

Dani's Shorts 3

(A collection of short stories based on the elements from The Iron Writer Challenge)

Volume 3

by

Dani J Caile

Smashwords Edition

PUBLISHED BY:

Dani J Caile on Smashwords

ISBN: 9781310966132

Dani's Shorts 3

Copyright © 2014 by Dani J Caile

Smashwords License Statement

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each reader. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Blog

<http://danijcaile.blogspot.hu/>

All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © Dani J Caile 2014

Table of Contents

Preface / Acknowledgement

First Annual 2014 Iron Blog Tour - Waiting for the Equinox

53 - The Fickle Generation

Duel 1 (Grudge 4) - Dora and the Invasion of the Flying Vampires

Dr. Seuss' Birthday Challenge - One Moose

Dr Suess' Birthday Challenge 2 - Oh, the wonderful things Mr. Orbán can do!

Weekend Quickie 24 - Second Thoughts

54 - BBC Surreal Satire at its worst

Weekend Quickie 25 - Mardi Gras balls

55 (Grudge 5) - Pimp my ride, Sonny!

Weekend Quickie 26 - The unexpected

56 - Hindsight

Flash in the Pan - Cerreda Medellin Blues - Jack Kerouac

Flash in the Pan – Palindrome ("I madam, I made radio! So I dared! Am I mad, am I?")

Weekend Quickie 27 - Mike's Omission

57 - Dennis is a bad boy

Flash in the Pan - tiny story based on 2 Shakespearean insults: "Ye Eater of Broken Meats!" and "Have fun, you embossed carbuncles!"

Daily Flash

Flash in the Pan - Describe a colour without using a colour word

Weekend Quickie 28 - Big Chief 'He ya ho'

58 (TIW Spring Open) – Lost

Weekend Quickie 29 - Quickie in a Quickie

59 - Slaughter

Weekend Quickie 30 - Carlos is dead

60 - (TIW Spring Open Final) - That 'punk' camera

Weekend Quickie 31 - Tracer

61 - No one's perfect

Weekend Quickie 32 - Each to their own

62 - Draughts on a Sunday afternoon with ol' Captain Joe Blues Eyes

Brian's Birthday Challenge - Jello!

Weekend Quickie 33 - Return to Oz

63 - Creep

The Goatee of Neal (Impromu Relay)

Weekend Quickie 34 - Just to see my face

64 (Annual Final) - Two my few chair auld err shelf

The Rotation (Impromtu relay)

Genre Mash Up Test 1

Weekend Quickie 35 - Little Red Shiny Jordan

65 - Oh, Elva!

Weekend Quickie 36 - Second base

66 (Grudge 6) - The Universe doesn't Care what You are

Genre Mash Up Test 2

Weekend Quickie 37 - When friends are your greatest enemies

67 - Whoops, there goes the neighbourhood

Weekend Quickie 38 - Oh, Nana!

68 - The Hole in the Wall

The Cat and the Monkey (Impromtu relay)

Weekend Quickie 39 - Let's make some money

69 - To Clip

Weekend Quickie 40 - No time

70 - For Better For Worse

Weekend Quickie 41 - Embarrassing

71 - (Summer Prelim) - Death of another Salesman

Weekend Quickie 42 - Misunderstood

72 - Team Building

Weekend Quickie 43 - Jump!

73 - (Summer Open Final) The Sun Rises In

The Iron Writer Party Line (Impromtu relay)

Weekend Quickie 44 - Joyce

74 - The Spirit of Aragorn

Weekend Quickie 45 - Oh, the thrill

75 - (Grudge 7) The whole world's a stage!

Weekend Quickie 46 - 5 Years later

76 - (Grudge 8) – Generation Gap

Weekend Quickie 47 - Protection

77 – Ted's Lucky Cap

Weekend Quickie 48 - The Fawn of Sertorius

78 – Twigs

Weekend Quickie 49 - Intriguing

List of elements

Other work by Dani J Caile

Preface / Acknowledgement

Wow, it's already Volume 3 of TIW shorts! The third collection of totally pointless exactly 500 Challenge and exactly 200 Weekend Quickie word nonsense (plus a few collaborations and extra TIW things) to entertain you while doing whatever you do when reading. For myself, it was a long and exciting half year in The Iron Writer. It has become a part of my life now, this TIW phenomenon, every week waiting for the next group of elements to hit the site and dwelling on the story which could link them all together in the style of my choice. It's thanks to this challenge that I can say I never suffer from writer's block - touch wood.

