Chica Go
Love, Betrayal, Advertising
Chad Newcomb, a Chicago ad executive with a quirky imagination, tries to get himself un-clung from Maria, a one night stand who won’t go away. He’s engaged to The Boss’ daughter Regina, so he can’t allow indiscretions to end his career. Too bad Chad has tons more fun with Maria than Regina. His rival Pete longs to catch Chad in the act, so Pete will be sure to secure the upcoming promotion.
Written by the author of "How to Write Comedy Jokes", as well as several other humorous books, such as "Heaven-Bent HUMOR: The DEAN Adventures", "Monster Laughs", "Seasons Without Reason", "Exit Strategies", "Channel Surfing", and more!
Comedy, Humor, Romance, Contemporary Romance, Love, Betrayal, Advertising, Chicago, Walter Mitty, Fatal Attraction, Parody, Spoof, Funny, Fun, Laughter, Suspense, Fiction, Fantasy, PG-13. Funny and fun for both genders. Enjoy!
A Fun Feature!
This story's fun and funny for lots of reasons, but part of what makes it so much fun are Chad's imaginary "daydream" sequences! Whether it's a mock commercial, movie spoof, or some far-out fantasy related to what he's feeling at the time.
For example, when Chad gets called to The Boss' office, he's hesitant to say anything, because The Boss intently reviews a report. So Brad imagines being with his friend Jimmy in front of a rhinoceros that will charge and gorge them if disturbed. They remain quiet and still. But then a wasp buzzes.
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An Excerpt
Except for the cacophony of city sounds in the streets below, the bedroom remains relatively silent, like a Mack Sennett Keystone Kops’ movie, minus the music and silly slapstick sounds.
Pa-bump. Pa-bump! Pa-bump!! Chad worries his pounding heart will give himself away, in a manner semi-reminiscent of Edgar Allen Poe’s “The Tell-Tale Heart”.
Without a convenient way to silence his beating heart, Chad sighs and closes his eyes.
––––
As if teleported to another world, minus the cool futuristic sounds and other corny special effects, Chad finds himself wearing a bright orange convict’s jumpsuit, while sneaking along the dull gray wall of a high-security prison.
Sirens blare. Searchlights shine. Bloodhounds bark.
A prison guard calls out, “There he is! Open fire!”
As bullets blast around him, Chad gasps, quickly covering his crotch and muttering à la Gollum from The Lord of the Rings Trilogy: “My precious.”
––––
Opening his eyes, Chad returns to the bedroom from which he seeks so desperately to escape.
Along with the rest of the moping masses, Chad trudges inside the Baxter Office Building, a.k.a. BOB, an 86-story structure with a faux granite façade on North Michigan Avenue, where he works on the 27th floor.
Oddly though, the faux granite façade costs more than actual granite.
The Big Meeting!
In the conference room, Chad sits, dazed and frozen with fear, an upright version of comatose. So much for his fending off becoming a zombie until after five.
Back in the conference room, Chad opens his eyes as Pete pushes past him and scoffs, “That suit is so yesterday. And why is that, when Regina enjoyed Girls’ Night Out?”
Chad and Pete sneer at each other with such icy disdain, that, for just a moment, global warming reverses; and somewhere north of Quebec, a new glacier forms.
[Chad]: “She’s [Regina’s] coming by tonight! How am I gonna explain the mess?”
Jimmy pops up over the wall again. “Your crib’s a landfill with furniture. How do you usually explain it? Radioactive cockroaches?”
(from “Thus Ate Zarathustra”):
There’s nothing like the discovery of an unknown work
by a great thinker to set the intellectual community atwitter
and cause academics to dart about
like those things one sees
when looking at a drop of water under a microscope.
On a recent trip to Heidelberg
to procure some rare nineteenth-century duelling scars,
I happened upon just such a treasure.
Who would have thought that
“Friedrich Nietzsche’s Diet Book” existed?
A bookstore is one of the only pieces of evidence we have
that people are still thinking.
I sold more books than the Beatles
sold thumb tacks.
Where illiteracy comes from:
Kids don’t even read comic books anymore.
They just watch the cartoons and movies.
Friday, I was in a bookstore;
and I started talking to a French looking girl.
She was a bilingual illiterate
-- she couldn’t read in two different languages.
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