Here is a sampling of some of my favorite entries from contests around the web, and some of the nifty trophies I’ve collected. Blog post on where you can find my normal stomping grounds here.
100 words or less “Dissemble”
I don’t know why I keep taking these shitty jobs. I’m really better than this. CIA pension, my ass.
Look at them.
A trained assassin standing 10 feet away and they don’t have any clue that they’re about to die. If Jeffrey gets into Harvard, I’ll have to double these gigs next year. $40,000 a year. Who do I have to kill up there to get a fucking tuition discount? I swear I’ll do it. One name is all I need.
“Would you care for some champagne, Mr. and Mrs. Jones?”
There’s barely any poison in it.
100 words or less “Bellwether”
[My sincere apologies Madam.]
The Inter-dimensional Energy-being spoke in perfect Queen’s English. Even the accent was spot on.
[Would you still like a positive bellwether for the children's exams tomorrow?]
“Of course I would.” She sounded exasperated. “Look, just because you folk can alter probabilities don’t give you the right to go ’round lightin’ up the place with bloody plasma at 2 o’clock in the morning.” She shook her finger at the Hotel Manager.
“Honestly, do you immigrants not understand common courtesy?”
100 words max: must include all 5 words (Octagon, slice, bones, beard, panache)
Elizabeth lay naked in the middle of the octagon of inlaid silver, chained and ready to be sacrificed.
“Let me go you fucking maniac!” She cried.
It was nearing midnight. Time was growing short.
“I apologize for abbreviating the ceremony, my lady. I usually complete the rite with flair, a little panache even. But your attempted escape has put me behind schedule.” Aleric stroked his beard and selected the wicked blade from his tray.
Elizabeth’s screams filled the dungeon as each slice of the Aecheon blade exposed her bones to the air.
“Now, we wait for the demon.” Aleric smiled.
100 word max: must include all five words (station, crossed, humble, tooth, Special: hover)
“Do you mind?” Dr. Cula felt Father Damien hover about his left shoulder.
“Sorry,” Father Damien whispered. “Just a little nervous is all.” The humble priest crossed himself one more time. The protections were bordering on obsessive really.
“Could you please just station yourself over there Father? You’re not helping any by being in my light.” Arthur snipped. “Priests…” He muttered under his garlic laced breath.
“OK, Mr. LeStat, I’m going to drill now. You’re going to feel some pressure on this fang… um… tooth.”
Arthur started the drill and wondered what the world feared more, vampires or root canals?
Must use “didn’t see (your choice of word or phrase) coming” and the word or concept “borophagus” with picture prompt.
“So there I am, about to take off the mask, and the chick is like ‘No, leave it on. I wanna do it with Guy Fawkes’.” Derrick’s raucous laugh carried into the woods surrounding the train trestle. “That was an epic Halloween party.”
The two paleontologists walked along the tracks, gravel crunching underneath the well worn boots. A small day-glo orange flag was stuck in the ground off to the right side of the railroad tracks, marking the path to the excavation site.
“Who called in the tip? Derrick was curious.
“Dunno, it was anonymous,” Gary steered Derrick back to the story. “She was wearing a green sequin mask? Dressed as Tinkerbell?” Gary pried.
“Yeah… you should have seen her. Not the usual pieces of ass I date. I mean, she could have used more time in the gym. But perky little titties, and a tight round ass. Sexy.”
“But she was drunk, right?” Gary wanted to get the story straight.
“Oh, hell yes. She could barely get up the stairs to the bedroom. But I helped her out if you know what I mean.”
“What do you think on the species?”
“Tip said it was a dog skull so I’m guessing Borophagus.”
“Bone crusher. How appropriate.” Gary smirked.
Derrick took a right at the marker and walked in front of Gary into the woods.
“Did you have a good time at the party?” Derrick .
“Sorta. I got stuck talking the museum Director all night. But, did Tinkerbell have a good time?”
Derrick chuckled, “Yeah, she did. Seemed confused at first, but then I just sorta took charge. You know? Then she started screaming and I had to stuff Tink’s green panties in her mouth to keep her quiet.”
“Yeah, sounds like you had a good time.” Gary’s voice showed no hint of joviality.
“Come on, you don’t want to hear about some skank. Tell me about this site. Are we close?”
“We’re close. Very close.”
The paleontologists came through a line of trees and found a wide hole dug into the earth. Pale white bone fragments were peeking through the freshly disturbed earth.
Derrick knelt at the edge of the dig. Gary stood behind Derrick and lowered the heavy shovel. “I can’t believe you were dressed up as Guy Fawkes too. What are the odds?”
“Astronomical,” Gary swung the shovel against the top of Derrick’s spine. He felt a sick crunch as the 4th vertebrae broke into splinters, shredding the spinal cord.
Derrick toppled into the shallow earthen pit, wet gurgling sounds coming from his mouth. His eyes were wide, filled with shock and pain. His body was paralyzed.
“Didn’t see that coming, did you?” Gary smiled.
Gary took a pair of green panties from his pocket and shoved them into Derrick’s mouth. He walked to the side of the pit and started shoveling damp earth on top of Derrick’s helpless form.
“My wife says hi.” Gary spit on the whimpering dog. “Nobody fucks Tinkerbell but me.”
Must contain the phrase: “His name was Milo Scaggins.”
Best Friends FOREVER
“His name was Milo Scaggins,” said Milo Scaggins.
“Milo, are you seriously going to start with that nonsense again?” Raphael huffed over his venti mocha-soy-latte.
“I just… I want to hear it out loud how my story sounds. Ya’ know?” Milo stretched out his unnaturally long legs into the aisle of the coffee shop. His size-17 clod-hoppers disguised the cloven hooves underneath. He flicked a red-tinged fingernail at the barista and gave the young woman uterine cancer.
“Who is going to write a story about the least evil Arch-Devil of all time?” Raphael waved his hand and healed the redhead in Milo’s gaze. “And you should really talk to your father about changing your name. I mean… bloody awful.”
“He says it’s part of the ‘anger-building’ program. That’s why he’s always yelling at me too. Says I need to tap into my inner rage to really get EVIL. I think it just makes me more depressed, honestly.” Milo put two fingers together over his green tea and a fire magically started in the dumpster out back.
“You know, for a Devil, you’re really not a bad guy. If I wasn’t assigned to you, I’d hang out with you anyway.” A tiny tear ran from Raphael’s left eye and it began to rain outside. A compliment from a real live Angel. His father would be pissed.
“I’m evil Raph.”
“Sure you are, tough guy. Sure you are.” Raphael winked.
Milo smiled despite himself.
Must use “Blame it on __ “ and the phrase “Terminal moraine” – 200 words max.
Bubba and Cletus sat on the tailgate of the Ford pickup and laughed until they were in tears. The Wal-Mart parking lot was their favorite daytime hangout until Joe’s Beer and Bait Shop opened at noon.
“Who ever heard of a motorsicle with three wheels? I bet it goes round in circles.” Bubba laughed. “Man, that fool is going to get hisself killed.”
“That there’s what you call a terminal moraine.” Cletus said.
“Moraine? What the hellfire is a moraine?”
Cletus took of his faded John Deere cap and smacked Bubba over the head. “You idgit! Didn’t you never learn nothin? It’s a idiot. A nunskull. A nincompoot.”
“Oh. Why didn’t you say so?” Bubba looked suspiciously at Cletus. “Why you gotta use them 10 cent words on me, Cletus? I’m beginnin’ to suspect you’s one of them interlectuals.”
“Blame it on the educashun, Bubba. You get to 9th grade and you learn stuff. Really. Important. Stuff.”