by Dani J Caile
Mathew:...extremely sensitive area' maneuver. The onlookers raised paws to their mouths as...
Dani: the sound of ripping flesh intruded on their as yet unperturbed sanity of mind.
Mathew:With a final shriek of defiance, the monkey lurched backwards...
Dani: ...,bananas and nuts filling the air, splashing into the yellow, viscous cloudlike pool, leaving the poor creature with nothing more than...
Mathew:...a tuft of hair around the back of his ears. Enraged at the loss of his once luxurious fur, he lunged...
Dani: ...towards the cat, tripped on his own Fatty Patty inflatable jumbo love doll he'd prepared for the second attraction of the day and...
Mathew:... landed on his now bare skinned belly. The momentum of that fall slid him backwards, limbs flaying, right into the pool. The splash...
Dani: of the thick yellow/green soup within the pool, unnaturally defying gravity as it slunk through the air, ...
Mathew:...splattered all onlookers, doused any and everything unprotected. The cat, untouched as a cat always is, leaped onto the fence once more to survey the damage. Satisfied that the task was done, he left, victorious and proud.
Dani: THE END
Mathew:(bows)
Dani: (bows)
Weekend Quickie 39 - Let's make some money
(image - 'mermaid' / shark egg, element - cumerindine), emotion - inspiration from a song on the radio)
"What the hell is that, Hanini?"
"Leave it!" He slapped Ano's hand off his latest treasure and continued to watch the computer screen.
"Nah, really, what is it?"
Hanini sighed and swivelled around to his annoying friend.
"You wanna know? You really wanna know?"
Ano nodded.
"Well, the other morning I was walking on the beach and saw something washed up on the sand. I was singing a song I'd just heard on the radio while driving over there, you know that one, "Beauty in the water," that one."
"Oh yeah, that's a real shit song that, is."
"Yeah, right, but I saw this thing lying on the sand and the song gave me some inspiration, you know."
"No. So what's this thing doing...?"
"So I picked it up and brought it home. It was dry and brittle, so I put some cumerindine on it and left it for a few days."
"That's good stuff, that is."
"Yeah, well, I wiped it all off, worked on it and there ya go, a work of art."
"Wow, so what is it?"
"Can't ya guess?" Hanini turned back to his screen. "Way-hey! Bid's up to $2000 so far on ebay!" They high-fived.
69 - To Clip
(the King and Queen of the Zombie Masquerade Ball, Thornwood tableware, Fly Ranch Geyser, as many Janus words as possible)
"What? Where are we?" Ethan blinked his sore eyes and looked around for a drink, any drink, in the small pink Toyota. His tongue felt like a shag pile carpet.
"It's a geyser!" squeaked Samantha, his _peer_, sitting in the driver's seat.
Drinking from a coke bottle, with some of its contents _left_, Ethan tried to recall the night before, where himself and Samantha had won King and Queen at the college's Zombie Masquerade Ball. They were still dressed as zombies, Samantha with her fantastic _set_ makeup on. It suited her.
"Yes, I know that, but how did we _wind up_ here? Let me _ravel_ this out. Last thing I knew we were having fun at the party, _literally_."
"Well, I thought I'd better be _fast_. You always said you wanted to see a real geyser, so, I popped us in the car and drove here."
"Geyser? What? You've got some _oversight_ there. I said I've always wanted to see a real geisha, not geyser, and besides, this one isn't real, it's a _model_."
"It isn't real? It's very colourful, though."
Ethan watched her try to keep a smile as she _puzzled_ it over.
"Yeah. And it's over 200 km from the college.You drove all night to get here in this crummy car you _leased_?"
"Yes." Samantha crossed her arms, sat there in silience for a while, then _resigned_ herself to the situation. "How do you know so much about this place?"
"You did a school project on it when you were younger. You only _spliced_ websites, didn't do _aught_ for it but I can still remember it."
"So, smarty pants, _adumbrate_ it all for me." She was _moot_.
