by Dani J Caile
"No, mum. I've got a tin here."
"Okay, well, I have to pop out to the shops. Hold the fort." And she walked out of the back door with handbag over shoulder. Beef sat up again and Valerie noticed the cat food under his arm. Their eyes met.
"Tiger lily. Did you know?"
Beef liked to lecture. Valerie searched the table for tobacco papers.
"?has many medicinal uses?"
"I did not know that." She licked the papers, put them together and took out a cigarette.
"It helps in supressing aggressive tendencies?"
"Rather like weed, then, eh?" Breaking the filter off, she ripped open the fag and arranged the tobacco.
"?and has proved to help in the nausea and vomiting of pregnancy."
"I'll have to remember that one," she winked, taking out her weed and sprinkling some along the pile.
"When baked, the bulbs taste rather like potatoes."
"Cool. When we run out of chips, we'll all go down to the florists." She wrapped up the paper, licking it closed and twisting one end shut. Only the roach needed.
"But?" Beef pushed the tin of catfood forward and opened it by pulling up the key. From nowhere, the cat Alonzo jumped up on the table. "It has toxic effects on cats." He scraped the flower pieces into the tin and mixed it up. "That's the last time he poops in my Steampunk goggles."
Valeries watched open-mouthed as the cat tucked in.
Weekend Quickie 81 (83) - Not lovers Quarrel
(Love, ice cream, murder, Heterophobia. 150 words)
Dawn dropped her ice cream and ran, not knowing what else she could do. The screams of passers-by alerted two policeman who happened to be standing at the corner of the plaza.
"He's dead!" howled an old woman, holding one hand to her mouth. "She murdered him!" Her other hand pointed in the direction of Dawn, now jumping down the steps in her Dr. Martens to the metro station below.
She had no idea...why did she react that way? Why did he have to tell her that she loved him? She was gay and he knew it! Enraged, she broke free of his 'loving' embrace and stabbed him in the chest with her overly sharp metal wristbands, the official badge of her 'wolfpack' of lesbian friends and lovers. It was no accident he was dead but she'd never planned to do it, either.
"Stop, madam! Police!"
She kept running.
99 - Sucks
(cartoon image of writer drinking coffee, smoking and trying to write, a howdah, told from a POV of an alien who views humans both as food and pets, floor buffer)
Stravskee said there were good pickings on this planet and he was right. He did warn me, however, that I'd have to watch out, as these beasts weren't all as dumb as they looked, with their smooth hairless bodies and four protruding limbs. Some took them home as pets, finding their grotesque form 'cute'. How they thought that, I had no idea, they were disgusting, their habits and smells so alien to me. I was here for food. The light jump between the last few quadrants had made me peckish. It was time to taste this so-called 'food from the heavens'.
"Ben! Is there anymore coffee? I really need a refill."
One of them was bent over a wooden structure, with smoke escaping from a long tube in its mouth, perhaps some breathing device. Its body sat on a metal stool and with one of its free limbs, bled a blue liquid onto a pressed fibrous material, creating scribbles on its surface. My first meal.
"No, Lexi! I'm going down the pub! I've started the 'monster' up!"
"What? No, honey, you can't do that! How can I concentrate on writing my novel now?"
"Close the door! Anyway, you're the one who chose it! I wanted a Henry but you had to go and buy this souped-up floor buffer!"
"It's an XV-12!"
"It's a menace, that's what it is! It sucked up one of my slippers the other week!"
These creatures were noisy, with their many mating calls and gestures. I would pounce on this first portion of meat as soon as they quietened down.
"It's just very efficient."
"You said it would 'free us to explore other roads'. Well, I'm off to explore Tooley Street."
"No, wait!"
"Why?"
"Can you bring me a refill?"
"What are you? Some Maharaja on a howdah? Get off your arse and get your own coffee!"
"Please!"
