Monday morning writing joke: “Four writers, two”

Four writers get in a car. It’s pouring rain. The car won’t start.

Horror writer scribbles: “Brad and Elaine were trapped. It was the worst night of their lives. The wind was howling and the monster was, too.”

Romance writer scribbles: “Brad had always hoped for a chance alone with Elaine. And now in the rain, in a broken car, he had that moment.”

Comedy writer scribbles: “Brad had always hoped for a chance alone with Elaine. And now in the rain, in a car whose engine wouldn’t turn over, he had that moment – until, unlike the engine, his indigestion turned over on him.”

Contemporary fiction writer scribbles: “Brad had always had trouble with two things in life: women and cars. Now he was trapped by a heavy rain in a broken car with a woman he barely knew, who was soaking wet and crying and blubbering about her life being ruined. Brad could not find the words to console her, but searching around for a rag for her to use to dry her eyes, he found a hammer, and considered using it on either the car or the woman. Was it a sign? Was it supposed to use it or try to figure out why in life when he was handed lemons, he wasn’t even able to make lemonade.”