Rambo Flash Fiction

Yesterday we had a wonderful hike up the local mountain. The weather was cool with a warm breeze, and the summit was packed with hikers, wedding parties, dogs, rangers, and birdwatchers.

To celebrate the absolute goodness of my day, I stayed up all night smoking pot and watching Rambo. Why was I watching Rambo? Dunno, maybe because in my marijuana-induced haze, young Silvester Stallone is cute. The energy he exhibits as a survivalist is captivating. He lives with an intense single-minded focus:  be ready to kill at any instant — deer, people, puppies… basically anything that crosses his path.

In honor of Rambo, here’s my Daily Prompt contribution:

George stepped gingerly through the thicket, looking around, his AK-47 cocked and ready to shoot. It didn’t escape him that his hands were shaking so badly he wouldn’t in a million years be able to hit the side of a barn.

It turned out ok, though, because it took only a second for Rambo’s wire cinch to flip George’s head off. It rolled on the ground, looked up at Rambo with its mouth open in an O shape, tears streaming, and then rolled over one last time and came to rest face-down with its chin on the ground.

== 100 words ==

Written in response to today’s WordPress Daily Prompt Mouth Drop : In exactly 100 words creatively describe one moment when your mouth dropped open, chin hit the ground, and tears rolled down your face (figuratively or not). If you prefer to develop this into a longer post, that’s fine too! Thanks for the prompt suggestion, T. Dwella!

Rambo Flash Fiction

6 thoughts on “Rambo Flash Fiction

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