Fortune Cookie Never Wrong

Weekly Writers week #5 prompt: "I'm just doing what the fortune cookie said. Who am I to stand in the way of fate?"

The flight and cab ride home had been excruciatingly boring, which is why, when I placed my keys on the table just inside the door to my apartment, I had to take a moment to fully allow the sights that greeted me to sink in.

I stood rooted in the foyer as a goat in battle armor sauntered by.  Atop this furry creature was a dwarf in neon body paint, drinking a Grape Nehi beneath a TMNT parasol.  This was the first thing to catch my attention since arriving home, but there was much more to view.

My roommate, Paul, stood in the living room, before the couch.  He was dressed as a teddy bear and clutched a large paddle in one hand, which he swung ominously overhead in preparation, evidently, of using it to strike a little old lady wearing a diaper and sucking a pacifier on the fanny.  Standing next to them was a lovely young lass dressed only in glossy black PVC, incongruously befitted with a nun's habit as well.

It was so bizarre that I was hesitant to disturb the scene, but I found my grasp of reality and cleared my throat, "Um, Paul?"

Clearly surprised, Paul looked over to me and smiled, "I'm just doing what the fortune cookie said.  Who am I to stand in the way of fate?"

"What fortune cookie?" I asked.

"This one," he handed me a tiny strip of paper, like one found within a fortune cookie.  I turned it over and read, ABSTRUSE FANTASIES ARE THE BEST KIND.

I looked at him and tried to ignore the teddy bear cosplay.  I asked him, "Paul, do you even know what 'Abstruse' means?"

He took a hard swig of beer and pushed his fist to the ceiling in defiance, "It means let your freak flag fly!"



"Not all."


"Not even a little bit."

"What does it mean, then?"

"It means 'Secret' or 'Hidden.'"


"So this whole thing," I gestured around our apartment, "is something that probably never should have seen the light of day."

"I see," he looked thoughtful for a moment before adding, "Kiki, let's go to Reuben's place tonight."

I watched the whole menagerie pile out the front door as I draped my coat from a chair and retrieved a beer from the fridge.  I shook my head and wondered which one of them was Kiki.

Paul is still my roommate to this day, but now I lock my bedroom door.

I don't want to find goat poop on my pillow.

The End

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