He escorted me to the door and placed his iron-tipped toe to my rump...

October 18, 2018 12:14 PM

Friday flash fiction: What Happened to Auguste Clarot? A blast of sci-fi comedic nonsense reminiscent of Donald Bartleme. "When I was summoned posthaste to the topsy turvy office of Emile Becque, savage editor of L'Expresse, I knew in my bones that an assignment of extraordinary dimensions awaited me. Becque glared at me as I entered, his green-tinted eyeshade slanted forward like an enormous bill. We sat there, neither of us saying a word, for Becque is a strong believer in mental telepathy. After several moments I had gathered nothing but waves of hatred for a padded expense account and then, all at once, I knew. It was l'affaire Clarot. I leaped to my feet crying out, I will not let you down, Emile, and stumbled (almost blinded by tears) out of his office."
posted by storybored (3 comments total)

The diction is spot-on.
posted by GuyZero at 1:50 PM on October 18, 2018

Hilarious. I imagined all the characters being portrayed by Peter Lorre. Except for Becque. He was Herbert Lom.
posted by adamrice at 2:01 PM on October 18, 2018 [1 favorite]

As soon as I started reading it, I knew I had read it before. Great to see it again after all these years.
posted by ALeaflikeStructure at 7:41 PM on October 18, 2018