All Screwed Up
It’s time for Adam Ickes’ Storybook Corner! Impressively, I’m not waiting until the counter says “Submissions close in 5 minutes” to submit my entry this month. Here’s the cool badge.
The aim is to write 300-500 words. I’ve gone a bit over đŚ . It’s also a bit of a nutty story as I was feeling in a whimsical mood.
To read the other stories, click on the blue froggy.
The two boys ambled up the street. Davey, at thirteen, was the older of the pair, so he got to carry the air rifle. Bobby, at twelve, could only watch jealously while his friend aimed it here and there, pretending to shoot invisible enemies.
âWhen we gonna shoot something, Davey?â he asked.
âWhen we see something worth shooting,â answered his friend. âHow about that stop sign?â
âThat thingâs never gonna make a dent in that,â muttered Bobby. He turned away to walk back down the street.
âYouâre probably right,â said Davey, taking aim at his friendâs retreating behind. âI bet I can bounce a few off your butt, though!â
Davey squeezed the trigger, eliciting a surprised yelp from Bobby, which soon changed to a groan of pain.
âYou shot me in the ass! You shot me in the ass!â
Davey stared, horrified, at the growing stain on his friendâs behind.
âI⌠I⌠I thought it would just bounce off!â he quavered.
âI canât believe you shot me in the ass!â moaned Bobby, bouncing around and holding his bum. âCall an ambulance!â
âLetâs not be hasty,â said Davey. âIâm sure itâs not serious.â Davey could see a nasty scolding in his future. He probably wouldnât be allowed out of his room until he went to university. He explained this to Bobby.
âYour room? YOUR ROOM! Iâm gonna tell, and youâre going to jail! Youâre gonna be somebodyâs bitch!â
As it happened a hiker had seen the whole incident, and seconds later a police van screeched to a stop, disgorging a host of rather scary-looking officers waving automatic weapons.
âArmed police! Drop the gun! On the ground, now!â
Davey dropped the gun and fell to the ground, shaking. Bobby continued to bounce around, holding his wound.
âHe shot me in the ass! He shot me in the ass!â
âCalm down, son,â said the officer in charge. âIt doesnât look too bad.â He looked up. âWait a second. Have you boys been shooting at the stop sign? Look at those dents!â
âNo sir, it wasnât us,â moaned Davey miserably.
âArmed police, shut up, stay on the ground!â came the reply.
âThis is very serious, lads. Those signs are expensive. They belong to The Council. Your parents pay for those signs. We pay for those signs. Taxes.â
Several of the officers, thinking of their wallets, nodded in agreement and gripped their guns more tightly.
âBut he shot me in the ass!â screamed Bobby.
âShut up about your ass, son!â yelled the officer in charge. âYour ass will heal! That sign will need to be replaced. Thatâll cost!â
They handcuffed Davey and bundled him into the back of the van, citing âone road sign, public property, destruction ofâ. The van roared off.
âBut what about my ass?â mumbled Bobby, tears trickling down his cheeks, blood trickling down his other cheeks.
All alone, and feeling pretty sorry for himself, he made his painful way home.
âOfficer-in-chargeâ was commended for his valour and is currently serving as head of the prestigious âStreet-Sign Crimeâ unit out of Scotland Yard.
Bobby developed an ass infection and had to have one ass cheek amputated. Heâs currently living in Droitwich with his old mum.
Davey was sent down for twenty to life. He became somebodyâs bitch.
Sharing My World Week 18
Here I am to Share My World once again, brought to us by Cee over at Cee’s Photography Blog. So without further ado, I’ll jump right in!
What object do you always have with you when travelling and why?
The quick and easy answer is “a credit card”. That way, if I’ve forgotten anything I can buy it. Not that I’m rolling in money and can just replace everything, but I can stretch to that forgotten toothbrush.
I’ll also make sure I have my Kindle, camera and so on – the usual things – but after a credit card the most important thing is my phone. My phone lets me read my Kindle library (in case I forgot my Kindle), I can work out where I am with the GPS, Google local services, check to see how much money I have left, take pictures and if all else fails, actually phone someone!
What subject would you like to study in depth, if given the time to do so?
That’s a tricky one. I’ve sometimes thought about psychology or sociology. Or maybe economics. That sounds really boring and it might have numbers in it but it might be nice to see what’s going on and how the entire world’s economies fell to bits.
I think I’d rather know a bit about everything than everything about one thing. That sounds like a good way to earn a living by winning pub quizzes.