The closest creature held up some ceramic object. This was clearly a symbolic ritual of release from the mate as the other poured a liquid into the reciprical and left the area with a loud bang of wood. Another sound began further away but this did not bother the sitting beast, who began to bleed more blue liquid onto the fibrous material. It was time to make my move. I crept closer to the wooden structure, hidden by my cloaking device and looked up at my next meal. The file mentioned that there were many ways to down this creature, though from here it was difficult to make a sudden attack. It needed to be standing. I threw a sound grenade between the wood at the end of the confined area and heard the explosion.
"What the hell?"
The beast stood up and separated the wood. Now was my chance! I readied my stance and allowed my claws to extend to their full length. My mouth began to drool with the impending taste of blood. A large and loud machine entered my view, its pull was too strong...
Weekend Quickie #81 (84) - Spurs
(Skittles, spurs, image of woman on horse (cowboy style), feeling of being perplexed)
He chewed away on his Skittles, mesmerized by the picture on the wall.
"What's the problem, Matt?" I asked, taking a few candies from the pack.
"I'm perplexed."
"Why?"
"This is a picture of your mother, right?"
"It's a photo she put through some fancy computer effect she thought was cool at the time, but yeah, it's my mother."
"Well, isn't your mother scared of horses?"
"Yes, she is."
We looked at the Skittles, noticing the lack of candy. Matt scrunched up the packet.
"Then what is she doing in this picture?"
"She's sitting on a horse in cowboy gear."
"I don't get it. She's scared shitless of horses."
"Yes, she is. This picture was taken just before they put the spurs on."
"Spurs?"
"Yeah, one kick from them and the horse went crazy. She broke three ribs, her collarbone and punctured a lung in the fall."
"Wow, that sucks."
Weekend Quickie Sunday Edition 82 (85) - Let it Go
(A picture of the Frozen sisters, Elsa and Anna, cheese, a conman, a song from the movie The Sound of Music.)
They came skipping in, holding a picture of the Frozen sisters and singing that song.
"Let it go, let it go! Can't hold it back any...!"
"Sandwiches?" I passed over a plate full of crustless beauties.
"Yes!" Jenny took a few and scoffed them down. Suzie, my daughter, scrutinised them.
"What's in them?"
"Cheese. From the market."
"Yuk, I hate cheese." I knew what was coming.
"I'll eat them!" smiled Jenny. I gave her the plate.
"Mum, why didn't you buy me that fantastic Frozen stationary set from the market?" my daughter asked.
"Darling, you have at least two sets like that."
"Not that one."
"I'm not buying that kind of stuff off the market. They're all cheats and conmen."
"You bought cheese."
I ignored her.
"How about another sing-song, hey? 'High on a hill was a lonely goatherd, Lay ee odl lay ee odl lay hee hoo!'"
"Ah, mum!"
100 - Carry on up the Flagpole
(anhydrous ammonia, white chocolate or dark chocolate, a flagpole, image of knight being held by 3 guards)
I watched the small brown stink bug creep along the inside of the embrasure. Its noble and treacherous journey across the great expanse of stone that was the outer wall, filled with endurance, endeavour and resolution, was soon to be halted by my...BANG...fist.
>
Oh, how dull it all was, Embroidery and harp lessons to look forward to today. And now? How I wished there was something better to do than staring down into the town, gazing over the peasants with their dirty, drab clothes and insignificant little lives...Sir Grabalot and his guards were down there with a captive right now. It was a particularly smelly one with a large flag protruding from his breeches saying 'Cleanpiece'...
"We found him in the undergrowth, sir, trying to hide!"
"What? With that dirty ruddy great banner sticking out of his arse? I guess he wasn't so hard to find, eh?" growled Sir Grabalot.
"For nature! For life!" shouted the captive.
"Foul knave! Philipos is scarred for life, thanks to you!" Grabalot slapped him across his pigshit covered face.
"I did my duty, for King and country! The use of Anhydrous ammonia as a fertilizer is an atrocity against nature! What is one man against such a barbarous act! Organic fertilizer forever!" The captive punched the air.
"You are sick! May you burn in hell with all your other green tree hugging long-haired hippy friends!" Grabalot wiped off the shit from his hand on one of the guards' tunics.
"I am not a hippy! Unhand me this instance!"
