Wordle #150 – ‘Slubber’ Overkill.

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This week’s words: Find Out 100 Yards  Slubber (to perform hastily or carelessly)  Rarefied  Slip  North  Buy  Shoes  Kill  Saturday  Brag  Rule

It was only a matter of time before the world found out about Paul ‘Slubber’ Overkill. ‘Slubber’ was a win at all costs sort of guy. The result was some very careless attempts at world records or should I say dodgy attempts.

He liked to brag about his exploits, like the day he ran a record time for the 100 Yards even though it was all downhill with a breeze behind him he still claimed a record.

“Slubber’ lived in the rarefied atmosphere of pretending to believe anything that made him look good in his own eyes. Some people said he could have been President with an attitude like that. But unfortunately, he was just too smart.

One Saturday morning he slipped into his car and headed North to buy new shoes, not just any shoes but shoes that would not only make him look good but would also allow him to break every rule of competition.

‘Slubber’ wasn’t one to be encumbered by rules. He bragged about his propensity to get around regulation. The shoes he purchased were silver crossed with dynamic rubber soles ensuring an improved performance.

He wore them the next day and finished last in a race he thought he would have won if the shoes had not melted in the hot sun and stuck to the running track. Later it was pointed out he needed to read the fine print on his new shoes as it revealed the shoes were not suitable for days of high heat.

‘Slubber’ Overkill was never deterred and lined up for the next race, as determined as ever to show his skills.

 

Written for: https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2019/09/16/wordle-150/

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Sunday Writing Prompt “The Warehouse” – For $1000.

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The sign said: ‘$1000 for three minutes.

Are you brave enough to go in the cage?’

My mate Carson looked at the sign then at me and said: “You should give that a go. Think what we could do with $1000.”

After that, there was a whole lot of jostling, bravado and after a few drinks a promise to give it a go.

We arrived at the Warehouse, there was a crowd outside all lining up to go in and to one side was a window where you could sign up.

Carson took my arm and led me over to the window, he gave my name, and the lady behind the counter looked at both of us and shook her head. I think in hindsight she could see well in advance what was going to happen.

“I wonder who I have to go up against?” I asked.

Just then there was a roar, and the lights lit up on the far side of the building, and a shrouded figure emerged and made its way to the ring.

The figure entered the ring and let out a gigantic roar. It was at this stage that I questioned the wisdom of what we thought was a good idea. Did we really need that $1000?

I’m not sure the thing in the ring was human or not.

No doubt at one stage of its life it had been a baby and one I hoped a mother had loved. It certainly wasn’t showing any love at that moment.

They introduced the creature as Igor, from the mountains of Siberia. The first encounter resulted in Igor throwing his opponent into the fourth row of the crowd. It was clear as the afternoon went on that none of us were going to be any sort of match to him. The guy was too big and too strong.

My memory of entering the ring is clouded nowadays. I remember Carson pushing me forward, I remember climbing into the ring, I remember looking up into Igor’s eyes and for a fleeting second seeing a touch of humanity, but after that nothing.

Carson said I put up a fair fight, I dodged, I weaved, I stepped back and forward and then I like everyone else flew through the air. Carson said he was impressed that I landed in the tenth row. All this he recounted later took all of ten seconds.

The bruises have all but healed now, but I have to say I shudder every time I see an add on the TV for cage fighting. There’s something in the back of my mind that wants to stay there come what may.

 

Written for: https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2019/09/15/sunday-writing-prompt-the-cage/

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Fun Challenge #2

Just for fun, no pressure😄 Provide a pic of your refrigerator front. As you can see, I’m no photographer, this is just a “get to know you better”.

MIne below is a mix of my grandson’s colouring-in, he is into super heroes. A wedding invitation and several calling cards and appointments. Not always inspiring I know, but the small boy on the fridge is my grandson Joey, now aged 6, so I must update the fridge I’m thinking.

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For: https://rugby843.blog/2019/09/14/fun-challenge-2

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September 12: Flash Fiction Challenge – Her Greatest Gift.

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Her greatest gift was acceptance.

I was far from perfect, in fact, I was more flaws than anything else, but she saw through all that and took me for the man I was.

For me, it was freeing, knowing I could be myself, mindful of my flaws and aware of addressing issues when they arose.

We enjoyed each other’s company; I felt relaxed, not on guard against putting my foot in it when my mouth took over my brain.

She’d smile, hold my hand, her eyes focused on me and ask if I realized what I had just said.

 

Written for: https://carrotranch.com/2019/09/13/september-12-flash-fiction-challenge/

 

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First Line Friday: September 13th, 2019 – The Thirteenth Floor Jungle.

