hi, Dave.My name is Jeff. Thanks for asking, but there’s nothing you can do. There’s nothing anyone can do. I got this in the Army.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“Thanks, Dave. Well, here’s my stop.”
Jeff left the bus, and Dave settled in with his newspaper. A third man entered the bus, making his way to the vacant seat next to Dave. He had his arm lifted to shoulder height, and kept throwing his hand out with his pointer finger extended.
Dave waited. Paused. Said, “Excuse me, but is your name by any chance, Jeff?”
“Why yes, it is! How did you know?”
“Lucky guess. And tell me, that problem with your hand, you got it in the Army, right?”
“No, I got it from my nose, and I can’t shake it off!”