In this third volume, I have also included some collaborations and TIW 'experiments', such as the Genre Mash Up from Miranda Hawley and impromptu relays which mainly involve a new and highly talented young TIW writer, Mathew W. Weaver (<http://ramblingsandraving.blogspot.hu/>), complete in a suit of armour – he is the Iron Writer Protection Program, his identity is a secret. Other writers include Neal Sayatovich (<https://www.facebook.com/neal.sayatovich>), Jordan Bell (<http://jbfiction.blogspot.hu/>), and Tony Jaeger (<http://www.creativewritingtime.weebly.com/>). I'd like to thank these writers for writing their words and allowing me to publish them.

In mentioning, I also cut the 10 worder 4 element challenge story "He tutted as she stood there in a mini skirt." (Challenge 45) down to a 'zhong', a form made famous by Ernest Hemingway, "He tutted as she smiled, naked."

To finish, in Volume 2, I separated the Weekly Challenges from the Weekend Quickies though now I see that some continuity of ideas was lost and so everything in Volume 3 is in chronological order to show the development...if there was one.

I hope you enjoy these short snippets just as much as I enjoyed writing them, and thanks again to Brian and all the other Iron Writers for allowing me into their community...I wouldn't.

If you are 'up to the Challenge', then go to...

<http://theironwriter.com/>

First Annual 2014 Iron Blog Tour - Waiting for the Equinox

(iron, quill, birthday cake, 1 element from 1st challenge (changed to using 1 element from all 52 named challenges in order, except for Challenge 51 element 'no 'be' verbs' which is used throughout)

"Meteors outside." Tom lay his ruby red slippers over the failed superhero in the elevator and sat down on his favourite coconut opposite the family's 1880 vampire hunting kit.

"Wonderful, dear." His space monkey, Suzie, did her usual chore of cutting quills with her ginsu knives for the pregnant camel next door. They shared a smile and watched the gyroscope in the corner.

"What's on the water buffalo tonight, dear?"

"Same old, same old. Black lipstick, I think," replied Suzie, now jumping on her trampoline. The dead gypsy rested on his theremin, silent.

"Anything special for dinner?" Tom hung on the clothes line and took a bag of almonds from his own personal group of reference librarians he kept in a casket. Satisfied that the flashing neon lights on the ceiling had stopped due to the malfunctioning pole mounted electric transformer, he waved his semaphore flags and watched his pet trilobite crawl across the floor.

"Just the usual, dear. Birthday cake." Suzie paused in her jumping and tore the hand held lawn clippers from her thigh, replacing them with chopsticks. Tom banged on his 1951 Kaiser Drag'n and yodelled like Slim Whitman.

"Again? Why can't we have something else for a change! Like fried green tomatoes or banana slippers! Why do we always eat birthday cake?"

Suzie whipped her husband with a feather boa, knowing he'd love it.

"Did you have a bad day? Another fight with the live Griffin, dear? Would you like a cup of tea?"

"Oh, yes. Thank you, darling."

Suzie disappeared into their abandoned outhouse to make tea and look for the jar of bacon fat Tom so often admired. A particularly interesting dressed herring appeared on the buffalo's hind and caught Tom's attention.

"Suzie, quick! You've gotta see this!"

She came running in wearing a pair of fishnet stockings and a wooden hanger stuck on the back of her neck. They both lost interest as the Bionic Woman sailed by in a Roman merchant sailing vessel. Suzie sighed, ate the 2000 year old map of the Earth she'd saved for later and went back to making tea.

"Anything happen today, dear?" asked Tom, now fixing his motherboard with the aid of a voodoo witch doctor.

"No, dear." By the time Tom had finished saying 'supercalifragilisticexpialidocious', Suzie'd brought in his cup of tea and sewed it with needle and thread to the bug zapper on the side of Tom's coconut.

