Twisters

T 5650

By Arjun Basu | Published: June 3, 2012

Someone says, This brand has lost its way, and someone else says, No it’s just in the toilet, and then everyone jetted off to Italy and ate.

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T 5649

By Arjun Basu | Published: June 3, 2012

I asked why I had become his enemy. He told me it was because I liked cake. He was into pie, he said. And I took the information like a man.

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T 5648

By Arjun Basu | Published: June 3, 2012

Jones stepped in it and Martin said, What’s the vig on that fug? They both laughed. Like men. Then Jones shot his partner. Shaddap, he said.

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T 5647

By Arjun Basu | Published: June 3, 2012

He lied to her and said, I’m a biochemist. She said, I’m a vegetarian, and he didn’t know what this meant because she had just lied as well.

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T 5646

By Arjun Basu | Published: June 3, 2012

Regret hovered in the air like a morning’s fog. Or smoke. From the barbecue. And the burnt chicken. Burnt because of inappropriate flirting.

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T 5645

By Arjun Basu | Published: June 3, 2012

He steps out of the café and lights a smoke. She follows him and says, You disappoint me. He picks the falafel out of his teeth. And coughs.

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T 5644

By Arjun Basu | Published: June 3, 2012

This isn’t fettuccine, he says and he crosses his hands and pouts, and she rolls her eyes. So I changed things, she says. And then he cries.

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T 5643

By Arjun Basu | Published: June 3, 2012

He thought the moment right and he leaned in for a kiss. She pulled back and said, I don’t love you like that. And he said, Statistics suck.

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T 5641

By Arjun Basu | Published: June 3, 2012

I stumbled upon a comfortable level of unhappiness. I went out and attempted to seduce a young lady. Her mother proved a satisfactory Plan B.

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T 5640

By Arjun Basu | Published: June 3, 2012

My father was a butcher. My mother was a vegetarian. I’m so tired of that excuse, my wife complains. Even though it’s the only excuse I have.

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