"Never!"
A guard broke the exchange. "Sir, we were able to close the valve on the tanks and restore the appropriate pressure."
"Excellent, Kronos! Nice shine to your helmet, there, man. Duragloss?" asked Grabalot.
"Horse manure, sir," replied Kronos.
"Ah, yes?"
The captive butted in. "Excuse me, but how is Philipos?"
"What? What is it to you, you snivelling, smelly worm, you?" Grabalot went to slap him again but thought better of it. The guards gave a sigh of relief.
"He's a third cousin on my wife's side, twice removed."
"Mmm. Small kingdom. Well, for your information, we're hosing him down with some water from the moat and filling him with copious amounts of dark chocolate. For the pain, you know."
"Quite."
"No thanks to you! Take him to 'the Sheriff'!" Grabalot gestured to the guards to move the captive over the drawbridge.
"No! Not 'the Sheriff'! Anything but 'the Sheriff'!"
"Oh, yes, 'the Sheriff'! If he doesn't clamp you in irons for this heinous crime, he'll no doubt read you some of his love poetry! Run that up your flagpole and see if anyone salutes it!"
"No! Mummy!"
The guards dragged the screaming captive through the main gate with Sir Grabalot at the fore. Oh goody, some afterlunch entertainment! I haven't seen one of Daddy's wonderful literary tortures since Sir Weaver passed through with his Dragon Slaying Knight Epitaph! Oh, this will be such fun, I must put on my best dress for such an occasion.
Weekend Quickie 82 (86) - Snow Day
(A Snow Day, Cajun food, a letter to a stranger. 150 words)
It was a snow day like no other. The drifts were six feet deep, some reaching ten, the roads frozen oceans waiting to crash against the rocks of the houses and street lamps were survivors of some unknown ship wreak, overboard and struggling to keep afloat above the white raging waves. The children, their schools shut for the day or week, no one cared, crunched through the soft cool cover with a fury, punching through the halted breakers and throwing snowballs to whomever they could find, while their guardians and providers of all stood aside, envying their every second.
It was that day she left us, dictating her last will and testament like some letter to a stranger, leaving her lifetime collections to her abundant loved ones, including her recipe for gumbo to Aunt Jemima. That day I would never forget.
And the children they played on regardless, unknowing. Innocent.
Weekend Quickie Sunday Edition 83 (87) - Allergic
(Superbowl halftime show, peanuts, allergic reaction to stadium seating.150 words)
I held onto her hand, the machine breathing for her.
"I'm sorry, I thought it was the peanuts," I whimpered, looking over her face for some sign of consciousness. "I shouldn't have dragged you to the Super Bowl, but hey, it was a chance of a lifetime to bag those tickets. We had to go! How...How was I to know?"
Okay, she had a little eczema when she put on that special lingerie I bought her for our anniversary, but nothing like this. It started with a rash, then a little cough, though by the halftime show, she'd collapsed in the aisle, trying to escape. Give them credit, the medics knew exactly what to do.
"How was I to know? Polyamide? Polyamide? It's a damn plastic! How was I to know you'd have an allergic reaction to the stadium seating?" I sobbed as the ambulance rushed through the traffic.
101 - Brothers
(Venice Frozen (see image below), a lame llama, straight jacket, a thumb match to settle a grudge)
"Today's the day, my brother! Ha-ha!"
Antonio straightened his shirt in the mirror, ready for his private gondola ride with the wonderful Maria.
"Ah, you paddle like a lame llama on a Peruvian expedition!" grimaced his brother.
"You are only jealous, Francesco, that I, your brother, have the chance tonight to bed such a sweet thing as Maria," he grinned.
"It is I who should have that honour! It is I who should be with Maria tonight!"
"When Venice freezes over!" laughed Antonio.
"I should have been the one, my little brother Antonio! I spotted her first, among the crowds in Piazza San Marco, her raven black hair swishing across her shoulders, her full bosom bouncing under that skin tight red dress! It should have been me! But you tricked me!"