Which would you prefer: Â a wild, turbulent life filled with joy, sorrow, passion, and adventureâintoxicating successes and stunning setbacks; or a contented bordering on happy, secure, predictable life surrounded by friends and family without such wide swings of fortune and mood?
It’s the quiet life for me! I like everything planned out and stable. No sudden surprises for me, thanks!
What are your favourite spices?
Tricky one this! I need to find something that is undeniably a spice.
Parsley, rosemary, thyme?
Herbs. No wiggle room here. Denied!
Pepper?
Apparently a condiment. Possibly also a spice. I’m not taking the chance. Denied!
Curry powder then. You can’t go wrong with curry powder.
This is a blend of spices, not a spice. Denied!
Garlic? I love garlic!
It’s a species of the onion genus, and onion is not a spice. I think that dried garlic powder is a spice, so I’ll take a chance. That’s one!
Chilli powder.
Ground dried chillies. Definitely a spice. Yay!
So after all that we have garlic powder and chilli powder.
See you next week when I will be sharing my world once again!
Baby Steps
It’s time for my Friday Fictioneers entry once again!
Friday Fictioneers involves writing a roughly 100 word story in response to a photo prompt, which this week has been provided by B. W. Beacham. It is hosted as always by the lovely and talented Rochelle.
You can read all the other contributions by clicking or tapping the little blue froggy (before you tap, ensure you have a touch screen, otherwise click đ ).
Copyright B. W. Beacham
Little Mikey reached past the detritus in the lake and fished out another trout. He watched it struggle for a while, then carefully taped its gills shut. He replaced it in the water and watched avidly until it stopped moving. Smiling, he placed it carefully next to his previous experiments.
âStill with the fish. At his age Iâd already decimated the neighbourhood pet population and was ready to start on the neighbours,â said Meg, sitting nearby with her husband.
âLet him progress at his own rate,â replied Clive. âWeâll find him a cat for his birthday. Baby steps, love. Baby steps.â
Weekly Photo Challenge: Spring
This week’s Daily Post photo challenge is all about Spring. Not the boingy kind, but the season.
I have some flowers coming up in my garden. It’s quite exciting – I only bought the house a couple of months ago so I didn’t plant them and I don’t know what’s going to appear next!
Here is a picture of bluebells, according to my parents. I admit that they are bell-shaped, though more purple than blue, I would say. They also reckon that the little white flowers are garlic. Possibly the previous owner was worried about vampires.
Obviously I have some weed-removal yet to do, but I had to check with my parents first as I tend to remove the flowers and leave the weeds, left to my own devices.
Bluebells and weeds and stuff
Close-up of the bluebells
I have no idea of what these things on the stalks on the right of the picture are.
Little white things on stalks
Sharing My World Week 17
It’s time to Share My World again! There will be a new set of questions tomorrow – this week is a bit confusing as tomorrow is the first of two May holidays in the UK and I was thinking it was Saturday again today.
But it’s not. It’s Sunday. I might wash the car and do some gardening. “Low maintenance garden” my ass. There may be no grass but there’s weeds.
The questions, which I shall attempt to answer, are provided every week by Cee.
What are some words that just make you smile?
“Dastardly”. That’s a negative word but it sounds funny. That always makes me smile.
“Asshat”. That makes me smile too. It’s not actually a word though, apparently đŚ
A dastardly character involved in some asshattery
(Image source and copyright information wikipedia)
When you lose electricity in a storm, do you light the candles or turn on the flashlight? How many of each do you own?
Even in the horrific storms this last winter I didn’t lose power. I was living in a town, so all telephone and electricity cables are underground. There was some lightning once or twice, but I guess it didn’t hit any electricity substations. Some homes in Cornwall did lose power, though.
However, if this should happen I have a couple of torches (=flashlights) around the place. I need to buy some candles (for nice mood lighting as well as emergencies) but I haven’t got around to it yet.
What is the longest book you ever read?
The type of book I read doesn’t tend to be particularly long. I’ve read David Eddings’ “Belgariad” and “Mallorean” may times, but that’s two sets of five books each, though all the same characters. “Lord of the Rings” is three books but that was quite long.
The book which seemed the longest was an exam text I had to read at school – “Sansibar oder der letzte Grund” by Alfred Andersch. It wasn’t really all that long but it was full of difficult words and I found it pretty boring. I preferred the other two books – they were plays, which meant dialogue, which meant more words I actually knew. There’s a big difference between speaking another language and reading a novel.