"Okay. This is Fly Ranch Geyser, a man-made geothermal geyser, _rooted_ in 1964. It is a well with a mound created from accumulated dissolved minerals."
"Wonderful, well, I _table_ we begin."
"Begin?"
With a sigh, Samantha _bolted_, lifted a picnic basket and _bounded_ away.
"What is this? A date? Our relationship _buckled_ a long time ago."
"It's...a picnic."
"The way I feel, I'd rather _strike_ that. I won't _sanction_ it." Ethan couldn't _weather_ it anymore.
"I don't care, you _sanguine_ zombie, you. Anyway, it's a _custom_."
Why was she doing this, _dusting_ this road? He _let_ her move on, though he wished to _cleave_ it all.
"Oh, yeah, I forgot. Okay, _fine_,...what are these?" Ethan _scanned_ the utensils Samantha had _given out_. They looked like something from a rosebush.
"Thornwood tableware. You said my silverware was a snobbish _handicap_ so I bought some more. You should've seen the _bill_."
"Yes, but these...ouch!" The handles of knives and forks _comprised_ of thorns. "Why couldn't they _trim_ them?"
"They did. Now, _temper_ yourself and start. I don't know about you but I'm hungry."
Ethan _skinned_ the chicken but it was _impregnable_.
"Look, Samantha, I don't know what you're trying to _seed_ here, but I think you've _overlooked_ one simple fact that won't _hold up_."
"What's that, then?"
"I'm your pet labrador dog."
"And?"
Weekend Quickie 40 - No time
(image - VW campervan at night, element - hitchhiker, emotion - hopeful excitement)
"So, darling, you heading for the festival?" He'd struck gold. Not only were there a few chicks back at the tents with the guys, each one ready to be his girl with a click of his fingers, he'd picked up this blonde bombshell hitchhiker while going for his fags at the closest 24/7 gas station.
"Err, yeah?"
She looked amazing, definitely worth the hunt. He couldn't believe his luck, blood pumped with hopeful excitement.
"What's your name, hon?" He offered her a fag which she refused with a smile. So as to not try and kill the moment, he searched for a radio station playing some 'happening' music. Difficult at this time of night. The VW camper hit a few rocks on the rough road and bounced around.
"Whoops. You okay?"
"Sure."
Not much of a talker.
"Some big names this time round, you know."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. Me, I never miss it, always here, me, every year."
Hard one to crack. He glanced over and she smiled back nervously. She seemed preoccupied, mostly looking ahead through the windscreen. The camper's lights barely penetrated the darkness outside.
"Sorry, what was your name agai...?"
Thick black red burning blood pierced his brain.
70 - For Better For Worse
(demolition derby, light sabres, mud wrestling, roman candles)
The match was on, full blast, the large flat green screen glowing in one corner of their living room, her husband grinning and cheering in the other, beer can in dirty hand. He hadn't bothered to wash since coming back from his workplace, dumping himself down in his favourite chair and flicking on the television. The kids quietly played in the kitchen looking like they'd already suffered one scalding from their father.
"What you doing?"
"Eh? What does it look like? Watching the game!" He gulped down another mouthful of his cheap beer. "Got any snacks?"
"Unless you want some of the kids Cheerios, no. Where's the money?"
"Here." He patted
his trouser pocket but showed no movement to give her any for the weekly shopping.
"I got food to get."
"Then get going. And buy some nuts, I want some nuts. And be quick!"
"But I can't shop without money."
He begrudingly handed over a wad of cash, barely enough. A long stare got his attention.
"What?"
"I need more than that."
"I ain't got any more."
"What did you do, drink it away?"
"Don't you start!" One team scored in the match. "Yes!"
"I really don't know what I saw in you..."
His head slowly turned and his eyes narrowed, but a smile came over his face.
"I remember that night, the first time I saw you, mud wrestling with that buxom brunette cousin of yours. Ha, if it weren't for your sharp hawk-like features and flowing red hair I would've thought you were a man."
"You pig! I knew you'd had my cousin. She's always had an eye for you!"
