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FF – Pre-Worn
Here is my story for this week’s Friday Fictioneers, hosted by Rochelle. The photo comes courtesy of Sarah Potter.
I nearly did a serious one this week, thinking about cobwebs in the brain or some such in an attempt to look past the picture, but it didn’t quite pan out…
(On a hunch I Googled “knackered” and discovered it’s British slang, so if you haven’t heard it before, it means worn out/tired out/damaged by use.)
Copyright Sarah Potter
Billed as a perfect complement to their Pre-Worn-LookTM sweaters and ripped jeans, comes Distressed ShoesTM. CEO of Frightful ClothingTM, Matt Moronik explains:
“Who wants to wander down the high street in their Pre-Worn-LookTM clothes wearing brand new-looking pearly-white trainers? People would laugh.”
That’s not why people are laughing, Matt. Moronik goes on:
“For a limited period, pre-order our Pre-Worn-LookTM Shite ShoesTM and get a can of cobweb-substitute absolutely free!”
So there you have it. A world gone mad. Don’t I feel silly in my immaculately-pressed shirt and perfectly-creased trousers.
Next week, the CEO of Pre-KnackeredTM Cars explains his new range, Already-CrashedTM.
Pegman – Mayhem in Russia
Here is my post for What Pegman Saw, which this week takes us to St. Petersburg. The other stories for this week can be found by clicking on the blue froggy.
Some high octane excitement this week!
Copyright Google
The sound of sirens came closer. Around the corner sped a sports car, followed by a host of police cars. One of the pursuit overshot, smashing into a wall.
The sports car accelerated, spewing a thick, dark substance. The closest of the police cars skidded, flying into the river. The sports car spun to a halt, facing the remaining pursuit and accelerated in a deadly game of “chicken”. Two police cars smashed into a shop, another joined its friend in the river. The sports car vaulted the railing and shot across the water, executed twelve spins, bounced off a boat, flipped end over end and sped away.
Two old men watched the scene.
“That’ll be James Bond.”
“No, Alexei. Too flashy, yes? And not an Aston Martin. It’ll be that Jason Bourne.”
Alexei nodded. “Or Ethan Hunt, maybe. Just once I wish these foreign asshole spies trash their own city.”
FF – Miracle Face
Here is my story for Friday Fictioneers, hosted by Rochelle. This week’s photo was contributed by Kelvin M. Knight.
A sombre and thoughtful piece this week. Only joking! It’s craziness 🙂
I have included a short glossary so you can understand what Mr Nutman is saying.
- Oi = I
- sarnie = sandwich
- Mouf = mouth
- peepholes = eyes
- monkey = £500
- fought = thought
Copyright Kelvin M. Knight
“Miracle” face appears in slice of bread!
Chiswick resident Bingo Nutman, 67, discovered the staggering phenomenon after opening his lunchbox. Nutman explains:
“Oi came ‘cross this ‘ere mir’cle face in me sarnie. Mouf, peepholes, ev’ryfink. There’ll be a monkey in this fer me if oi sells it to the tabloids, oi fought.”
Unfortunately for Nutman, it later transpired that his wife Imelda, 71, had been cutting heart shapes in his lunchtime treats because she “thought it would be romantic”.
Nutman, denied his payout, is understood to be seeking divorce, citing “irreconcilable differences” and “theft of bread with intent to starve”.
Pegman – Under New Management
Here is my story for What Pegman Saw. This week we’re in San Juan, Puerto Rico.
It took ages to find a reasonably old-fashioned-looking building. It’s all so new-looking! Also, sorry to be fixated on American oversees territories, but I needed to find a reasonable timeline with a starting point in Puerto Rico. I wanted to get in a dig at the British and their pie and mash and warm beer, but it was not to be 😦
I did a lot of Wiki research 🙂 and the timeline appears to be – Puerto Rico became American in 1898 (ex-Spanish), the Danish West Indies became American (American Virgin Islands) in 1917 and Guam became officially American in 1950. Apart from that, please ignore historical inaccurcies 🙂
Copyright Google
“Hey, Juan, yesterday we were Spanish, today we’re American! This world, eh? I’ll celebrate with a sangria!”
“Any excuse, Alejandro, you varmint.”
“Why are you suddenly talking like that? Urk, yeuch! What is this muck?”
“It’s called ‘Bud Light’. It’s what we serve here now.”
“Since when?”
“Since now.”
“Humph. Give me food to wash away the taste.”
“Today’s special. Enjoy. Ya varmint.”
“What? What is this? Where’s my paella? Stop saying ‘varmint’.”
“It’s called ‘hamburger’. It’s actually cow.”
“Amigo, this nationality conversion is playing havoc here at the taberna.”
“Bar, this is a bar now.”
“I can’t keep up. I’m moving to the Danish West Indies.”
19 years later…
“Hey, Viggo, yesterday we were Danish, today we’re American! This world, eh? I’ll celebrate with a mead…”
After finally getting fed up with hamburgers and Bud Light, Alejandro moves to Guam in 1949…
FF – The Greatest Loss
Here is my story for Friday Fictioneers, hosted by Rochelle. This week’s photo comes courtesy of Danny Bowman.
To read this week’s other stories, click on the blue froggy.
Copyright Danny Bowman
Agony. Terror.
These are not words which immediately spring to mind when exposed to such an idyllic scene. Endless, rolling hills, sky tinged red with the sunset, the gentle chirruping of insects…
Mind-chilling horror. Guts aflame, like a burning knife thrust deep in your innards. Brain melting as all you knew is ripped away…
These are not phrases one would associate with such a tranquil setting. Yet for one young man, not yet fourteen, it is something he must now face.