"Oh, I almost forgot, my latest victim." Braving the haboob trapped within his James Bond Mini Spy Kit he'd taken to work, Tom lifted out an iron ingot, shiny and wet. "Look what I found inside a toilet roll hat."

"Oh, what a muppet! And so cute!" She stroked its back and tickled its tummy.

"Some Harpy tried to drown it in the river. Good job I had my lucky Kiwi bird on me."

"Can we...keep it?" Suzie flashed her nostrils at Tom, knowing his weakness.

"Well...okay."

Suzie laughed and punched him out.

"Thank you, darling!"

53 - The Fickle Generation

(The Rotarua Hot Pools, the only lost book in the world, pearl brooch, floor wax)

They lay in a luxurious mud bath at Hell's Gate, one of the many hot pool spa resorts in the region of Rotarua. Sheila grumbled something but Bruce wasn't listening, he had his headphones on, relaxing on the other side, away from her. Watching her mouth move and her face becoming more animated, he took them off.

"This mud, it feels like floor wax."

"How would you know what floor wax feels like, Sheila, you've never lifted a duster in your life, let alone waxed a floor."

"You're so mean!"

She was a peach when he first met her, but now getting onto thirty she'd put on a bit of weight and let herself go a little. Bruce was about to go back to Midnight Oil paradise when Sheila started jumping up and down and screaming. What now?

"Where's my pearl brooch? It was on my top! Where is it?"

Bruce went closer to inspect her top, clearly nothing on it except mud.

"You should've taken it off before coming in here."

"We need to find it! Bruce! We need to find it!"

"What do you expect me to do, search for it in this hot pool of mud?"

"Yes!"

"Oh, come on, Sheila!"

"Look, I've already lost my copy of "Vernon God Little" by DBC Pierre! I don't want to lose something else! I loved that book, I'm not going to be able to get another around here. And that brooch, that brooch was a present from my mother! My mother! What am I going to say when I see her next?"

Bruce sneered and laid back to his side.

"Oh yeah, your "Vernon God Little", the only lost book in the world. When are ya gonna stop whinging about that one? And your mother? What you're gonna say? The truth, that you lost her brooch in a relaxing hot mud pool in northern New Zealand, that's all. What's the big deal?" He closed his eyes and listened to his music. It didn't take long for her to kick his feet in the mud.

"What?"

"Well?"

"Well what?"

"Find it!"

"Up yours." He closed his eyes once more.

"Bruce! How dare...! Oh!" He heard her leave the pool and traipse away back to their room, the mud on her feet squelching on the wooden deck.

"Good riddance."

Bruce didn't know that another girl had got in until his toe was touched.

"You back agai...?" He saw her, blonde, pretty, smiling. Forget the music, forget everything. "Hi."

"Hi."

"You staying at the hotel?"

"Yeah. You?"

"Yeah." Bruce felt the smooth accessory in the mud. "Hey, look what I found, nice, huh?" He showed her the pearl brooch.

"Mmm, nice, not really my thing, though."

Bruce thought for a moment.

"You into books?"

"Yeah! I specialised in literature at college."

"Cool." He moved over to her side, almost touching. "Into literature, huh? Ever read "Vernon God Little" by DBC Pierre?" He brought his muddy arm over her shoulder and she giggled.

Duel 1 (Grudge 4) - Dora and the Invasion of the Flying Vampires

(300 word limit, and 3 elements: parody of children's literature, Monster Movie title based on your name (mine DJC), and "la bala de plata")

Hola! I'm Dora and this is my friend, Gucci. Today we're going to my Uncle Vlad's birthday party on Monster Hill. I have some blood sausages as a present. His favourite! Delicioso!

Oh no! Swiper is trying to swipe the blood sausages! Let's stop Swiper! Say "Swiper, no manipulating the GDP and implying that the inflation rate is below 1% when it's clearly closer to 20." Thanks for helping us stop Swi...oh, he did it. Oh, well.

Now, how do we get to Uncle Vlad's castle on Monster Hill? Let's ask Map. Say "Ma...!" Map has gone, but what luck! Gucci has found a sign which says "This is the way to Monster Hill". Excelente! Vámonos!