The elevator stopped on the thirteenth floor with a lurch. 

His first thought was that it was odd the lift should stop at this point, as he knew the building had no thirteenth floor.

The lurch had woken him from a daydream in which he imagined the girl on the eighteenth floor, Maggie Ross, greeted him in recognition. There was no reason she should, after all, he’d rarely visited the eighteenth floor.

But now he had been jolted awake, and as the doors opened, he took in a sight he wasn’t prepared for.

Ahead of him was a sign, ‘Welcome to Jungle World’ and beyond that stretched as far as he could see was a tropical rainforest.

A voice in the lift urged him to disembark telling him the lift was terminating. As he stepped out the doors closed behind him and he was immediately confronted by the sounds of a jungle eco-system, bird calls, the repetition of insects, the distant growls of carnivorous creatures looking for a feed.

Turning around the lift had completely disappeared and behind him was impenetrable undergrowth.

“Good morning,” said a voice near his knee, “ new, here are we?”

Looking around, he couldn’t see anything other than a large python hanging from a tree, which he was sure, was not there previously.

“I’m sorry,” he said, looking around, “but I can’t see you.”

“I’m just hanging around you might say,” replied the voice which he now noted had a slight lisp to it.

“Where?”

“Right here.”

Suddenly in his face was the snake; its tongue flicking out almost touching the man’s lips.

“You? You can speak?”

“Of course, we are somewhat couth around here, I could have simply wrapped myself around you in greeting, but that might not have appeared friendly at all,” said the snake whose name as it turned out was Leo.

“What have I gotten myself into?” thought the man. “I must be dreaming.”

“No, I’m real,” said Leo beginning to feel he was not being taken seriously, “we get a few of your lot in here from time to time. The thirteenth-floor jungle is what we call ourselves, has everything you’d want in a tropical jungle.”

“But how do I get out?” wailed the man.

“Oh, you don’t. The point is you’ll wander around and become dinner for one of the big cats. There’s nothing to worry about its all very kosher.”

“But I don’t want to be dinner for anyone.”

“Well who does, tell that to the mice I plan to have for my dinner, but it’s the law of the jungle you might say.”

Just then there was a roar, and a tiger poked its head out of the undergrowth and growled at the man.

“I’d run if I were you,” said Leo, “Ralph is very dogged in his pursuits. Morning Ralph, just telling the man here he’d best make a run for it.”

“More fun if they do,” mentioned Ralph as he lunged forward in pursuit of the quickly disappearing man.

“Oh was that another lurch,” thought Leo, “gonna be a busy day.”

 

Written for: https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2019/09/13/first-line-friday-september-13th-2019/

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Tale Weaver – #240 – Wading – 12th September – Drama

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From the moment he arrived it appeared he had no fear.

The teachers didn’t intimidate him like they did the rest of us.

He had about him a bravado that was sure to bring him grief.

But he showed no trepidation, as he waded into the class, guns blazing as they say.

It was clear he didn’t want to be there,

His attitude was one of defiance, he took his seat and that’s all he did,

Lessons were not for him, disruption and play was more to his liking,

In each class he gave the teacher equal billing,

Questioned their commands, refused to cooperate,

Homework was what everyone else did, never him,

Detention was a mere inconvenience.

There was one subject in which he showed interest

Drama

He loved the play-acting, the games, the imagining he could be someone else.

The school play came around and he auditioned and was given a leading role

Embracing the situation he made the play sing for him

If only, said his teachers, he could wade into their subjects like he did with drama.

He was a smart kid, he knew what he liked, he had no tolerance for fools, either sitting with him or standing in front of him,

Why waste time on that which didn’t hold meaning.

 

Written for: https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2019/09/12/tale-weaver-240-wading-12th-september/

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Crimson’s Creative Challenge #44 – Hinton

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On one of our walks Crisp, my aged companion, saw reason to reminisce about her childhood.

A locomotive rolled past us, and Crisp stopped and stared at the writing on the side of the engine.

“I used to visit Hinton as a kid,” she said, “it was a tiny farming community a few miles from home, and on a fine day my friend OB and I would cycle out there and sit by the river.”

She paused for a moment, then went on. “When there was a flood the town was always in trouble, roads would be closed, and farmers would fear crop and stock loss. We kids thought it great fun to scoop up water melons from the flood waters never giving a thought to any disease they may have attracted.”

“Those were the days,” she said as the train rumbled out of sight.

 

Written for: https://crispinakemp.com/2019/09/11/crimsons-creative-challenge-44/

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