hastwothumbs

"Strangely Crappy Short Story Week" just will not die, despite a shortage of ideas and a surplus of lazy. Number six:

Theres no rest for the wicked here, thought the burning hotel.

As vagabonds and street pimps rushed to escape the flames, the surrounding buildings grew jealous of the attention being given to the hotel. Almost in unison, they caught fire, as well.

Thatll show you, hotel, they sniffed.

Soon the firefighters arrived and began dousing the hotel in water. The hotel no longer wanted to be like the other buildings, so the flames went out without much of a fight. The other buildings, though, wanted more attention so they kept burning to keep the firefighters focused on them. The more the firefighters tried to douse the flames, the more the buildings burned.

By morning, the hotel was the only building left on the block. It had not escaped uninjured, though. Its blood ran down the streets in the form of registry pages. Some of those pages, not completely destroyed, landed at the feet of a local wino.

Bah, the king of alcohol spat. Seven pages of text and not one fit to clean a janitors ass.