Hello my name is Chris Winkly, and i might be crazy.

I woke up one morning (with a hang over)and my girlfriend was gone.She left a note explaining that I'm irresponsible,immature,and she needed someone who could take care of a family and make more money. I don't make much money because I'm a freelance author.

When i was done reading the note, I walked into the kitchen to get a cold beer, but when I opened the refrigerator I saw two little fairies.

"Hello my name is Star, and this is Flower."

I rubbed my eyes again and again and the fairies were still there, so I grabbed a ber, popped the top and chugged it as fast as I could and the fairies were still there!

"Why are you two here? What did I do?"

"You can't write very well and we're here to change that. We are not fairies, we're snakles. Our job is to spray writing dust on your type writer. Witing dust will make your writing better."


Well there much I could do but grab another beer, so I did. I was hoping to get drunk by 10:30. This is prety much my daily routine, I write better when I am completely drunk. I started to make a peanut butter and grape sandwich and the "snakles" flew over and landed on my shoulder.

"Hey why aren't you eating bacon? Most people eat bacon in the morning. I like bacon."(flower)

"Flower, shut up. He's a vegetarian, you know that. Now where is your type writer?"(star)

"It's in my office, follow me."(me)

"What about the bacon? you could at least try it. Bacon is good. I like bacon."(flower)

"Flower, if you dont shut up, I'm going to smack you so hard your momma will feel it!!"(star)

We walked into the office and Star pulled out these purple spray bottles that looked like they were full of ashes. Star handed one of the funny purple thingies to Flower and sprayed down my type writer. After just a few minutes, the ashes disappeared. I think my type writer absorbed it.

Two hours later (at 10:30), when I was completely drunk, I got on the ype writer and started to write. Normally I would have trouble coming up with ideas, but today the words flowed out of me like water out of a spring.The writing was great too , and thats a change. To call my writing mediocre would be a complement on any other day.

I was in the middle of writing this story when some on walked through the door of my office.

"Time for another spray down."(star)

"Can we have bacon now?"(flower)

"Shut it Flower!"

The purple thingies came back out and the snakles sprayed my type writer again. In just a few minutes the ash was absorbed into my type writer.

"What's that stuff you spray on my type writer?"

"Ashes. It's ashes of great books written by great authors. We burn the books and the talent used to write them is left behind in the ashes. When we spray it on your type writer, absorbs the ashes, it absorbs the talent too, and as soon as your fingers touch the keys, that talent flows into you. The talent doesn't last long when you write stories that are dark though, because it takes more talent to write sad and dark stories that fluffy pink bunnies in a field of flower."

By the end of the day I was done with my story and I could take it to a publisher and submit it to be in the next issue of " short stories monthly." If my story makes it and I get some money. I can probually get Denise to take me back.

The publisher of " short stories monthly" is a good friend of mine , Al Green. When Al read my story, his jaw hit the floor! He said that I had never written anything half as good as this and paid me triple what he usually does.


When i got home, I called Denise and explained that I'm making more money and I'm willing to take care of a family and when that didn't work, I begged for her to come back.

I woke up the next morning and I couldn't remember the day before. All I know was that I woke up and Denise was beside me in my bed. Slowly the day before came back to me in bits and pieces. Calling Denise and begging for her to come back telling her about my tripled salary and the many beers that followed.........................

All of a sudden, Flower and Star flew in as I was remembering yesterday and interrupted my train of thought. Bye bye goes happy time.

"We need you to write now, or we go away and bye bye goes your talent and Flower don't even say anything about bacon! Chris write, NOW!"(star)


DO I REALLY WANT TALENT BAD ENOUGH TO BECOME A SLAVE TO IT? THE SAD SORRY ANSWER IS YES. I WANT IT THAT BAD. I WANT TO BE WITH DENISE THAT BAD AND I WANT TO BE A FAMOUS AUTHOR. SO I GRABBED A BEER AND SAT DOWN AT THE TYPE WRITER. I WAS AMAZED WHEN I WROTE AN INCREDIBLE STORY AND FINISHED IT BY LUNCH TIME. THIS TIME I DID IT WITHOUR DRINKING ANYTHING!


But I felt guilty some how. Like I was dirty for using other author's talent to my advantage. But I htink I was also addicated to the feeling I got when I realized that I wasn't ever going to write another mediocre story in my life.

Well I got rich, and I married Denise and we had two sons and three daughtes.

Even though it seems like my story has a happy ending and that's what everyone who knows me thinks, I'm still a slave to the talent spraying snakles. I can't ever sleep in and I have to write a new story every day. I tried to write a story about the snakles a year ago, but Star lit th paper and reused the talent.