So you win a pet monkey at a fair, but this isn’t just any old monkey. It can do one trick for you whenever you want from getting a pop out of the fridge to washing your hair. What would be the trick?
Many of the posts I’ve read for this week would have the monkey doing housework. According to the covenant on my house I’m not allowed to keep chickens or pigs (there goes my dream of a chicken coop and pig farm combo in the back garden) but it doesn’t specifically mention monkeys.
Therefore I would open a monkey sanctuary so that all these hard-working housework monkeys can get one weekend off a month from their duties.
It would be run by Marcel because he looks like a sensible sort of monkey.
(Image source Friends Wiki)
See you again next week!
Melted
It’s time for Friday Fictioneers, hosted by Rochelle! My more-or-less 100 words this week have been inspired by a photo contributed by Renee Heath.
It’s a fantastic photo, full of demonic promise. However, I have resisted the temptation to ooze living wax down some poor sod’s throat and have had a shoddy stab at The Romance. I haven’t tried The Romance before and it feels a bit flat, possibly due to a lack of blood and other-wordly creatures. However, it’s good to push one’s boundaries every once in a while.
I’ll see if I can kill off twice as many characters next week to make up for it.
To read other stories for this week, click on the little blue froggy!
[Edit: I would like to thank Judah First and Sustainabilitea for helping me out in the second sentence of the “winter” passage – I just couldn’t find the right word!]
Copyright Renee Heath
As the wind whistled through the trees and shook tiles from the roofs he gave her his best line. She blew past him and was gone.
Snow lay thick on the ground when he invited her to share mulled wine. Her frosty mien belied the interest in her eyes.
When the first flowers appeared and the apple trees blossomed he enticed her to coffee. Hope grew within him.
In the warmth of a summer evening they shared a meal. He opened his heart to her and in the flickering light of the candles she melted.
Sharing My World Week 16
It’s Share Your World time again. That seems to have come around pretty quickly! I don’t know where the week has gone. Share Your World is hosted by Cee in which she poses questions about ourselves.
How many places have you lived? You can share the number of physical residences and/or the number of cities.
I was thinking that I’ve lived in loads of places, but on reading some other people’s answers, I really haven’t in comparison, and it was mostly moving around while at university, because that’s what students have to do!
- Carnon Downs, Cornwall, UK until age 5 (I don’t remember much about this place)
- Truro, Cornwall, UK until age 18
- Here begin the “University Years” – Guildford, Surrey, UK
- University accommodation (first year)
- Guildford town (second year)
- Stuttgart, Germany (third year – unleashed loose in the world!)
- University accommodation (final year)
- Guildford town (the PhD years)
- Welwyn Garden City, Hertfordshire, UK (post-doc year one)
- Liss, Hampshire, UK (post-doc year two) (end of the “University Years”)
- Cork, County Cork, Ireland (three years)
- Cobh, County Cork, Ireland (one year)
- Truro, Cornwall, UK (three years)
- Elsewhere in Truro, Cornwall, UK (two years)
- Redruth, Cornwall, UK (five and a half years)
- Grampound Road, Cornwall, UK (two months so far)
One of the places I lived in at university accommodation was floor three in Bourne House. Sometimes when the phone in the kitchen rang we would all sing “Bourne Three” (“Born Free”). Ha ha ha.
What type of music relaxes you the most?
That depends on my mood. Something like Enya would do the trick. Anything except classical. Classical music winds me up big time. It makes me feel like I’m in a lift (elevator) or a restaurant. I keep expecting the doors to ding open on the sports equipment floor, or someone to come over and ask me if my food is to my liking.
If you could instantly become fluent in another language, what would that language be and why?
Didn’t I already more or less answer this one, and went for Klingon? I’ll choose something else, then. I’ll go for “American”. That way I won’t have to keep looking stuff up. Especially food. I spent years thinking “zucchini” was some sort of exotic meal, when in reality it’s just a courgette. What the hell is “falafel” or this “bear claw” thing people on US dramas keep eating? It would be nice to have this information at my fingertips!
If you could fly or breathe under water what would you prefer?
I would prefer to fly! As Abba said in the song “Eagle”:
“And I dream I’m an eagle
And I dream I can spread my wings
Flying high, high, I’m a bird in the sky
I’m an eagle that rides on the breeze
High, high, what a feeling to fly
Over mountains and forests and seas
And to go anywhere that I please”
That’s all for this week! Bonus question? What bonus question?