“Dad, something’s wrong! My Facebook’s not loading.”
“There’s no phone coverage out here, son.”
“BY ALL THAT’S HOLY, NOOOooooooo!”
Pegman – A New Age
Here is my post for What Pegman Saw, which this week takes us to The Poisson-Blanc area of Quebec.
I’m trying out a different writing style here. Partly because I’m really busy and this style of part-sentences took less than 10 minutes to type. Compose the general idea in your head and then just let the words tumble out, I say 🙂
Copyright Google
Thousands of miles across country, crammed into two small vans. Everywhere, signs of the Infection. Dead animals, dying plants. Rabid people. Food from tins only, all water boiled twice.
Not a nice way to live. Hardly living at all.
Onwards, always onwards, mile after mile, days into weeks into months.
At last, Canada. Rumours of safety. A sanctuary, hidden in the forests of Quebec. People there, real, live, uninfected people.
The Infection could only reach so far, couldn’t it? It had to stop eventually, didn’t it?
Arrival. At last, safety. Excited, over-excited, disembarking, shouting in joy! People coming to meet us!
Too excited… we fail to notice the shuffling gait, the too-pale skin. The smell. We fail to notice all these things and so we succumb. The Infection has us.
The last of the human race. Somebody had to be.
Goodbye Homo Sapiens. Welcome to the Age of Homo Infectus.
FF – How to Fix Your House
Here is my story for Friday Fictioneers, hosted by Rochelle. This week’s picture was sent in by Roger Bulltot.
I hope my story works okay, I had to cut a lot out 😦
To read this week’s other stories, click on the blue froggy.
Copyright Roger Bulltot
“What is this, oh Ghost of Future?”
“This is your manor two hundred years from now. Broken, dilapidated, your family living in poverty.”
“What must I do, oh Ghost?”
“Stop being a doormat! Take control!”
“I will, I will! I shall start whipping the servants immediately!”
“Good.”
With that, the “ghost” vanished, appearing two hundred years later inside a very well appointed mansion. He stepped out of the time bubble and looked around.
“Well, that worked.”
A drop of water dribbled through the ceiling. He checked his bank balance and frowned.
“Hmm, now to do something about great-grandfather’s investment portfolio…”
Pegman – Spies Like Him
Here is my story for What Pegman Saw. It’s tricky this week, as we’re off to North Korea, and there’s quite a lack of pictures. Practically no photos and, of course, no Street View. All we ever seem to get from there are official photos of Kim Jong-un grinning as his tanks rumble past, or another missile test takes place (which may or may not suddenly drop out of the sky).
Copyright Google
Unbelievable. Branded a spy! He’d barely escaped, racing across the (thankfully) almost-empty square and into a storm drain. So he’d accidentally caught some missiles and blueprints in the background of a couple of (hundred) snaps. They shouldn’t leave their rockets just lying around in their top secret high security labs where just anyone might stumble over them.
Okay, maybe they had a point.
He’d tried to use Street View to navigate his way out but apparently Google’s Street Cars were as persona non grata as he was.
So here he was, hiding with a parachute in the nose-cone of a missile. It had launched for testing a couple of minutes ago. He just had to time his bail-out correctly to make the submarine rendezvous. As long as the Korean scientists had got it right this time and the missile didn’t explode in mid-…
BANG!
Bugger. It was gonna be a long swim.
FF – Unhappy Camping
Here is my story for Friday Fictioneers, hosted by Rochelle. The photo was contributed by Jan Wayne Fields.
I had real trouble with this one 😦 . Here is what I ended up with.
For this week’s other stories, click on the blue froggy.
Copyright Jan Wayne Fields
Jeremy scowled into his beer. Three days they’d been here and he hadn’t shot anything. Fairground fun for the kids, hunting for Dad. Huh.
Hearing a crashing in the bushes he grabbed his hunting rifle. The foliage parted to reveal a bear! Taking aim, he fired. The bullet ripped through the bear’s head.
Stuffing flew everywhere.
“Muuuummmy! Daddy shot Teddddyyyyy!”
“For God’s sake, Jeremy, how could you be so stupid? And reckless? She only just won that!”
“Thought it was coming at me,” mumbled Jeremy.
“It’s wearing a bow tie!”
“I’m still gonna strap it to the front of the car.”
“Whaaaaaaa!”
Pegman – Taking the Plunge
Here is my story for What Pegman Saw. I hope nobody minds, but while on my virtual tour of Wroclaw, Poland I found two pictures which fitted my story perfectly (and it took both to inspire my story). I won’t make a habit of it, I promise. There’s actually nothing in the rules which says it can only be one picture… ahem 🙂
To read this week’s other stories, click on the blue froggy.
Copyright Google
Patryk stood on the ledge and stared down on the city he knew so well. Used to know so well.
The old shops, the tower blocks… never perfect, but familiar. Now it was all glass and steel, stark functionality making way to aesthetics.
Not that he missed the Soviet era – it had its faults to be sure – but you knew where you were. Keep your head down, don’t make a fuss. Now it was all very cut-throat. Too complicated for an old man like him.
So here he stood. On a ledge, lamenting the past. A past gone forever. He shuffled forward, a bead of sweat trickling down his cheek. Heart thumping, he stepped forward, plummeting towards the ground. As the pavement grew closer, he took a deep breath…
… and pulled the ripcord. “Woohoooooo!”
So his beloved Wroclaw had changed. Change with it! Have fun. You’re never too old!
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Woohoo!
I totally didn't win!
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