"Then why did you go for me, huh? Huh?"
"...for your collection of Lego light sabres, that's what."
He laughed and spilled some beer on the worn out carpet.
"Yeah, not much of a choice was there, me and my manly charms or that Brett guy and his toys. That light weight poofter." He tried to grab her around the waist but missed. "Oh, and that first night, eh? There were some fireworks that night, eh?"
"More like cheap roman candles that fizzed out after a few seconds."
He went back to his match and beer.
"And what about the car?"
He was ignoring her now.
"The car! I need to use something to go shopping in! You said you'd sort it out this week!"
The other team scored, making it even.
"There's nothing wrong with the car, it runs like a dream. It's your driving that's the problem."
"Dream? A dream? I once had a dream...but now I don't have time to dream, always rushing around this house, cleaning up after you and the kids. That car is a wreck! It's only good for the demolition derby!"
"That's a great car, that is." He drank up his beer and watched the match.
"Now I've gotta use the bus."
"Whatever. Be quick. Remember the nuts. Oh, and get me some more beer."
The kids went with her.
Weekend Quickie 41 - Embarrassing
(image - bowling alley lane and balls, element - a dare, emotion - disenchantment)
Yet another gutterball.
"You sure you wanna keep that bet?"
"A bet's a bet."
"You used to play like a whizz."
"Used to." I reached for my second ball with less enthusiasm than before. Lining up the shot with some hybrid 'stroker', I sent the ball down the lane. Seven pins. At least that was something. Brett looked over like I'd molested his aging mother.
"What is this? You played in the league when we were younger."
"I'm a little rusty." Truth was, I was lucky back then. Maybe it was the girls, the excitement, the underage drinking. My knees ached. Four years at college and three at the firm had changed things.
"A little?" Brett scored a double, making my miniscule numbers stand out on the scorecard, alone. His face said it all, he was disappointed in my performance and possibly embarrassed to be there on a Saturday night with all lanes busy among the crème of the town.
"Remember that dare?"
Brett was referring to that trick shot they once dared me to do in a tournament, the 2 handed backwards under legs shot.
"Yeah, I remember that." I laughed but he didn't.
"Don't do that."
A turkey.
71 - (Summer Prelim) - Death of another Salesman
(image-Minion Dave, image-Avengers and Justice League in a bar playing pool, travelling chamber pot salesperson, story must be told from the point of view of the Death, the Grim Reaper)
I sat down in the tacky leather armchair and handed my deathlist over to Maud the Controller. After millennia doing her job, you'd think she'd be able to run a tight ship. With crushed empty coffee cups and chocolate smeared Snickers wrappers strewn across her workspace, she looked up from the desk and gave her yellow toothed grin.
"Did you get what I asked for?"
Leaning my scythe against the wall of her dingy office, I pulled out the plastic wrapped consumer item, feeding her latest fad.
"Fantastic…!" She ripped open the box, held up the yellow rubber figure with real denim overalls and black spiky hair and stood it on her desk. Her grin faded. "What's this?"
"It's a nine inch Collector's Edition Minion Dave."
"Ah-ha." She pressed the tongue and tried to move its head but nothing happened. "It doesn't have the fart sounds."
"I thought you had enough wind up here without that."
"Shhh, these walls are paper thin. He's not in the best of moods. Had a few Scientologists go through this morning."
"Oh."
"So, no fart sounds?"
"This is the collector's edition, it's 'interactive'. You can talk to it and stuff. You even get a nice little certificate, see?"
"Right." She looked disappointed, but I was ready to play my trump card.
"Okay, here you go." I pulled out yet another item.
"Wow! A Fart Gun!"
"Knock yourself out."
"Cool…Miller's gonna love this." She hit the trigger once and laughed, then put it under the desk ready for some action later and set the Minion Dave on a shelf alongside some others of Stuart and Tim in front of her favourite 'dumb' poster of Captain America spilling Superman's beer over a pool table while the Justice League and Avengers looked on. To think that could ever happen, two groups of superhero law-abiding individuals putting beers on pool tables, let alone the two universes of Marvel and DC colliding to allow them to cohabit the same bar in complete harmony. Ludicrous. Absolutely ludicr…
"Grim, what's this?"
