Comedy · Short Stories

The Mustached Tyrant (Part One)

Here’s the first part of a short story that I’m working on. It’s about an evil man, known as Mr. Mustache, who brings hell upon his workers! This beginning piece is about how nasty and perverse this human is. After reading it, you’re gonna think that he’s a creature, not a man! Let’s begin…

Mr. Mustache wakes up this morning with a smug grin on his face. He knows that it’s almost time for work. That it’s almost time to torture the poor souls of the workers that he’s over. Mustache grabs his favorite pair of khakis and his favorite green dress shirt. He enters into the bathroom, which smells like a sewer. The smell doesn’t phase him, as this is his own stench.

Mustache looks at his shower and thinks about bathing. The shower curtain used to be white, but now it has become a dirty, dingy brown thanks to the mildew buildup.

“Should I shower?” Mustache says.

“No! I will not give them the luxury!”

Mustache begins to put on his dress shirt, while staring evilly into the mirror. Mustache, of course, has a mustache that needs combing and is as gray as lint. He is completely bald. His bald head is the only thing in his life that glimmers. After he buttons his shirt–which is too little  for his big gut–he puts on his small pants, which is now covering his checkered briefs that cover the saddest penis in the universe. Is it sad because it’s small? No, it’s sad because it hasn’t seen any action ever. EVER. But Mustache doesn’t care! Humiliating the lives of others are more important.

After putting on his wardrobe, Mustache gets a whiff of his breath.

“Last night’s tuna with sardines,” says Mustache.

Mustache looks at his toothbrush. The bristles are old and are sticking out wildly.

“Those pointy bristles hurt,” he said. “They will surely cause my gums to bleed!”

Mustache wags his finger at his toothbrush as if it were a dog. 

“No! No! No pain for me today!”

Mustache laughs menacingly.

“These cretins will have to smell my awful breath and gasp for air!”


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