Condos, cops, and chastity belts
Condos, cops, and chastity belts
Flash Fiction Story Bag (Vol. 2)
Hey Friends,
Before we dive in today I’d like to wish a warm welcome to almost thirty new subscribers!
According to Substack’s analytics most of you lovely people found your way here after subscribing to Michael Estrin’s fantastic Situation Normal. Michael’s epic story about covering an adult entertainment convention was deservedly featured on Substack Reads and — in addition to sending oodles of new readers his way — generated some hilarious moral panic in the comments section. I encourage everyone to check out Michael’s piece here and the pearl clutching here.
A quick Field Research orientation: My satirical stories veer dark and depraved, but my objective is to make you laugh and think. This year I’ve already had a talk with my daughter about the perils of immortality, covered a replacement theory-themed spelling bee, eviscerated the Davos elite, and dunked on my local politicians. I have a blast writing these pieces and hope you enjoy them.
If Field Research ultimately isn’t your cup of tea, no worries. But I encourage you to stick around until at least Super Bowl Sunday because Michael, Dennard Dayle, and I are cooking up another epic collaboration (more details below).
Now, the main event.
Today’s post is Volume Two of the Flash Fiction Story Bag, an idea I dreamt up after readers justifiably pooh-poohed my planned AMA-style mailbag. Check out Volume One here.
The premise is simple: readers send me the most ridiculous and unhinged prompt they can think of and I attempt to write an even more ridiculous and unhinged flash fiction-style story.
Here we go.
Prompt: A house thief snags a car key and tries to abscond. Every time he attempts to unlock the vehicle, however, the knowing owner re-locks the vehicle from afar using the spare key. Nonplussed, the frustrated thief gives up.
Title: The Keystone Condo Owners
So I’m working late the other night filing briefs and watching the Bulls lose to the Pelicans when I get a call from this rando. He’s totally frantic and breathing heavy and before I can even get his name he starts rambling on and on and on about a surge in car thefts on his block.
So I’m like yeah, yeah it’s an election year and the politicians are humping the crime stats and let me just transfer you over to Judge Dredd’s office when he screams, “You don’t understand! It’s a conspiracy!”
So I say, “Oh yeah? Is it Gates or Soros this time?” and he says “It’s my HOA! They’re trying to screw me!”
So now I’m thinking this guy’s totally off his rocker and I should just hang up but the former private dick in me can’t resist so I say, “Oh yeah? Why’s that?” and he goes on a tirade about how he’s trying to sell his condo and his neighbors want him to take a haircut.
So now I know I should hang up but something about his tone intrigues me so I say, “What, to suppress property taxes or something?” and he says, “No. Because they hate me!”
So I say, “Okay, sir, I’m hanging up now,” and he says, “They just caught the guy!” and confused I say, “What guy?” and he says, “The guy they hired to steal the cars!”
So now I’m like Jesus-tap-dancing-Christ let’s start over from the beginning. So this guy — name’s Charlie — tells me the whole story, including how Eli popped his inflatable Grinch in 2019 and Debbie didn’t water his petunias while he was on vacation in 2021 and Susie threatened to sue him for leaving his snow boots in the hallway one time in 2022 and how they’ve all been out to get him ever since he asked to see the condo’s cash flow statement in 2018. Now they’re exacting their ultimate revenge.
So I say that all sounds pretty trivial and unlikely to spark a building-wide conspiracy against him and he says, “Have you ever lived in a condo?! Everyone goes insane!”
So I take his contact info and say I’ll get back to him. I call my detective buddy Mike and ask if CPD’s picked up any car thieves lately and Mike says, “We just nabbed the Pilferer of Paper Street,” and I say, “Who?” and Mike says, “The guy responsible for boosting ten Teslas, twelve BMWs, and four Range Rovers on Paper Street last month.”
So I slap myself in the face to make sure I’m not in a Twilight Zone episode and say, “Do you think he’s part of some organized crime operation? Or…something?”
And Mike says, “More like an organized vendetta,” and I say, “What?” and Mike says the perp admitted to stealing the cars but said he was hired by some broad named Debbie to stick it to some douchebag named Charlie.
So now I’ve got a bajillion questions but the first one I think to ask is, “How’d you catch the guy?” and Mike says VIPER SQUAD was staked out on Paper Street and this hulking dude tried to unlock a parked car but couldn’t and kept trying over and over and over again and when it finally didn’t work he flipped his shit and slammed the key fob on the ground and started walking away.
“So they knew it wasn’t his car,” I say and Mike says, “Those VIPER boys had to tase that big bastard thirty-two times — pepper spray him seventeen more — but when it was all said and done the Pilferer of Paper Street was brought to justice.”
So I thank Mike and call Charlie back and say, “Believe it or not, your story checks out,” and Charlie says, “I told you I wasn’t crazy!”
So I pause for a moment then say, “Well, you do live in a condo.”
Submitted by: Greg, a kind and generous reader.
Amran’s notes: Greg’s original prompt was based upon his real-life thwarting of an inept car thief with his spare key. That was fun enough, but after he read about Chicago’s hefty vehicle theft stats in last week’s Alderperson post he asked if there might be a way to incorporate that information as well.
Combining his updated suggestion with readers’ insatiable appetite for dysfunctional condo associations produced the above insanity.
Finally, while writing this I found myself thinking often about the J.G. Ballard novel High-Rise and the 2015 film based upon it. I recommend both but in this rare instance I prefer the movie. It’s weird, loopy, visually arresting, and features a superb cast of delectable Brits.
Prompt: A “thief” attempts to “unlock” something “forbidden” but finds himself unexpectedly repelled.