Their grandmother cackled in the corner, her frail little body shaking. "Full bosom? She is nothing but a rake! She will be like skin on your stick, Antonio."
"Grandmama! How can you say such a thing! She is the most beautiful creature I ever did see!"
The room filled with the family, their younger sisters ran in and took seats at the table for dinner, while their mother brought in a large bowl of steaming hot pasta.
"You boys! Your Grandma is right! There is nothing to her. Why you both fight over her, I shall never know. I will call the doctor and he will send over those men in white suits and they will each give you a straightjacket!"
"Mama!"
"I will fight you for the right!" shouted Francesco.
"Boys! Enough! I shall not have you fighting in my house! Come, sit down and eat dinner," pleaded their mother. Without losing eye contact, they both sat down to eat.
"Fantastic pasta, Mama," smiled Antonio.
"I will fight you," murmered Francesco with a full mouth of pasta and sauce. Antonio stood up, chair screeching backwards and pointed his finger towards his brother.
"You can try, Francesco! But you are no match for me!"
"Boys!"
Francesco got up and they moved away from the table, each creating space to fight.
"Please, boys, no fighting!"
"Go on, let them lose some steam," wheezed their Grandma.
They stood face to face, sleeves rolled up, ready. Sweat poured down their foreheads as they stared each other out.
"We shall see, Antonio, who is the best!"
The grudge match began. Antonio made the first move, swinging to the left, trying to catch his brother from the outside, but he was too slow as Francesco dodged up and out. The opening gave his brother a chance but as Francesco clutched onto him, he was able to slip away, and Francesco found himself under, trapped. The thumb match was over.
"Ah-ha! See! I am the better man!"
"It is only because you helped Mama with the salad at lunchtime."
"Olive oil is good for you, no, brother? Ha-ha!" laughed Antonio, as he waved goodnight to his steaming brother, left at the table with his siblings.
Weekend Quickie #84 (88) - Perspective
(A loser, an old license plate, a figure 8. 150 words.Genre: Fantasy)
The bell on the teashop door rang loud and clear as the ragged dusty man staggered in.
"Behold, the Shield of Maja Ohisten
!" screamed the crazy.
Betty and Judith looked on, teas in midair, at the old license plate the loser held over his head.
"Oh, Bert, I wish you wouldn't come in here with any old junk," pleaded Betty.
"Junk? Junk? This is the Sacred Shield of?!"
"It's a license plate from a 1968 Chevrolet Nova, Bert. Take it away and go and wash yourself in the river," interrupted Judith. The old loser nodded and left.
"Oh, the things he brings in," chuckled Betty.
"Yes, he's completely off his trolley, that one, he lives in his very own little fantasy world."
"Would you like some more biscuits, Judith?" asked Betty.
"Don't mind if I do."
Betty took out her wand and with a figure 8 movement, more confectionary appeared.
Weekend Quickie #85 (89) Sunday Edition - Love is like the wind
(Barbed wire, a cat in heat, sled riding, a broken down zamboni. 200 words. Genre: romance)
We spent a wonderfully frivolous afternoon of laughter and joy up on the hill, sled riding down the slopes, filling our boots with slush and frozen ice. The snow continued to fall as dusk appeared and we made our way back to town. He was a dream, he was my Romeo to my Juliet, my Anthony to my Cleopatra. As we sat and held each other by the broken down zamboni near the disused ice rink, he whispered many sweet nothings and promised the world. He was to become a major player in the automatic coffee machine vending machine industry and I was to be the loving wife, the home provider and caring mother to our many children. We would spend our holidays in exotic and exciting places, would sail across the world, walk the Great Wall of China, visit the Aztec city of Tenochtitlan and fly over the Nazca lines of southern Peru, trying to spot that damn Greenpeace graffiti. I was in love, he was the one. He took out his guitar and began to sing like a cat in heat frantically trying to escape the clutches of barbed wire.
I wondered if I still had Steve's number...
102 - How much is enough?
(An event that changes a character's personality, a measuring tape, Tetherball, haggis)
"We're having haggis tonight!" His mother was in the kitchen again, cooking away.