Comedy Short Stories & Bias Face Slapping Novels

I was the son of the wealthiest man in Capital City, but I had never enjoyed the flattery and fake smiles that came with that title. All I had ever wanted was a normal life. Now that I was pushing twenty-eight and still single, my mom finally lost her patience. She gave me an ultimatum: go on a blind date or she’d disown me. On my way to the date, I passed by a luxury boutique and spotted a watch that immediately caught my eye. I was just about to pay for it when, out of nowhere, a man barged in from behind and slapped a black card down on the counter. “I’ll take this watch. Wrap it up for me,” he said. I stayed calm and said politely, “Sir, I saw this watch first.” However, he just scoffed and snapped back, full of arrogance, “A broke nobody like you can look but not afford it. Get lost. I’m the assistant to Ms. Jackson, the CEO of Jackson Group. In this city, if I want something, no one will fight me for it.” Ms. Jackson? Isn’t that the exact woman I was supposed to be meeting for the blind date? Without another word, I pulled out my phone and dialed her number. “Selena,” I said calmly, “do you know your assistant is out here throwing your name around to bully people?”

Five years into my quest to conquer the male lead, Patrick Suede forgot my birthday once again. Instead, the villainess texted me, “So what if it’s your birthday? He came crawling to me at the snap of my fingers. For once, I didn’t take the System’s suggestion to break down. I replied, “Thank you. You’re the only one who remembered my birthday today.” The response back was a big question mark. My phone kept going off with notifications. “Seriously. Were you meant to send that to someone else? “Are you for real? That’s kind of sad. “What do you want for your birthday? “Forget it. I’m coming over. Since you can’t eat mangoes, I’ll get you a strawberry cake. “Honestly, you’re a handful.” … When my doorbell rang, I grinned at the System. “The mission is to romance the main character of this world. You never said it had to be a guy.”

Everyone who has ever met me says no man could possibly resist me. It is because I am a natural seductress. My hourglass figure is too sensual to even hide. But my fiancé, Enzo Vitale, the Don of the Vitale family, is the exception. He dislikes my full lips and my curving hips. Not only that, he thinks my ample chest and narrow waist lack dignity and elegance. He says everything about me screams promiscuity, and that I am like a flirtatious prostitute, making me unfit to be his wife. So, he brings in the strictest etiquette mentore from Cicaro to teach me proper manners. I study diligently for an entire year, but I still fail to become the perfect wife he wants. When he once again complains that I am too seductive and improper, even going so far as to threaten to break off our engagement, I grow tired of it all. I say, "Then let's cancel our engagement."

My grandfather is hit by a car, and his skull is shattered. I take the driver to court. That's when I find out my husband, Stuart Creed, who was supposedly abroad on a business trip, is suddenly at the hospital. He looks at me coldly and snaps, "Do you have any idea how important Maddy’s valedictorian announcement is? Her future can't be ruined by some car accident! Drop the case right now, or I'll cut off all your credit cards and have your grandfather kicked out of the VIP ward!" He slams the door and storms out. Before that, he snarls, "Come home when you agree. Until then, forget about calling yourself Mrs. Creed!" While I'm out desperately trying to gather money for my grandfather's surgery, a team of lawyers contacts me. Turns out the patent my grandfather once authorized to Creed Group has expired. And now, I'm the new legal owner.

I've worked with my wife, Naomi Prescott, for seven long years. Yet, she refuses to make my identity public in the company. Naomi claims that she's worried that the entire company might think of me as a man who relies on his partner. Believing her excuse, I stick to myself and keep a low profile all this time. But on the day my project team secures a ten-million-dollar business deal, Naomi is quick to make me give the credit to her childhood friend, Matthias Crowell. When faced with my questions, Naomi retorts in a matter-of-fact tone, "Matt is new to the company. Can't a veteran employee like you take care of him at work?" I'm furious, to say the least. "What if I say no?" Naomi throws a resignation letter at my face. "Well then, you can pack up and get lost, you pathetic loser!" I pack my belongings calmly and leave the company afterward. Three days later, Naomi's company is on the brink of bankruptcy. She sobs loudly as she begs me to return with her. I produce a business card and give it to her. "Sorry, but I prefer being the boss of my own company. It so happens that my company still needs a janitor. I suppose I can reserve that position for you, seeing as we used to be married and all."

I was born with almost no sense that I deserved anything. The day I was born, I didn't think I deserved to actually be born in the delivery room, so I held onto my mother's umbilical cord for three days. It wasn't until she slipped away to the bathroom that I finally let go in relief, and dropped straight into the toilet. When I got kidnapped, I didn't think I deserved a seat in the trafficker's six-seat van. So, I wrapped myself around his leg and refused to get in. Then a sanitation worker rolled by pushing a garbage cart, and my eyes lit right up. I jumped on without a second thought. After that, the trafficker sold me eight separate times. Every single time, I handed the money right back. "No, you don't need to pay for me. Free is fine. I'd feel bad taking your money." Eventually, the trafficker gave up trying to profit off me and just dragged me along. He cursed under his breath while we lived together in extreme poverty. Then the day my real parents showed up with the police, he practically wept with gratitude as they cuffed him. Before they put him in the car, he patted my parents on the shoulder, looking like a man who'd finally set down a heavy load. "She's all yours now. Whatever's wrong with this kid's head, you'd better get her some real help." My parents just stared at him, completely lost. They didn't understand what he meant until that night, when the fake daughter came crying to them. She sobbed and said that I'd stormed home and immediately tried to steal her room and her bed. My brother marched my parents straight to my room to settle the score. They tore the place apart and finally found me curled up asleep, perfectly content, in the dog cage in the corner. The room went dead silent. My brother stood there, completely stunned. The fake daughter's face went blank too. It took my parents a long moment to find their voices again. "Bella, you said Luna stole your room and your bed?"

The wedding's in half an hour, and my fiancé's assistant, this woman, just hands me this paper. Rule number one: No physical contact with him outside, not unless he explicitly permits it. Rule number two: Intimacy is to occur only when he initiates it. She is obligated to satisfy his desires at least once a month. Rule number three: He can demand his due at any time, any place, and she cannot refuse. ... After I finished reading this entire two-page contract, I had to fight to keep a smile on my face. Swallowing the fire in my gut, I called my fiancé. "Marcus, what the hell is this?" "What do you mean, 'If he fathers a child, she must raise it, no matter who the mother is'?"

Derek Lewis killed me six times for Claire White. Each time, I waited for him to change his mind, but every time, he drove the knife straight into my chest. “Sherry, Claire was born with a serious heart condition. You’re the only compatible donor who can save her. I swear—you’re the only woman I’ll ever marry.” But before the first week after my death had even passed, he married Claire. My former mansion became their new home, and my sports cars were used as their wedding cars. Even the Lewis family’s billion-dollar fortune became jointly owned between them. Standing in line to be reborn again, I finally realized that I didn’t want the scumbag anymore, but the Lewis family’s wealth had always included my share. So, I was reborn, choosing to become their child. On the day of the delivery, Derek publicly announced that Lewis Group would one day belong solely to this child. Inside the delivery room, I was born crying. Claire took one look at me, and her scream tore through the room. “Derek, why does our baby look like Sherry?”