Damn. Foiled again.
"What's what?"
"You didn't…"
"I didn't what?"
"You popped another salesman?"
"A what?"
"Look, Mr Reaper, I know you don't like them but you have to be more careful with that scythe of yours."
I shifted in my chair, deflated yet composed. She pointed back to the list.
"Suicide?"
"Sorry?"
"Between the market analyst and the sanitation technician."
It's a fair cop, gov'nor.
"Oh yeah."
"And a travelling chamber pot salesperson? Chamber pots? They still make them?"
"In seventeen different colours, apparently."
"I see." She scribbled something down and signed it. "No more of that, okay?"
"Okay."
"Except for estate agents, of course. Gotta keep their numbers down." With one more yellow grin she passed me my new list. "Have a good time. And thanks."
"No problem." I left her to it and thought about the coming day. That Chrysler sales meeting I spotted over in Vegas seemed promising, that was definitely my first port of call.
Weekend Quickie 42 - Misunderstood
(image - fireworks in Washington, element - a feeling of independence, emotion - synesthesia)
"I...I don't know what happened, I was just watching the 4th of July fireworks the other night over in Washington and BAM, that was it."
She sat there, scribbling across the lined paper, a mass of black and white. He didn't understand, she was so normal before.
"I can see them, like on a screen in my mind, continuously coming. I must write them down!"
He wasn't quick enough to change his expression as she looked up for a moment.
"What's wrong?"
"Are you okay? This isn't like you. Maybe you should go and sunbathe in the garden or something, relax a little."
"What? No! This is...this is something I've never felt before. I feel I have an incentive to do something, create something wonderful, something fantastic
. By writing this out it feels great, makes me so free, so alive, it even gives me a sense of independence, away from my worries and stress." She went back to the little black notes. "Ha, isn't that funny, talking about independence. It started on Independence Day. And I looked it up, it's chromesthesia, a form of synesthesia "
He placed a loving hand on her shoulder.
"I'll go and call the doctor."
72 - Team Building
(Repeated unsuccessful attempts at starting a campfire/fireplace fire, favorite childhood memory that actually is a lie, funeral of a stranger, sign "fail")
"This is the last time I go on one of those team building weekends," moaned Shaun.
"But you're the organiser!" screamed Karen, right into his face. He cowered into a ball and hid in the trees around the clearing.
"Bob, haven't you got that fire ready yet?" asked Dave, Shaun's second-in-charge.
"No. I'm an accountant, not a woodsman. You try."
"Me? I've never made a fire in my life. Never even got a scout badge."
"What?" Tracy started up on Dave. "Five days we've been going around in these woods, first we've gotta deal with this 'jellyfish'…"
"Easy now, Shaun's had a bad time of it lately, what with his wife leaving and her taking custody of the dog…"
"Who gives a shit about the dog! Look! Look at that!" Karen pushed Dave over to the other side of the clearing, where the slowly rotting corpse of their fellow team builder 'whatsisname' lay. "I think there are bigger things to worry about than a bloody dog!"
"Well, he shouldn't've touched that sign."
"What, the sign that said "Caution, this sign has sharp edges". What kind of sign is that?" yelled Tracy.
"Let's just settle down, alright?" Keith was the quiet, calm type. "I thought we already came to the decision. We give…whatsisname…a funeral befitting a viking warrior…"
"Without the boat," mentioned Bob, still blowing on the smoke, trying to get the fire going and needing to relight it with yet another match from their dwindling supply.
"Yes, thank you, Bob. Light the fire, okay?" Keith dragged the body of 'whatsisname' closer to the large pile of unlit wood. "Does anyone know his name?"
"Dave?" threatened Karen.
"Err, no. Shaun thought we'd leave the list of names at basecamp, to make it a more 'connecting' team building exercise, no one knowing who is who, everyone getting together…"