Cerita Pendek Comedy & Novel Independence Face Slapping

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.

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.”

My ex-colleague, Brenda Wilson, finds out from an unknown source that I have taken in an adopted son. Because of that, she insists on matchmaking my son with her niece. "My niece has graduated from a proper college, you know! You don't have to prepare any fancy wedding gifts… Just 800 thousand dollars will do! On top of that, you can put her name on the deed of that fancy deluxe apartment in the city center. "From the way I see it, there's no need to choose the perfect date anymore. They should get their marriage registered tomorrow and do their best to give birth to a cute baby boy!" My adopted son has a volatile temper, so there's no way he'll go on a blind date with some random woman. I refuse Brenda's offer on the spot with a cold expression. Feeling furious and embarrassed, Brenda yells at me for being a stingy old lady. Then, she storms out of my place angrily. Three months later, Brenda shows up with her pregnant niece outside my residential area. There, they start a livestream and start crying their woes to the Internet. "Everyone, Emily Parker's adopted son tricked my poor niece, Ashley Collins, into sleeping with him! Yet now, he refuses to claim the unborn baby as his! "Oh, Ashley keeps crying every day! Can Emily even afford to take responsibility for my darling Ashley if she and her unborn baby end up dying because of that bastard? "If I gain 100 thousand likes by the end of today, I'll definitely commit suicide right on that Emily hag's doorstep!" As I look at the comments that demand justice in Brenda's livestream, I almost laugh out loud. My adopted son is actually a male monkey which has retired from the local zoo. On top of that, he's already neutered. So, what on earth is Ashley pregnant with? A magical baby monkey?

Everyone said Finley Floyd was a total family man. His dad had been dead for twenty years, and he still found him a wife. Then he started calling me—someone two years younger than him—"Mommy." Yeah. My hand slipped. I accidentally assigned the affection points to the wrong role. And somehow, Finley really believed I was his mother. When I told him—again—that I wasn't his mom, he snapped. He yanked me into his arms and buried his face against me. "You are Mommy!"

My name is Mabel Lloyd, and I make a barely decent living repairing household appliances. Two weeks ago, on a night when the rain came down heavily, I found a soaking-wet stranger huddled outside my apartment building. He was ridiculously handsome, an incredible cook and had only one glaring flaw — he was painfully shy. Whenever anyone asked his name, he would blush so hard his ears turned bright red, then stand there in complete silence, unable to get a single word out. I could not bring myself to leave him out in the rain, so I rented him the spare storage room in my apartment. Everything was fine. Until today. I heard knocking at my door and, when I went over to check who it was, the building manager was standing there with three men in black suits. The one in front flashed a badge, his expression unreadable. "Routine inspection. Bureau of Supernatural Affairs. "We have reason to believe an unregistered fox shifter may be hiding on these premises." Before I could even process what he had said, a loud clang rang out from the kitchen as a frying pan hit the floor. The very next second, my painfully shy tenant cautiously peeked around the kitchen door. A pair of fluffy white fox ears twitched nervously on top of his head and, when he spoke, his voice shook so badly it sounded like a washing machine caught in the spin cycle. "Mabel... don't open the door. They're here to drag me home for an arranged marriage."

I've been back at the Levine residence for four months. The whole time I have been back, I'm like an invisible person whose existence is barely acknowledged. One day, I wake up and suddenly start seeing everyone's health bars above everyone's heads. The first thing I see when I open my eyes is a frog's face. I jump in fright and slap it across the face. Then, I hear my younger brother, Jacob Levine, roar furiously, "Ruthie, what the hell is wrong with you? I came to tell you breakfast is ready. Why did you hit me?" I stare blankly at the frog. The frog is glaring at me furiously. The health bar above its head has dropped by a chunk, and it looks like it's about to leap up and hit me. I rub my eyes. When I open them again, it's still the same frog face. Its mouth opens and closes as it curses at me in my brother's voice. I stare at him for three seconds before saying, "Uh… There was a mosquito on your face." The frog's face turns even greener with rage as it rages, "You kill a mosquito by giving people a slap to their faces?" I don't answer. Over his shoulder, I see Lorraine Neal standing in the doorway. She has a hideous, demonic face and protruding fangs. The health bar above her head is even shorter. My "kind and adorable" adopted sister, Thalia Levine, is peeking out from behind Lorraine. Live snakes are coiling around her neck. They're sticking their tongues out at me and hissing. I close my eyes, take a deep breath, and open them again. Everything is still there. I sit on the bed, clutching the blanket, with only one thought running through my mind. I'm screwed… I think I've gone insane.

On my first day at the villa, the production team hands me a mission card. I read it. "Welcome to 'Where's the Straight Guy?', a reality show where 12 male contestants will be living together for one month. Only one of them is straight, while the others are gay. Every week, two people will be voted out. If the hidden straight guy makes it to the end, he'll win ten million dollars." I'm at a loss for words for a few seconds after I finish reading. Then, I look up at the director. "Your team does know what the words 'male contestant' mean, right?" The director looks me over—my short hair, black hoodie, chest hidden under a sports bra, and my five-foot-nine height—then checks the application form. He rattles off, "Alex Callahan, male. A 26-year-old freelancer." I'm rendered speechless again. Lovely. I see the problem now.