Michael Blackson Stand-up Comedy Novels & Stories

How can I start narrating the few past minutes of embarrassment I suffered? “You do know Michael Blackwood right? The CEO of Blackwood Conglomerate.” She continued, she barely paused for breath. “His company is regarded as the godfather of all the top companies in this city! Thanks to his retired grandfather, the company has the highest net worth! Basically, he’s one of the richest young CEOs out there” I shook my head, trying to appear nonchalant. “ Nope, never heard of me.” WHAT! This is THE Michael Blackwood! If all she said was true, I’m definitely screwed! I remembered how rude I was when he tried to help, what kind of jerk was I?.

Christian and Michael glared at each other but slowly backed down, breathing heavily as they slumped back into their seats. “You’re both adults,” Mr. Blackwood voiced, looking between them with thinly veiled disgust. “Yet you can’t even sit through a dinner without trying to tear each other down.” He shook his head slowly, the disappointment clear on his face. “Maybe that’s my fault, maybe I failed somewhere along the way. But mark my words—” he paused, his voice dropping coldly, “—this will be the last time either of you act like animals under my roof.”

"What can I say? I’m persuasive." "Good," I muttered. "I don’t have time for his bullshit today." The second the words left my mouth, I heard it. That smug, infuriating laugh. "Speaking of bullshit," Michael’s voice rang out from behind me. "I was wondering why my offer got pulled at the last second. Looks like your little conniving ass got it once again.” I turned slowly, schooling my expression into one of sheer boredom as I faced him. Michael stood there with his usual arrogance, his arms crossed over his chest, that cocky smirk on his face like he already thought he had the upper hand.

Then their expressions underwent an instant transformation, with Noah's turning the most vile shade of smug imaginable while Michael's face twisted into a vision of barely contained rage. "What the fuck are you doing there?" Michael growled lowly, his voice low and dangerous. "I don't know where you got the impression that I have to answer to you, Mr Black," Noah replied as he stepped outside to pull the door mostly closed behind him. A dark smirk spread across his face as he gestured back to the house with a slight tilt of his head. "But as you can see, I just finished spending the night at my fiancee's and I would very much like to go back to sleeping now."

"He said they were working for one Black Bone." "Black Bone?" Belinda muttered. "Who is he?" "A sick psychopath who thinks he can scare us into our mother's bosoms," Michael flattened. "Why haven't we heard anything about him?" Pedro mirrored Belinda's concern, completely invested in the discussion. "That's why I called you guys; to smoke him out and uncover his hideout, in case he has more than one, which I think is most likely." Michael tossed the last slice of the apple into his mouth.

At the very top, behind the heavy doors of the CEO’s office, sat a man whose presence alone controlled more than the building itself. He had blond hair and glassy blue eyes. Sitting behind his desk, he was reviewing some documents when his secretary, Halter, entered and said, “I received an answer from ‘Black Lotus’.” Michael, without raising his head, answered, “And what did he say?” Halter hesitated but eventually answered by reading from his work tablet, “Nice try. I don’t perform shows. Find someone else.” Michael placed the papers down and walked toward the vast window. “Tell me, is it necessary for us to bring in ‘Black Lotus’?”

It was a little after 9pm when the music lowered, and the older gentleman took to the stage. “Good evening, Written Ink. I would like to thank you all for taking the time to travel out here tonight. My name is Michael Blackwood. I am here on behalf of the owner of Written Ink to thank you all for your hard work and continued support. I would also like to formally introduce you to the owner himself.” A silence fell over the room. That was the moment everyone had been speculating about. Rumors were about to be squashed and confirmed. Everyone stood, silently awaiting the announcement and movement.

The hotel has kept it cold in a champagne bucket, and I shake my head at the excess. “You’re ridiculous, you know that?” Michael is sitting against the wall, knees bent, sleeves rolled up to show off thick forearms. His hair is tousled and his tie is undone and he looks as delicious as this meal. His eyes are smiling at me, even as his mouth smirks. “You like being ridiculous with me.” “I do. Heaven help me, but I do.” I pop another bite of sherbet into my mouth and my lids flutter closed. “So what dangerous activities are we going to do tomorrow?”

My gaze was locked on him. Jonathan laughed, that easy, polished laugh that didn’t reach his eyes. “Lucas Blackwood. I was wondering when you’d come over. What’s the matter—business in Africa too boring for you, so you decided to come back and stir things up at home?” His attempt at banter tasted like ash. I tilted my head and let my smile show just enough teeth to make it clear I wasn’t here for conversation. “Africa must’ve been fascinating. So many opportunities. So many… distractions. Hard to keep track of what really matters when you’re halfway across the world, isn’t it?”

“Please, what? What? Please make this shit better? That’s what I’m trying to do. Don’t any of you want to get out of here? We got legs so we should use them. We take something hard and we bash out that fucking window and take our chances.” Michael leaped forward—he couldn’t hold himself back. “Just stop it for God’s sake! Just stop, all of you!” Face flushed red. “He speaks!” Jack laughed. “Well fuck me Freddy, I better drop everything and—” He lost the momentum of his words. “Oh, just fuck off, kid.” Michael realized it felt good to speak, to have his opinion heard. A minor victory. His elation faded when Jack turned his back to him. Michael stood alone in the aisle, an exposed figure on a