“Hey, one of my stories has been picked up by a book company, they're gonna publish it, and they've sent me a cheque for two thousand smackarooneys, how does it feel to have a published author for a brother then?”
“Hey bro, that's great, which story is it?”
I flicked the keys and brought the story up onto the screen.
“This one,” I said, swivelling the laptop around so he could read it, “It's called 'Bound homeward'.”
I watched in nervous anticipation as he began to read the fruits of my imagination, in my mind I could already hear the gushing praise that was soon to come.
He turned towards me, a vicious snarl spreading a cross his face....
“YOUR STORY?... This ain't YOUR story, this is MY story, you stole it from my computer didn't you?”
“No I didn't, your stories are full of crap, who the hell would publish any of YOUR drivel?”
He pressed a few keys, then turned his own laptop so I could view the screen.
“Here, read this then you thieving asshole.”
I skim-read through several pages...
“Well, there ARE certain similarities......”
“Similarities? Similarities?... The only similarity is the title, mine's called 'Homeward bound' apart from THAT little similarity the story is a word for word replica, right down to the last capital letter, comma, and full stop. I'm gonna split you in two, you... you... PLAGIARIST you!”
“Look, this isn't helping either one of us, tell you what, I'll split the money with you eh? A grand apiece, eh? How does that sound?”
“I should get BOTH grands... It's MY story.”
“It is NOT your story, I wrote it MYSELF.....”
“Oh yeah? And you expect me to believe that? You really expect me to believe that we both wrote exactly the same story as each other?”
“Well, given what we are, is it really so hard for you to believe that it could happen? Anyway, this is getting us nowhere, do you want half of the money or not?”
He dithered for a few moments, then his face softened as he made his decision.
“Okay, we usually end up sharing everything anyway, sorry I got mad at you.”
“And I'm sorry that you think I stole your story. Pals again?”
He went into the kitchen and returned carrying two bottles of beer, handing one to me as he sat back down.
“A toast... Here's to an endless list of best-sellers, and the rewards they will bring bro.” We both said in unison, clinking the bottles together.
My identical twin and I opened our beers, took a long, slow slug, sighed, then leaned back into our chairs, all in perfect synchronisation.
I pondered the fact at how impossibly identical we were in every possible way.
©2011 Stephen. J. Green.