Post by HburgEagle44 on Jul 1, 2011 0:33:57 GMT -5
This is a one-shot my sister and I wrote. It is loosely, loosely based on a true story....comment! hahaha
Anna was checking her Facebook before going on a walk. She was laughing at some jokes that were posted and enjoyed just catching up with people. She was just getting to the bottom of her wall posts when she stopped. “Oh, no. Oh, no, oh, no.” She muttered this several times before yelling, “RYAN!”
Ryan came in from the kitchen, holding his ulster fry in one hand and Guinness in the other. “What?”
“Ryan, you remember the lady I told you about? The really stalkerish one?”
“Which one?”
“That doesn’t matter! She’s coming to The Moy. She says she’s going to be here between 11 am and 5 pm.”
He whipped out his phone and said, “Consider it taken care of.” He walked out and sent a mass text to all the residents of the village. “If anyone asks, you don’t know me. Ryan Kelly does not live here. He has never lived here, and he has no family members. Send.”
Next day
A woman of medium height with short blonde hair and Celtic Thunder t-shirt walked into the pub. “Hi, I’m Marsha!” she said, her bubbly personality coming through. “I’m looking for Ryan Kelly. Do you know where I can find him?”
The pub owner remembered the text he had gotten the night before. “Ryan Kelly? Who’s he?”
“The famous singing star? He said he’s from here.”
The pub owner called to the bar maid. “Hey, Shannon! Do you know of any Ryan Kelly who supposedly lives here?”
“Does he have dark hair?”
“Yes!” Marsha exclaimed.
“Does he have blue eyes?”
“Yes!” She was getting really excited.
“Is he of average height with a dimple in his cheek?”
“Yes, yes! So you know him?”
“Sounds like every Irishman who doesn’t have red hair. Sorry. No idea who this Ryan Kelly man is.”
Marsha sat, stumped for the moment. Her eyes lit up. “Is there another Moy?”
The pub owner blinked in surprise. “I’ve never heard of another Moy...and trust me, I get all kinds of stories in here.”
“Can I see your phone book?”
“This is the Moy. It’s too small for a phone book.”
“Well, this Moy, it sounds Swedish. And here I thought he was Irish this whole time. Where’s the nearest train station? I have to get to Switzerland!”
The bar maid raised her eyebrows. “I think you mean Sweden, miss.”
“Oh, is that what they’re calling it these days? These countries are always changing their names! Makes it so hard to learn geometry.”
The pub owner and the bar maid exchanged a look, trying not to laugh. “Well, I’m sure that if you take a train, you could be in Switzerland to get to the Moy to meet this unknown Ryan Kelly in no time.”
“Thanks! Irish people are so open and friendly!” Marsha bounced out of the pub.
The pub owner texted Ryan. “You’re safe. She’s off to Sweden. Or Switzerland. She can’t get her geometry straight ”
Ryan texted back. “I’m on my way, mate. This I’ve got to hear!”
Anna was checking her Facebook before going on a walk. She was laughing at some jokes that were posted and enjoyed just catching up with people. She was just getting to the bottom of her wall posts when she stopped. “Oh, no. Oh, no, oh, no.” She muttered this several times before yelling, “RYAN!”
Ryan came in from the kitchen, holding his ulster fry in one hand and Guinness in the other. “What?”
“Ryan, you remember the lady I told you about? The really stalkerish one?”
“Which one?”
“That doesn’t matter! She’s coming to The Moy. She says she’s going to be here between 11 am and 5 pm.”
He whipped out his phone and said, “Consider it taken care of.” He walked out and sent a mass text to all the residents of the village. “If anyone asks, you don’t know me. Ryan Kelly does not live here. He has never lived here, and he has no family members. Send.”
Next day
A woman of medium height with short blonde hair and Celtic Thunder t-shirt walked into the pub. “Hi, I’m Marsha!” she said, her bubbly personality coming through. “I’m looking for Ryan Kelly. Do you know where I can find him?”
The pub owner remembered the text he had gotten the night before. “Ryan Kelly? Who’s he?”
“The famous singing star? He said he’s from here.”
The pub owner called to the bar maid. “Hey, Shannon! Do you know of any Ryan Kelly who supposedly lives here?”
“Does he have dark hair?”
“Yes!” Marsha exclaimed.
“Does he have blue eyes?”
“Yes!” She was getting really excited.
“Is he of average height with a dimple in his cheek?”
“Yes, yes! So you know him?”
“Sounds like every Irishman who doesn’t have red hair. Sorry. No idea who this Ryan Kelly man is.”
Marsha sat, stumped for the moment. Her eyes lit up. “Is there another Moy?”
The pub owner blinked in surprise. “I’ve never heard of another Moy...and trust me, I get all kinds of stories in here.”
“Can I see your phone book?”
“This is the Moy. It’s too small for a phone book.”
“Well, this Moy, it sounds Swedish. And here I thought he was Irish this whole time. Where’s the nearest train station? I have to get to Switzerland!”
The bar maid raised her eyebrows. “I think you mean Sweden, miss.”
“Oh, is that what they’re calling it these days? These countries are always changing their names! Makes it so hard to learn geometry.”
The pub owner and the bar maid exchanged a look, trying not to laugh. “Well, I’m sure that if you take a train, you could be in Switzerland to get to the Moy to meet this unknown Ryan Kelly in no time.”
“Thanks! Irish people are so open and friendly!” Marsha bounced out of the pub.
The pub owner texted Ryan. “You’re safe. She’s off to Sweden. Or Switzerland. She can’t get her geometry straight ”
Ryan texted back. “I’m on my way, mate. This I’ve got to hear!”