Bad Writing Propmts

The account @BorkerBook on Twitter will occasionally post bad writing prompts. One such example challenged followers to create a story with the following four words and phrases; anatomically correct snow people, cleaning, James Brown's private bathroom, and Subway Sandwich artist. Here is the short story I created:


After the Snow Fell


I sipped my piping hot latte as I stared out the window at my nephews anatomically correct snow people. What a little bastard. I walked to a different window to admire the snowfall, sans snow genitals. The backyard was a glittering expanse of white, and the trees looked like frosted chocolate candies. Maybe being home for a while wouldn't be all bad. 


When I finished my latte, I remembered I had promised my sister I would do some cleaning. In exchange, she was going to wrap the Christmas presents I had brought with me, a task I loathed. 


I put my mug in the sink, then headed to the bathroom with some rags and cleaning products. I figured I'd start with the gross tasks, then make my way to the less awful chores, like vacuuming. As I stepped over the threshold, I was relieved that the guest room I was staying in had its own bathroom, since this one was disgusting. Besides the dust and musty smell, velour jumpsuits littered the floor and a pile of black wigs was next to the tub. "This looks like James Brown's private bathroom," I mused to no one. I know my sister worked in the theater downtown, but what the hell?


When the bathroom was somewhat presentable, I heard a door slam, the squeak of snow boots on a linoleum floor, and my nephew,


"Auntie Regina! Auntie! I'm starving!"


Crap. I may have loved- well, liked- my sister, but her little spawn was a different story. I just didn't like kids, relatives or otherwise. I washed my hands and walked into the kitchen, where Dylan was jumping up and down next to the fridge. 


"I'll make you some food Dylan, what do you want?"


"Woo-hoo! I want peanut butter and banana on raisin bread!"


I gave him a look.


"Please."


I nodded, then got to work. After a few minutes, I had made a sandwich in the shape of an anatomically incorrect snowman, and added a few banana slices, cut into snowflake shapes for decoration. I set the plate in front of my nephew.


"Wow, you're like a Subway Sandwich artist!" He exclaimed. 


I had to laugh,


"You know, you too can go to art school, get $75,000 in debt, and maybe someday you'll make a sandwich as nice as this."


"Cool! Can I have some juice?"


I shook my head and opened the refrigerator door.

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