We're at the foot of Monster Hill! And here is Isa the iguana! She is reading a book, 'Invasion of the Flying Vampires'. She looks worried. Isa is Spanish. To say "hello" to Isa, we say 'Hola'. Let's say 'Hola' to Isa. Hola, Isa. Oh dear, she ran away.

We made it to Uncle Vlad's castle! But look! There are some flying vampires circling above us in the sky! It's an invasion! Can you count how many there are? Let's count in Spanish! Uno, dos, tres, cuatro, cinco, seis! Six flying vampires! Can you see something in Backpack which can kill them? Yes, that's right! Silver bullets! To say "the silver bullet" in Spanish, we say 'la bala de plata'. Say "La bala de plata?". Yay! We did it! The flying vampires have flown away! Excelente!

Here's Uncle Vlad. He says thank you for the blood sausages, they are 'Delicioso!'. He says we are just in time for the start of his birthday party! Thank you for helping us get to Uncle Vlad's party and stopping the invasion of flying vampires! We did it!

Dr. Seuss' Birthday Challenge - One Moose

(200-500 word limit, written in the style of Dr. Seuss)

One moose, two moose, fat moose, thin moose.

Some are very small, while others seem quite tall. Oh, let's have a ball!

Some are old, and some are bold. Some have colds and some have mould.

Why do some have colds and mould? I guess it won't be told.

Some are happy, some are snappy. This one has a little nappy.

Here are some who like to chat, here are some who like big hats.

Here are some who like to scat, here are some who have pet rats.

Some have great clothes, others have big toes.

Some like to compose, others, well, who knows?

Some are funny, some have money, some like little furry bunnies.

Some have short tails, some have long nails, some like swimming with the blue whales.

This one's name is Tom, he loves to take his Mom to go and see the Prom.

This one's name is Fred, he loves his comfy bed to rest his weary head.

Why does Fred love his bed? I guess because it's cherry red.

None of them is like the other, they all grew up with diff'rent mothers.

So come along and see the moose, but don't forget the orange juice.

(Illustration: Dani J Caile)

Dr Suess' Birthday Challenge 2 - Oh, the wonderful things Mr. Orbán can do!

Oh, the wonderful things

Mr Orbán can do!

He can build a new stadium,

Giving money to the few.

Mr Orbán can do it.

But what about you?

He can bad mouth anyone

Mr Orbán can lie.

How about you?

Can you lie lie lie?

He can take your pensions...

Ker-ching ker-ching

He can fix elections

Fling fling fling

He can censor shh shh

The news in a flash.

He can call the secret police...

Smash smash smash smash

He can sell the country to the Russians...

Trash trash trash

Shh shh

Smash smash smash smash

Trash trash trash

But what about you?

(Illustration: Dani J Caile)

Weekend Quickie 24 - Second Thoughts

(image - girl playing piano in 'room tornado', element - wolf, emotion - a change of heart)

She hammered the keys on the piano but the music never came. Her frustration grew, her heart beat dangerously fast. A knock at the door left her paralysed.

"Let me in, let me in!"

The wolf was at her door but she needed to practise, she had no time for interruptions.

"No, no, I won't let you in. I'm busy."

"Then I'll huff and I'll puff and I'll blow your house down!"

The windows flew open and the wolf blew with all his might, at first displacing only the sheet music from the piano, but pretty soon creating a small tornado which filled the room. Alice, for some reason still in her sleeping gown, desperately tried to reach the keys and play her piece while being pulled into the strong current swirling around her, sheet music hitting her face.

"What's the time, Mr. Wolf?"

"Time enough...to eat you!" The wolf jumped in through the window and pounced on her. She woke up with a start, sweat oozing from every pour. Looking at her clock, she saw that it was the morning.

"Mum! I've had a change of heart! I don't think I'll play 'Peter and the Wolf' for my recital!"

54 - BBC Surreal Satire at its worst

(Ensign Chekov, scrapbooking convention, airport security, watermelon)

Charley watched as the new arrivals landed and queued up for passport control. Unfortunately, he hadn't felt well for days and this was his first day back after a week of illness. After ducking down to take a glass of water, he came back up to see that the first arrival through was a 6' watermelon carrying a purple rucksack.

