DASH TALES

Original micro-stories inspired by license plates and written in 15 minutes or less

“Yoooooo check out my new plates. Now everyone’s gonna know who it is when we roll up. DEM. BOYZZZZ.”

“That says ‘Dreamboys.”

“You trippin’. How you figure? If I wanted ‘Dreamboys’ then I would have put DRMBOYS. Though now that you mention it that could have been good for ‘Drum Boyz,’ when we make that dub step song.”

“No. That definitely says ‘Dreamboys.’ The D before the 3 negates the ‘TH’ sound and accentuates the ‘EE’ of the 3. Add the M at the end and you’ve got ‘Dreamboys.’ So I guess we’re a boy band now. Honestly, I could be okay with that.”

“What? No. Son. Don’t play like this. It’s ‘DemBoyz.’ Like, who’s the illest MC’s at West Springfield? DemBoyz. Who’s rhymes are straight fire? DemBoyz. Who’s whip got their name right on the plates so you know they’ve arrived and that shit’s bout to get real?”

“Dreamboys. You’re selling me on it, honestly.”

“Wha….”

“Listen, you’ve always been way more into rap than me anyway. I’ve got much more traditional pop sensibilities. But it can still work. Every great boy band had the one street-smart tough guy, right? You can be our AJ. Or our JC. Or our Donnie! It’ll be great!”

“But….”

“Plus, what was the whole point of us starting this group anyway? To get girls right? Do you think we stand a better chance of scoring if we’re wannabe rappers, or if we’re smooth ladies men?”

“We already….”

“I really, really like this idea. I’m glad you did this. It’ll be like our own tour bus, but you know, a Sorrento. But still, it’s gonna be great. I bet girls will be writing ‘Dreamboys’ on their notebooks by Homecoming!”

“I really think you’re reading it wrong.”

“Think whatever you want, but do it on your own time. We’ve got harmonies to nail!”

Encounter on the Orange Line — m4w

It was game day. The Bears had just beaten my Skins 21–17.

I was heartbroken.

Until I saw you.

Brushed in a blue and orange glow, you appeared to be alone, but were surrounded by a makeshift family of fellow displaced Chicagoans.

I watched you sway, front to back as you held onto the hand rail, gripping it curiously with your large novelty Bear paw.

Your other hand expertly worked the touchscreen on your phone as you tried to reach whoever was meant to pick you up once our train reached its final destination.

You glanced up and caught my eye. I was in the feathered headdress and snout.

You smiled at me and for a moment I’d forgotten about RGIII’s dropped passes. The missed tackles and the blocked field goal and the overturned touchdown and the 4th quarter fumble all faded from my mind.

For that second our train was empty, save for the two of us.

Just me and my ursine angel.

Our train stopped and we parted through separate doors. I fought the crowd to catch up with you, but couldn’t push fast enough.

You glided onto the escalator, but not before nodding in my direction one last time as I wheeled my chair into the access lift.

I hope I see you again on another game day.

Despite our adversarial allegiances, I think we’d make a great team.

How it Happened

A little known fact is that in the years immediately following the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ, many Christians were unsure of how to pray to their recently appointed and departed messiah. It wasn’t until the year 5 A.D. that prayer, as we’ve come to know it today, came into existence.

“We just weren’t really sure who to talk to at first,” revealed a farmer who asked to remain anonymous for fear of retribution from a higher power over his once unsteady faith and paranoia that the government would want to question him about his apparently, totally functioning time machine. “It was like, here’s this guy. He was just here a few years ago and everything was great. There were fish sandwiches for everyone and the wine flowed like water. Non-stop party. Then poof, just like that everyone’s all ‘Noooo. Boooooo Jesus. He’s THE WORST.’ And I’m like, wait a second, he was our guy, right, like last week? Anyway, prayer wasn’t much of an issue while he was around because we could just go ask him a question, like ‘Hey Jesus, my crops won’t grow and I can’t feed my family. What am I gonna do?’ And he’d just be like ‘Aw no worries, man. I got this.’ Boom. Prayer answered. Then he was gone. Dead. So we prayed to his spirit. Some of it worked, but you know, the results were spotty. But that only lasted, what, like three days? And everyone’s all ‘Oh Jesus is back. Let’s go have him fix our stuff.’ But then just as quickly, the guy was gone. It was really confusing, you know? We didn’t know if he was coming back again and if we should just wait it out. He was pretty new to Heaven, so would he even hear us? Then the rumors started. Someone saw him by a lake. So we went to the lake with our questions. No dice. Some guy saw him in a dream. So we had to hang out with Levon for like a week, which sucked. There were just a bunch of questions and the one guy who usually had all the answers was off chilling on a cloud with his dad. Finally after about 5 years, we just decided, ‘He’s gotta have his machine or whatever set up by now.’ So we just started praying to the heavens and that’s basically how it happened.”

And that’s how it happened.