Pugit There’s Always Next Year (Part 1)

October 31, 2018 ·

Pugit theres always next year
Spread the love

Flash Fiction: Part 1

Pug Fiction Story: “Pugit There’s Always Next Year”


Read Part 1 of this funny pug fiction story

Is it just me or are lazy people are everywhere? I really hate lazy people, not as much as mime artists, mind you, but still a good amount.

I would even go as far as to say that laziness is so rampant that we don’t even notice it -in fact, we applaud it.

Take XFactor for example. Singing has to be one of the laziest past-times ever – yet like I said, we applaud it.

You see, singing is a natural talent: a gift one would say. A bit like walking in a straight line. Alright you can work at it and improve it, but if you’re truly great at it then it’s just going to happen, isn’t it? Yet, when someone who’s naturally brilliant at singing opens their mouth on XFactor, then we — for some reason — all go wild.

I often think about rocking up next year and auditioning with a typewriter. Now that would be a great example of hard work. Partly for reasons regarding an unreliable ballet dancing pug -which I will explain later- but also to prove a point.

When I do, I will spend twenty tense-filled seconds warming my fingers with some well-choreographed finger dancing, as the crowd look on with bated breath, then I’ll launch straight into this frenzied three-minute typing session, like a wild pianist, rocking my head back and forth as the crowd begin to holler.

Finally, the crescendo will arrive and I’ll rip the finished sheet of paper from the typewriter and wave it as high as I possibly can in the air as the audience fall silent for a few moments, just long enough for their brains to come to terms with all the hard work and dedication that has just unfolded before their eyes.

At first, I’ll think oh shit, I should have used a laptop before the crowd jump to their feet, screaming wildly, and then I’ll point straight at a representative from Penguin Random House, who’s sitting in for Simon, and be like ‘where do I sign?’.

Either that or I could try auditioning with that unreliable circus pug again. I tried out last year with Pugit but we didn’t even manage to get past the enormous queue in the parking lot. Pugit has this tendency to throw up whenever he gets excited, and -to be fair- we were about to show off our pug/clown ballet skills, which we’d been working on all year, meaning there was a lot to get excited about.

Simon was going to wet himself -or so we thought.

Anyway, no sooner had we joined the back of this huge line of about five thousand people than Pugit had started throwing up. I knew though if I just left him to it that he’d eat it back up and save me the job -which was a bonus as far as I was concerned.

5 hours later and me and Pugit had only moved about five spaces forward, when I suddenly realized that everyone was gone and there was only me dressed in my clown outfit, with this ridiculously undersized tutu around me, stood in this giant parking lot, with a load of tumbleweeds flying past, holding onto the lead attached to Pugit, who I suddenly realized was dressed in this ridiculously over-sized tutu, who was continuously vomiting and eating it back up.

Anyway, rather than actually admit defeat to anyone at the circus, we decided to trudge back and tell everyone that there was another ballet dancing pug/clown double act who’d rocked up before us, meaning they couldn’t let two of the same acts in. What were the chances, eh?

Somehow they all believed us too, until Pugit walked off to get his dinner and was like ‘fuck it, there’s always next year’, dead nonchalantly, which must have hit a raw nerve with me because, without thinking, I suddenly screamed back ‘WHAT, SO WE CAN STAND IN A PARKING LOT FOR FIVE HOURS WHILE YOU HURL CHUNKS AND EAT IT BACK UP?’. So that was the end of Clownio and Pugiet -which was a bit disappointing really.

Yeah, so lazy people, hey, don’t get me started. Oh yeah, I’m blogging, I should continue.

Okay, so another thing that irks me is 21st Century poets. Could they get any lazier? Especially now we have the Internet and all those websites dedicated to providing people with words that rhyme with other words -for FREE! Maybe years ago, before we had websites, poetry was a valued talent because you had to really sit down and think about what rhymes with what, but now all you need to do is enter the word “bus” and out comes a million words that rhyme with it. They’re basically handing it to everyone on a plate.

Destroy them now, that’s what I say because they’re allowing lazy people to get up and give us poetry disguised as hard work and now it’s getting even harder to spot a lazy person. Talking about lazy rhyming, that’s the reason Pugit and me got arrested last Tuesday and spent a night in jail. Which blew me away, to be honest, because I didn’t even know it was possible to get arrested for bad poetry. Turns out it is. And who am I to argue with six British swat teams and Scotland Yards finest?

So I was in juggling class one day when Mudflaps, the mime artist, chucked a rogue juggling club my way and Mr Clownaround shouted ‘watch your head’. I ducked and thankfully it missed me but, when I shot back up to a standing position, I spotted Mudflaps doing sad crying face at me, so I shouted over to him ‘you’re fucken dead’. The room suddenly plunged into silence as everyone came to the same mass conclusion as me -I’m a poet and I really didn’t know it. For some reason, Mudflaps ran away whilst myself and the rest of the circus folk were left aghast at my new-found talent.

From there on in there was nothing for it, poetry was my new calling and Shakespeare’s days were nothing short of numbered.


Want to read Part 2 of this pug fiction story?


Keep Up To Date With These Pug Fiction Stories

If you want to more funny pug fiction stories just like this one then why not join me on Pinterest? I have a board dedicated to flash fiction so that you can stay up to date with the latest postings. The Flash Fiction board includes more pug fiction from my life at the circus.


Spread the love