Archive

Posts Tagged ‘The Stoner Trilogy’

MFTS – A Stoner’s Soul

June 8, 2015 53 comments

It’s Mondays Finish the Story time, hosted by Barbara Beacham. This is the one where we get a photo and an opening sentence.

This is the final part of “The Stoner Trilogy”. If you remember, in “The Highest Spirits“, Chad and Brad lost their souls, and in “Fool Me Twice” they were conned into a “Trial” by the lead spirit, Basil.

This was the best I could do, given the number of words and while attempting to make each story reasonably standalone. Here is the cast of characters:

Chad – a stoner
Brad – another stoner
Basil – a cunning head spirit

and introducing special guest star ZEUS as ZEUS, a powerful and currently quite irritated god.

The opening sentence is in bold in my story, and other contributions may be found by clicking the blue froggy.

2015-06-08-bw-beacham

Copyright B.W. Beacham

 

ZEUS was not having a good day and he made sure everyone knew it.

First his “soldiers” were too wide for his boiled eggs, now the spirits of Miners Hill had taken it upon themselves to capture souls!

The sky lit up as if on fire as ZEUS vented his rage. Spirit Chad looked suspiciously at his insubstantial joint.

“Thunder and lightning for the Trial, dude,” explained Spirit Brad.

“Heavy,” said Chad. Rain began to fall, extinguishing his joint. His face fell.

“BASIL!” screamed ZEUS to the lead spirit. “STEALING SOULS WITHOUT MY PERMISSION?”

“Um,” stuttered Basil. “Um…”

ZEUS fired more lightning which narrowly missed Chad, clipping and reigniting his joint.

“Epic!” said Chad, taking a puff.

“RETURN THEIR SOULS AT ONCE!”

With a wave of Basil’s hand, it was done.

“This calls for a celebration!” said Brad, reaching into his underpants for his special hidden stash.

Against all odds Chad and Brad lived to a ripe old age. And although our stoners could remember almost none of it, they both agreed (on their smoke-shrouded death bed) that they’d had a stonkingly Epic Time.

 

MFTS – Fool Me Twice

June 1, 2015 43 comments

Here is my contribution for Barbara Beacham’s Mondays Finish the Story for this week. For this challenge we get 150 words or so plus a photo and an opening sentence.

I must confess, I’m twenty-odd words over this week. Sorry :-(. This week’s story picks up pretty much where last week’s left off, as we rejoin newly-deceased stoners Chad and Brad, their souls ripped from their bodies after mistaking tales of alcoholic beverages with spirits of the ghostly variety.

To read this week’s other stories, click on the blue froggy. The supplied opening sentence is in bold in my story.

2015-06-01-bw-beacham

Copyright B.W. Beacham

 

“What a tangled web we weave, when first we practise to deceive, dude.”

So saying, Chad jabbed the lead ghostly spirit (Basil by name), his fingers coming away covered with ectoplasm, sticky and insubstantial as a spider’s web.

“I’M SURE I DON’T KNOW WHAT YOU MEAN,” intoned Basil.

“You lured us here with talk of spirits,” complained Chad. “Vodka, whisky…”

“Advocaat,” added Brad, puffing on a joint.

“AND SPIRITS YOU FOUND!” laughed Basil. “DON’T YOU JUST LOVE HOMONYMS!”

“Chad, calm down!” said Brad, offering him an insubstantial joint. Chad took a puff.

“Dude!” he exclaimed happily.

“Dude,” agreed Brad.

“We want back in our bodies, dead Dude,” said Chad, pointing at his corpse.

“PERHAPS… THERE IS A WAY,” pondered Basil. “WOULD YOU CONSENT TO… TRIAL IN COURT?”

“Hell yeah!” said Chad before Brad could stop him. “No jury in the world will rule against us!”

“BWAHAHA!” laughed Basil. “TRIAL BY COMBAT! IN THE COURT OF THE DAMNED! FOOLED YOU AGAIN, GULLIBLE STONERS!”

“Dude,” said Chad.

“Dude,” agreed Brad. “You know what we need?”

“Yeah!”

And so the pair set off in search of more ghostly weed, the better to endure the trials ahead.

 

MFTS – The Highest Spirits

May 25, 2015 71 comments

Here’s my story for Barbara Beacham’s Mondays Finish the Story.

To read the other stories, click on the blue froggy. The supplied opening sentence is in bold in my story.

2015-05-25-bw-beacham

Copyright B.W. Beacham

 

“The only residents remaining in the small town of Miners Hill are spirits.”

“That was the end of the myth? Heavy,” said Chad.

“Yep,” said Brad. “And there it is. Miners Hill.”

“Wow. It really is black and white. I thought it was just an old photo.”

They scrambled down the hill.

“Spirits, the myth says? What kind, d’ya think?”

“I’m hopin’ vodka, whisky, maybe even… the Good Stuff.”

“Wow. Advocaat? Heavy.”

Suddenly a host of ghostly apparitions appeared.

“Whoa!” Chad pulled the joint out of his mouth and stared at it suspiciously.

“I can see them too, and I’m not even high!” said Brad.

“Oh, dude, you gave up?” asked Chad sympathetically.

“Yeah, it’s kinda tough…”

“IF YOU TWO DON’T MIND?” broke in one of the spirits. “YOUR SOULS ARE FORFEIT.”

“No! Not my Nikes!” Chad looked in dismay at his footwear.

“SOULS. WITH A ‘U’.”

And so the lads joined the ranks of the dead, booze in hand, weed in mouth, the highest spirits of Miners Hill.