"Err...good day."

"Good day." The 6' watermelon passed Charley an EU passport.

"Is, err, is this your passport?" asked Charley, a little confused.

"Why, yes, it is. Anything wrong?" The watermelon scratched its head.

"Well..."

"I've just come back from a scrapbooking convention in Phoenix, Arizona, you know? Very enjoyable, very nice."

Scrapbooking convention? Sounded awful, a bunch of old girls with photos.

"Sir..." He called a watermelon sir? "This picture is not you."

"Sorry? What? Not me? What do you mean?"

"The picture in your passport doesn't match your present appearance." How could it?

"Of course it's me, who else could it be? That's my passport."

"Your passport?" Charley looked at him, shiny and clean, probably extraordinarily juicy inside.

"Yes, that's my passport and my picture!" The watermelon stamped its 'feet'. Charley scrutinised the picture more.

"But this picture looks like Walter Koenig, aka Ensign Chekov from the Original Star Trek Series. In fact, I'm sure this IS a photo of Walter Koenig, aka Ensign Chekov from the Original Star Trek Series cut out of a magazine." He showed it to the watermelon, holding it up against the inside of his glass cubicle.

"Oh yes, really, I do see a similarity of sorts..." confessed the watermelon.

"I'm afraid I'm going to have to call airport security." Charley moved to his intercom and went to hit the buttons but the watermelon, now sweating, pushed itself against the cubicle.

"Look, you've gotta help me. There's a particularly unfriendly cuccumber back there I'm trying to get away from. I'm sure he's after me, I'm sure he's after my pips." Both Charley and the watermelon looked down the line, and there it was, a large 8' tall cuccumber waiting in the long queue, menacingly staring at them.

"Sir..." Again with the sir? "I'm trying to do my job here and if you have a grievience with any of your fellow passengers then please take it up with either them or your airline service supplier. My problem is that this picture is not you, it is Walter Koenig who played Ensign Chekov in the Original Star Trek Series, and not that there is an 8' tall cuccumber in the queue behind who is after your pips."

"Oh, alright, it's a fair cop, guv'nor. I got that picture at the convention."

"Thank you, sir. Now I'll just contact airport security and we..."

The watermelon was off, running across the hall of cubicles, looking for a way out of the terminal, bashing into people and falling over baggage.

"Not another watermelon, eh?" said Charley's colleague.

"Yeah. It's strange, you usually only see them at the weekends."

Weekend Quickie 25 - Mardi Gras balls

(image - Marie Laveau's House of Voodoo, element - Mardi Gras beads, emotion - curiousity)

"She just flashed her boobs, Jeff!" screamed Bob. He'd never been to Mardi Gras before, it was all a bit much for him.

"Yes, Bob. She did it for those Mardi Gras beads. Calm down, we don't wanna get any unwanted attention. Here." I passed him the bottle of Jack and he took another swig.

"Where are we, Jeff?"

The other guys whispered to get rid of him. I said they should go off, I'd catch up later.

"Bourbon street. That's probably why that girl got away with it. If she'd done it in the Garden District the cops would've got 'er."

"I want some beads, Jeff. I want some!"

With drink in him, Bob's IQ had gone down about 60 points. Never again.

"Look! 'Marie Laveau's House of Voodoo'! They'll have some beads!"

"No, Bob, they only have trinkets and voodoo..."

"Yeah, but I'm curious!"

"Bob, you get beads from the floats, they throw them at you when they pass. I've heard, though, that if a guy is brave enough to flash..."

His trousers were down, showing both his crown jewels and knobbly knees. It took the cops five seconds to arrest him.

"Bye, Bob."

"Jeff? Hey, Jeff! Jeff!"

55 (Grudge 5) - Pimp my ride, Sonny!

(coyote, snow plow, 1936 Chevy Corvette, the Zombie Apocalypse)

The TV blazed on, loud and strong, repeating the same report over and over again.

