Michael Blackson Stand-up Comedy Novels & Stories

At his position, I stood up, kneeing him on his groin and throwing him on the chair. "Have your seat first." I said, straightened his collar then turned to the others. He groaned in pain, his hands protectively covering the area. Sorry, hon, damage's already done. "The phone!" I demanded. The three stood up laughing. I really didn't find the situation funny. "You are outnumbered doll. Look around. What are you going to do?" Dark skin said. He was such a loud mouth. "I'm going to kick your arses." I said.

Was he not happy with the peperformance? “That was fine”, Mr Black spoke up, he pulled his two hands forward, resting them on the table, She took a deep breath. “But I wasn’t impressed”. His hands which covered in with black gloves fell on the table with a bang, startling Grace who shifted on her feet, The rest of the panel made no effort to speak , they speculated, not uttering a word.

“You passed.” Trixie drops her head into her hands. “I’m going to scream.” “Again?” Michael offers. “Because I gotta say, I really enjoyed the last few times.” “Shut up,” Sonia growls. Theo finally lets out a breath, running a hand through his hair. “So… moral of the story… black magic sucks, flowers are snobs, and I need a drink.” “I second that,” Elias mutters. I lean back in my chair, folding one leg over the other again. “Congratulations. You’re worthy.”

With a low groan, he slumped back into his seat. Micheal was handsome with features similar to Easton but in a more manly manner. He was five years older, after all. He also had green eyes and stood at six feet two. He oozed a powerful aura as he turned to face the crowd. His lips curled into a smile, but the smile was nothing friendly. He actually made people even more uncomfortable. “My name is Michael Black," he began, his voice steady and commanding. "And I’m here to set the record straight. Scarlet is no fraud. Everything you’ve heard tonight or any other time is nothing but baseless lies designed to tear her down."

“Eat your soup, Zander. It’s a classic vichyssoise. Chilled, like the state of your current portfolio.” The voice was like the scraping of a dry leaf against a gravestone. Michael Blackwood sat at the head of the long, obsidian-colored dining table, the candlelight glinting off his silver hair and the sharp, predatory curve of his smile. He looked invigorated, a man who found his youth in the wreckage of his children’s lives.

Black and getting to the bottom of what had happened to Sophia. Finally, he reached the large office at the end of the hall, the door slightly ajar. Inside, Mr. Black was standing near his desk, his back to the door, staring at the array of security screens that lined the walls. Mike cleared his throat, his presence filling the room before he even stepped inside. “Mike,” Mr. Black said, his voice low, acknowledging him without turning around. Mike stood in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest, his expression unreadable. “You can take off that mask of yours, Xender,” he said, his tone dripping with irritation. “I still don’t understand why you bother wearing it.”

Was he the one who he had told me about? "Dylan, not now." Mr Blackwood replied and it made sense. He had brought his friends around, who were the best people to announce such good news to except people he considered his very good friends. "A lot of you might have been wondering why you are here but I think it is spelled out clearly now." He said, "some of you can't relate because you have killed your wives and now are looking for someone who will help you out." He joked. The room erupted in laughter and I couldn't help but smile at his opening statement. He had been doing this business way longer before I was born so it was only natural that he would be better at it than I would.

she started. Michael’s jaw tightened, “Mr. Blackwood made some mistakes that I had to clean up. He did things that required my intervention. I wasn't a snitch. The police had found him out. Someone might have alerted them to some of his wrongdoings. That's the truth.” His answer was so convincing. Kate’s brows folded, her eyes rolled, and her fingers were shaking.

Blackwood was staying. Seven Kings. Michael and I hurried in; we had no desire to see his other side. “Good day, sir,” I greeted. He wasn’t in his usual tailored suit. Instead, he wore a simple black T-shirt that clung to his frame, paired with dark pants. Casual, but commanding. I hated to admit he looked good in anything. “Where’s Michael?” he asked, not looking at me. “He’s downstairs, sir.” His eyes swept over me from head to toe before finally landing on the folder in my hands.

He looked at Alexa doubtfully to express what was in his heart. "The wealth that I got was the result of my own efforts, I worked in a bar. Also working with the underground gang,” Michael whispered. “Underground gang? You mean that dreaded black dragon syndicate?” Alexa shouted. Michael covered Alexa's mouth with his hand he didn't want everyone to hear it, he hugged Alexa and whispered a sentence that made Alexa dumbfounded. "I'm the boss of the black dragon syndicate, which protects the little thugs in this town," Michael whispered.