Michael Blackson Stand-up Comedy Novels & Stories

The Last Man Standing. Michael was sitting on the van looking at those zombies how they're in pain, and how they're craving for human flesh to devour. At that moment Michael felt like the world was slowly disappearing infront of him, or maybe it was just him who is fading away. The black hole in his head deep inside his soul slowy swallowing all his hopes and dreams. That was the worst moment.

He had probably brought Chiara over today to put on a show. However, Ivanka’s actions had made his show in vain. Everyone knew their relationship had fallen apart, and Barkworth Group became the laughingstock. Michael sensed Jonah’s gaze and looked at him. They were not sitting at the same table. Many people were between them, but that did nothing to stop them from shooting murderous gazes at each other. Jonah smiled and raised his glass. Although it was champagne, he could still drink a toast to him. Michael stopped looking at him. Instead, he got up and walked out.

He wore faded black jeans with a beige shirt. Blake side burns where already greying, though he wasn’t that much older than Michael, his eyes dark brown, with a neatly cut hair and neatly shaven face. He sat down on the stool beside Michael, patting him on the knee as he adjusted himself to seat comfortably. “Oh, it’s nothing.” Michael said, putting his phone away, as he gestured for the bar man to bring two drinks. “So, what do you have for me?” Blake asks, opening the cold bottle the barman just brought.

She mimicked him. "Don't laugh at me." Michael remarked as he started the car. "Don't mind me, I was just kidding." "I know." They talked about random things, laughing and smiling as Michael drove them to Black's convections. Soon they were there and they both came out of the car. "Omg! It's so filled!" Ashley exclaimed, surprised. "Yeah, I told you it's very popular," "And you also said expensive, since it's expensive shouldn't it be less filled up." She reasoned.

"We all agreed to give you the benefit of the doubt and accept that there are instances you would be late for the benefit of your company. You can be sure that we won't leave early because of your tardiness, but our choice might be impacted by your lack of professionalism. We are sure, Mr. Mezzaluna, that you did not intend to be late." Michael mocked the elderly man's remarks with his laughter. Except for his helper Alex, he could see the sense of dissatisfaction and shock in every single person's eyes. Alex was already noticing that he began to enjoy the encounter, and he would continue to do so. He was too pissed at how he and Elena ended, so he would put all his annoyance to the old men

I said to him. " Then we definitely need to talk to him. " Jack said and knocked on the door. We were in some shady part of town. The door opened and Michael showed up with a cigarette in his mouth. His eyes went wide when he saw us the door and before he could even utter a single word, his face was on my fists, Jack's fist went on his stomach, he leaned over only to be met with another one. We went inside and closed the door behind us. " Mr Black... What's happening?" He asked me as he groaned in pain. Jack pulled him up from the ground. I punched him again.

Their laughter is heard by the man in the hallway. In a semi dark room which is brightened from the hazy light of a disco ball, Michael is meeting Mr. Bullswood. They haven’t even begun talking when Mr. Bullswood’s body drops on the floor. “Damn it!” said Michael. He looked around him but couldn’t see anyone. It was just the two of them in the room. He checked his pulse and confirmed what he already knew. He is dead!

Why won’t he leave me alone and fucking find someone else? I’m tired. So damn tired. I don’t want him in my life anymore. He’s too much—too confusing, too consuming. One moment he makes me feel like I’m fire itself. The next, he tears me down until I’m ashes. I slammed the glass back on the table, sucking in a shaky breath. On stage, the MC’s voice rang out, firm and full of life. “Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome Mr. Blakewood!” My eyes shifted to the man stepping onto the stage, his suit the same from hours ago when we talked, his smile easy as he prepared to give his speech.

My cock wants to respond to this conversation and I'm trying hard not to let it show. "I would be happy to offer my services if it would help." I tell her, trying to make it sound like a joke. "I know you would, Mike." She says, squeezing my thigh. "Why aren't you black?" She asks exasperatedly. "I'll convert." I joke. "Are there classes or something I can take?"

Momo muttered, blood oozing from his mouth. I gazed at Billy and Kate, who slowly crawled out of the layers of blocks. Their eyes were all white, pleading for a way out of their calamity. “Everyone get behind me.” Pastor Timothy commanded. They scrambled, hoping to get themselves next to the high and mighty Pope Timothy. Kate got herself out of the block, her bones making crackling sounds as she lay on the floor. They stepped back, wondering how a child had managed to crawl all the way out despite the layers of concrete weighing them down.