"Grandpa! Can you shut it off? There's nothing new! They'll keep repeating that thing until their power's gone! And you're wasting our electricity!"

"Eh?"

Grandpa had run out of batteries for his hearing aid days ago and kept turning the TV on for more news about the situation. The generator had a few more days in it so he couldn't feel the change, this zombie 'apocalyse'. My parents had sent me here to Grandpa's place, a remote house outside of town, as soon as it began. I hadn't heard from them for a fortnight, I suspected the worst.

"What's that, sonny? The TV's too loud!"

"Turn it off!" I ran upstairs and switched it off. "Grandpa, they can hear us, okay?"

"Eh? Who's that, sonny?" He shuffled over to the TV in his comfy slippers, ready to put it back on.

"The zombies, Grandpa!" I spotted one climbing over the fence and took Grandpa's pump action shotgun, opened the window and aimed. Headshot. Then I saw them.

"Grandpa! Err...I think we've gotta get out of here!" A handful of cartridges weren't enough to stop what was walking down the road towards us.

"Eh? Oh, visitors, and so many!" Nothing wrong with his eyesight. "Gimme that." He grabbed the shotgun and took out one more. "Ah, I've still got it. Sonny? Let's go."

It took ten minutes to get to the garage door. Grandpa stopped.

"Grandpa?" Another came close. Headshot.

"Shhh, I'm peeing."

"Grandpa!"

"Okay, okay, sonny." He opened the door to reveal his old snow plow, unused for over 20 years.

"What the...? Grandpa! That thing doesn't run!"

"Ah, but this one does." He shuffled further back into the garage and there it was, a small red sports car.

"What's that, Grandpa?" Headshot. Five more cartridges.

"A 1936 Chevy Corvette." We jumped into the two seater.

"1936? Isn't that a bit old, Grandpa?"

"Yes. They only started making them in 1953."

"What?" Four.

"This is a 'hybrid', sonny. Back in 1936, me and my guys took a Coupe and suped it up with a 1933 Bugatti Grand Prix engine we 'borrowed' and brought over to the US. My, was that Fitzroy Somerset angry!" Grandpa laughed and hit the pedal, crushing two zombies under the wheels as we left. We headed out towards his fishing hut at the lake, hidden on an island.

"Are you telling me you 'pimped' an old Chevy Coupe?" It ran superbly.

"Pimp my ride, sonny!" He pushed the pedal down and we flew through the bends. In a few moments we arrived at the lake.

"Wow, Grandpa, that was...!" His body lay slumped on the dashboard. "Thanks, Grandpa." He'd given his last to save me. I laid him back into his seat.

While rowing across to the island, I glanced over to my new home. On the bank stood a lone coyote, watching intently.

"Just you and me now, ol' buddy."

Weekend Quickie 26 - The unexpected

(image - meteor/comet over Stonehenge at night, element - a message in a bottle, emotion - intrigue)

Driving down the A303 at night, trying to get back to London after a rainy two week holiday in Torquay, Susan spotted what we'd missed on the way there.

"Look, Daddy! I can see it on the horizon, as plain as day!"

"Susan, it's nighttime."

"You know what I mean."

As my wife slept in the passenger seat, Susan and myself admired the view of Stonehenge as we drove by. Once I'd put my eyes back on the road, Susan shook my shoulders.

"What?"

"Stop the car, Daddy."

"Not again, Susan. Can't you hold it until we get home?"

"No, not that. Look."

I parked the car in the nearest layby and turned back to see a green tailed meteor hurtling to the ground, only a few hundred metres away from the famous landmark. There was a flash of light to suggest an impact. Intrigued, I got out of the car and Susan followed. With no one watching, we jumped over the fence encircling Stonehenge and found the meteor's crater.

"Go on, Daddy."

I climbed into the hole and found something extraordinary resting in the earth at the bottom.

"Daddy? What is it?"

"Err, it's a message in a bottle..."

56 - Hindsight

(The Curse of the Hope Diamond, deflated beach ball, hyena, a holiday in the country you have never visited)

"And when we get back we're gonna have to plan the interior of the house, you know, the wallpaper in each room, the carpets and curtains, which piece of furniture goes where, and who uses it, where the TVs go and in which direction the bed faces, does it face the southeast as we originally planned or does it now face the southwest seeing as I read in a Feng Shui book that..."