Title: Chastity belted
Paisley lies on her side waiting anxiously and impatiently. Her long, slender, naked legs extend away from me, beckoning to be touched and caressed and stroked. Focus.
I rotate and twist and jiggle my two unwound paper clips to no avail. Hacking the door to Vault 88 required less hand-eye coordination.
“Hurry up!” she whispers. “I’m cold!”
She cocoons herself in a blanket from the waist up and frowns, which simultaneously kills and enhances the mood. Old people say the anticipation is the best part, but that’s probably because they’re old and don’t bone anymore. Get back to work.
I remove both clips and consider a new approach. Goose bumps form on Paisley’s smooth, flawless, milky-white skin and she admonishes me again for taking too long.
I assure her I’m going as fast as humanly possible and shine my iPhone 17 Pro Max’s flashlight onto the adamantium- and vibranium-based bane of my existence.
The words “SMART-KEY ENABLED ANTI-GROOMING PURITY PRESERVER: POWERED BY KWIKSET” stare back at me, taunting. These POSs exploded in popularity after some pastor in Texas said “godless savages” were trying to “breed us into oblivion.”
I plunge one of the clips as deeply as possible into the locking mechanism and hear a “click” for the first time. My heart races and my junk tingles. Almost there.
In goes the second and I toggle it side to side and suddenly it catches and OMG I’m so close to the promised land I’m about to burst. I take a deep breath and think about Shohei Ohtani to prevent a premature eruption but that actually makes it worse and I don’t want to think about why that is right now so I think about Mike Pence instead and everything goes soft. Breathe.
The slightest of twists and voilà. The gates to Valhalla thrust wide open!
“Did you get it?!”
Blood pumping I flip open the protective casing and depress the first lever and then the second and I’m nanoseconds from the third when I hear another “click” and the device relocks. TF?
Click. Unlocked.
Click. Locked.
Click. Unlocked.
Click. Locked.
Click. Unlocked.
Click. Locked.
“W T F are you doing?!” Paisley says.
“I’m not doing anything!”
Click. Unlocked.
Click. Locked.
Paisley grimaces. “Go upstairs and check on my dad.”
“Me?!”
“Just do it!”
Whipped with no reward to show for it I creep up the wooden stairs like a terrified ninja, the erratic clicking continuing unabated. I kneel on the top step and press my ear to the door. The TV’s blaring and Paisley’s dad is muttering. He says, “What the hell?” then “Fucking Korean piece of—” then stops and says, “Kwikset? That’s not the…Paisley!”
His heavy footsteps thunder toward the door and my heart sinks and I wish I’d played Fallout 5 instead.
Submitted by: The generous and gregarious Greg (sort of).
Amran’s notes: When Greg first submitted his inept car thief prompt he acknowledged it was fun and ridiculous but not necessarily debauched. Of course, that’s why I’m here.
I circled back and asked him if he’d be okay if I tweaked his prompt to incorporate my latest idea for an "anti-grooming smart chastity belt.” Fortunately for me — and unfortunately for all of you — he was, and here we are.
Craft-wise I’ve been enjoying the first-person POV and recently I’ve shifted to writing more in present rather than past tense. For this piece I flirted with a third-person limited or even omniscient POV thinking I could volley back and forth between the horny teens and the bumbling dad. Ultimately I figured limiting the POV to one character would increase tension.
Two final notes: To prevent today’s post from becoming way too long I pocketed killer prompts from readers Jon, my neighbor, and Meg Oolders, who writes the bold and inventive Stock Fiction.
Jon’s prompt could merit a full story and there’s solid odds Meg’s idea will become a new entry in my speculative satire series “The Thirtieth.”
Lastly, while these flash fiction prompts allow me to flex different writing muscles and improve my skills, constructive feedback is appreciated.
Have any burning thoughts on the above pieces?
To the submitters, the spoils
Thanks to Greg, Jon, and Meg for submitting their very creative prompts!
As a show of gratitude I’ve gifted each of them free one-month paid subscriptions to Field Research. They’ll now have full archive access and should receive at least one exclusive paid-only benefit later this month.
Enjoy!
Unmedicated Alderpersons follow-up
I’m positively delighted by the feedback from last week’s Alderperson piece, which recounts my first foray into local Chicago politics. Check it out here:
A number of readers suggested I use my “authentic” voice more frequently in my writing, which I’m not averse to and agree could be fun.
For the most part expect me to continue expressing myself through satire and sketch-like comedy, but I will endeavor to put the “real me” on your screens more often.
Next up
Getcha popcorn ready for Field Research’s first ever Super Bowl Week Extravaganza!
On Friday, February 10 at 9:30 a.m. CT all subscribers will receive an NFL-themed Field Research piece.
Then, two days later, on Super Bowl Sunday, Dennard Dayle, Michael Estrin, and I will once again form like Voltron and deliver a piece of scorched-earth satire certain to modify your genetic code.
Last I checked Vegas set the cancellation money line at -3,000.
See you then!
Amran
Per a great suggestion from writer/reader Wil Dalton, "Chastity belted" has been updated to include the line: "Hacking the door to Vault 88 required less hand-eye coordination."
That provides a callback for the final line, which I felt was great but still missing something. Thanks, Wil!
Woohoo! I appreciate you to keeping it to just two stories, I’m still only halfway through your first flash-grab bag! Paper Street Pilferer! Ha. The paragraph about all the reasons his fellow condo owners hate him? Great! Constructive feedback? Why all phone talk? Two people interacting in the same space always better than one talking on the phone (unless story demands that technological distance, which this didn’t seem to. See also: https://etgarkeret.substack.com/p/annoying-phone-calls