It’s Friday Flash Fiction time again and this weeks starter sentence was given by Pipe Tobacco/The Frumpy Professor.

His starter sentence was…..He saw the orange Necco wafer on the counter top and started to cry. SO….here goes with my meagre effort..


He saw the orange Necco wafer on the counter top and started to cry.


“What the fuck are they? Are you totally stupid, boy? Why would I want those poncy, little fucking biscuits.”

His dad had always said that to him. He always sent him to the shop, knowing that he would bring back the same thing: almost as if he enjoyed the fact that he could beat up on him when he brought the wrong thing back.

“You always do the same thing,” SMACK.

“You can’t get a simple thing right,” PUNCH.

“You stupid, little retard,” KICK.


The tears ran down his flushed cheeks, the snot running from his nose like two miniature candle sticks. Thoughts flooded his mind. His mother’s face smiling at him, telling him how beautiful he was to her. Then her face changed. Her bruised eyes almost shut, her beautiful smile broken and swollen. Her love of life totally removed by the fists of her husband: his father.

Thomas sat there staring at the wafer, his vision clearing as he blinked his eyes free of tears. His thoughts were now filled with visions of the last beating.


“Not again, you stupid little fuck.”

A hint of a cruel smirk hovered on his lips.

“I’m going to have to beat it into you again!”

His father pushed himself out his chair, alcohol disrupting his balance. Thomas stood there with the packet of wafers in his outstretched hand. He’d never understood what he had done wrong.

“Necco wafers, boy!”

That was what Thomas had brought back. Necco Wafers. That was what his father had asked for and that was what he had brought back each and every time.

“Necco wafers, I asked for, chocolate Necco wafers!”

“N…n…n…no, d…d…d…ad. Y..y..you n..n..n.ev…e..er…s..s..said ch..ch..ch..oc..”

His father cut his stammering short with a drunken punch to the side of his head. Thomas dropped the wafers as he fell to the floor.

“N..n..n..n..n..no d..d..d..ad!” his father jibed. “You stuttering retard! You’ve always been an embarrassment to me.”

He kicked Thomas, just as the boy was trying to get up, but as he did he lost his footing. His feet flew into the air and he landed hard on his back, the tiled floor knocking the air out of his lungs. His head smacked on the floor with a sickening sound.

Thomas crawled away from the mumbling body of his father. He got to his feet near the back door, his eyes locking on the wrought iron coal shovel. A voice sounded in his head

“Thomas, no!”

Thomas picked up the shovel, heavy in his hand. He turned round, his father still mumbling on the floor. There was a smear of blood on the floor where the drunken man had moved his head.

“Thomas, no!”

The boy walked back towards his father and looked down at him.

“What d’you think you’re doing boy?” the man slurred.

Thomas lifted the shovel above his head…


He stared at the orange wafer on the worktop and wiped a sleeve across his face, a slimy trail sticking to his sleeve looking like it had been left by a mutant snail. The shovel fell from his left hand and made a clang as it bounced off the floor and came to rest next to his father’s dead body.

“N..n..nec..c..c..co w..w..waf..er..er..ers.”

The End.

No excuses this week (Although I do still have my in-laws here. They are staying until 6th Jan so my wife and I can go out for my birthday on 5th. Yes….a cheap shot for birthday wishes!!!)

The usual applies, leave a comment if you want to………if not, may a thousand flies infest your arse and your arms be too short to scratch it.



Filed under crime, david barber, david barber's fiction world, friday flash fiction, killer

18 responses to “FFF #15………THOMAS, NO!

  1. Good one, David, and a great job of bringing us into the characters' heads. My only problem is how to sum this up into a sentence for the post.

  2. He shoulda used the dull edge of the shovel to hack off his father's head THEN put the shovel in his father's own hand so it would look like suicide. The perfect crime. 😉

  3. Cormac, what about: David st..st..stutters one up for us. Thanks.Anton, LOL! Thanks mate.

  4. …leave a comment if you want to………if not, may a thousand flies infest your arse and your arms be too short to scratch it.David I have my own in-law issues. ;P While they don't infest bodily orifices they are staying in my spare bedroom for a couple of more days.This story was great cause it reminded me of some childhood memories, that while not as extreme as Thomas', never the less are burned in my mind.

  5. Nice one David and many happy returns. Hope the in-laws are nice and thank heavens I don't have to scratch my arse!Regards, Lewis

  6. This is a good one – well done with the pacing and dialogue of the dad. And he is right, chocolate Neccos are far better 😉 Happy Birthday!

  7. Happy Birthday Darling!!! I hope that you are having a wonderfully lovely day! 😀 I'd give you my traditional hug with a titty press but your wife might be watching so….. I loved the story. Could have done without the snot descriptions but hey. It all can't go my way all the time , right? :P(loved what Anton said about making it look like suicide. Too funny).I'm wondering why the little shit just didn't buy the right god damn cookies for his poor Father? What a trouble maker! ;P((Hugs))Laura

  8. Now that's exactly the kind of tale I love to read for ringing in the new year!

  9. hey! I posted a comment here, too! Where did it go?Happy birthday! And thanks for killing an abuser of with a shovel for me. I love happy endings!

  10. I waited to comment until I just couldn't stand the flies anymore. ;)Nice job. As Nicole said, the pacing and dialog made this story work wonderfully.Happy bithday BTW.

  11. The family that slays together… Good work, Dave.

  12. Good stuff, Dave.Dint know it was your birthday. Still a year behind me though n you'll never catch me up!All the best.

  13. Beach, Lewis, Nicole, Sunshine, Randal, Uber, MRMacrum, Paul & Col,Thanks for a great start to the year. Comments mean a lot and I sincerely appreciate you reading my work and taking time to leave one.Regards all, David.

  14. Has it only been 3 days since you posted this??It seems longer.I think I need some jokes or something to tie me over until you feel the spirit (or is it Cormac) move you….Sigh….(hugs)Laura

  15. I enjoyed that, a raw and honest scene. Sorry for being tardy, missed it in the blog feed.

  16. Sunshine, will be posting something over the weekend.Lee, I'm late for everthing so I can accept a little 'tardiness'. Cheers feller!

  17. Poor Thomas can't do anything right. Sharp and twisted. My dad used to yell at me for buying Big Hunk – until I learned how to shoot his guns;)

  18. at the end of the story the mother says to her other son ,what do you want with your coffee,"I dont want fucking wafers for a start".I love your stuff mate even although you are a twisted sicko!!and how did you know my arms are too short to scratch my arse.

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