Going Solo
A bit later than usual this week, but here is my submission for Friday Fictioneers. Hosted by Rochelle, the goal is to write roughly 100 words in response to a photo which this week has been contributed by regular Fictioneerer BjĂśrn Rudberg. To see all of this week’s contributions, click the little blue froggy.
Copyright BjĂśrn Rudberg
World-renowned guitarists and best friends Frank Marks and Barry Strykes, 10 year anniversary tour here tonight. One night only! Sold out!
*****
Frank
Look at him sitting there with his stupid oversized banjo. Ten years I’ve had to listen to his amateurish plucking. Letâs see how well he strums after his brakes fail and he goes over the cliff. I’m going solo!
*****
Barry
A whole decade of sitting here covering his asinine mistakes. He missed that chord, the talentless little shit. Letâs see how well he strums when the strychnine in his nightcap rips him apart. I’m going solo!
Chocolatey Madness
We’re all taught to share our stuff, yes?
Surely this doesn’t apply to chocolate? Chocolate has a special exemption. Here’s a photo of the back of a large-size (not what I’d call “large size”, in what crazy mixed-up universe is 100g of chocolate “large-size”?) Milky Bar I bought a couple of weeks ago.
Great for sharing, apparently.
I bunged on an episode of Grey’s Anatomy and five minutes later the Milky Bar was in my tummy. All of it.
“Great for sharing?”
As if.
(And if anyone thinks they’re getting a bite of my Easter eggs they can jog on.)
Sharing My World Week 15
It’s Sharing My World time again, hosted by Cee at her photography blog.
Here are this week’s questions.
For your blog do you basically use Windows or Mac, laptop, desktop, pad, or phone?
I’ll read on anything but I always write my blog on my Dell Latitude Ultrabook. I’m not sure what the difference between a laptop and an ultrabook is. It’s actually way outside my budget but I bought it from Dell Outlet, where people buy stuff and then immediately send it back so Dell resell it cheap, so ÂŁ1100 became ÂŁ650. Cool! It runs Windows 7.
I need a keyboard to type at any sort of speed. That’s why I use a laptop rather than my tablet or phone. And I need to be able to use it, which is why it runs Windows 7 rather than Windows 8 đ
Here it is. I’m writing this post on it – freaky!
As a kid, what did you want to be when you grew up?
I wanted to be either a football (soccer player) or a train driver. Fortunately neither came to pass.
Every summer we visited my Gran in the north of Scotland and to get there we went by train much of the way. The car went with us on the train. It was very exciting, hence “train driver”. As it happens, though, driving a train isn’t as exciting as it looks. As for “football player”, well, doesn’t everyone? The closest I ever got to that dream was handing out half-time oranges at primary school. I didn’t get to play because I sucked.
Did you grow up in a small or big town? Did you like it?
I grew up in a little village, but only until I was five so I don’t really remember it. We then moved to the biggest (only, in fact) city in Cornwall, a teeming metropolis of around twenty thousand people. Ah, city life. The bright lights, the crowds etc etc.
Since then I’ve lived in reasonably-sized cities (Guildford, Cork, Stuttgart) but I like where I live now, a little village again, though I’ve only been here two months. Yesterday was very weird. It was a beautiful day. I was outside doing a bit of gardening, a couple of others were washing their cars. Everyone said “hello”. Then my friend from around the corner came round with two of her little kiddies and we all went to the village market. I felt all grown up. When did that happen?
How old would you be if you didn’t know how old you are?
Probably around 30, though I like knowing that I’m older when I get all the weird aches and pains. If I’d had these aches and pains at 30 I would have been seriously worried. Here is a list I have compiled of all my ages:
- Emotional age: 16
- Life experience age: 30
- “I’m getting too old for this” age: 52
- First thing in the morning age: 12
- Any time after 9pm age: 93
- Physical age: 107
- Actual age? Well, I posted a photo a little while ago, have a guess! Anyone guessing over 50 will be removed from my Christmas list.
Bonus question: Â What are you grateful for from last week, and what are you looking forward to in the week coming up?
I hate this question. It doesn’t seem like a “bonus” to me. I’m glad nothing went wrong last week and I hope nothing goes wrong next week? I’ll just copy and paste that from now on.
See you next week!
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Woohoo!
I totally didn't win!
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