Three days. That was already the end for me. The blonde hair, beautiful face, gorgeous body and huge healthy back account apparently wasn't enough for me.

"...oh, and did you see the waiter this morning? Oh, I could've screamed the way he was walking along and holding those glasses, I'm sure he must've been on medication or something the way he was doing that, oh he was..."

And that laugh that could cut through paper, like a female hyena in heat. The manager had come to our room with complaints from the other hotel guests.

"...and what about the, oh look, darling, the bloated whale in the swimming pool, just what does she think she looks like in that bikina, oh darling, if I ever looked like that be sure to shoot me, but I'm only speaking hyperphetically, of course, oh but look, her partner! Oh my, where did he buy those..."

Just like the curse of the Hope diamond, all hype and no substance. She shines like that large precious stone when you first meet her, but when time passes and you get to know her, the veneer erodes, leaving nothing but the feeling a deflated beach ball gives to a child playing near the sea.

"Tell me, what do you think? Beige or...no, no, it's definitely this colour, I must find a phone cover which matches this skirt, there's no question about it, and also one for my tablet,although I do like the faded Union Jack, that has to be my favourite of all time, that one, and..."

I'd agreed to a holiday in a country I'd never visited before and that was my first mistake, I guess, other than the one where I fell for her smile. The musical note earrings, tiny nose stud in one nostril and 2 cm long fake red nails should've told me to stay away, but I must've had one too many that night. And the next. Then her quick one liners slowly disappeared as we grew closer and closer, taken over by this constant verbal dross.

"Oh, imagine, I was at the Poodle Parlour getting Chichi's hair permed when I overheard someone say that she was having a 4 person jacuzzi installed and would Susan, that's Tracy's assistant, like to come over and try it out and I just had to mention that I'd already had an 8 person one installed the other week and that everyone was invited and that I could also show my collection of bath salts and lotions and..."

Shoot me, shoot me now.

Flash in the Pan - Cerreda Medellin Blues - Jack Kerouac

Even though I had a sister

I always played alone

just myself and me

Hunting in the corn

I tripped and hit my head

& got home late

Broke my toe while walking back

Crept inside and went to bed

And nothing more was said

Never ever looked

ahead

DANI IN THE SHADOWS

WAITING PATIENTLY

Flash in the Pan – Palindrome ("I madam, I made radio! So I dared! Am I mad, am I?")

"Is he alright, doctor? Is he?"

It was difficult to see how the poor man could be, what with the four iron wrapped around his head.

"I'm going to have to run a few tests, madam. Just when exactly did this happen?"

"After the swearing, before the ban," said the distressed wife.

"No, no, at what time did this happen?" The doctor shined a light into the patient's eyes.

"Oh, sorry, doctor, about three hours ago," stated the women, matter-of-factly.

"Three hours! Why the hell did it take you this long to get him here?" complained the doctor.

"Well, I didn't really notice..."

"Notice? He's wearing a golf club for a hat and you didn't notice?"

"Well, I noticed that, but..." She was interrupted by her inflicted husband.

"I madam, I made radio! So I dared! Am I mad, am I?"

"See? He never made much sense before but now..." apologized the wife.

"Ah-ha. He has 'palindromitus', a common misfortune on the golf course." The doctor stopped his examination and sat there thinking.

"So, doctor? What's your diagnosis?"

"I'll write up a prescription." He wrote down the usual commission based medicine and scribbled his signature down at the bottom of the paper.

"So, doctor, looks like my husband won't be playing golf for a while. Fancy a set of clubs, without the four iron, of course?" asked the wife.

"Golf? God! Yawn! Mad on Eve! No damn way! Dog flog!"

Weekend Quickie 27 - Mike's Omission

(image - woman sitting on bed with a bear, element - a handsome newspaperman's birthday, emotion - a feeling of anxiety brought on by the omission of a comma)

"Another job well done," smiled the handsome newspaperman as he stood up to get his coat. It was his birthday and all was well with the world. It had been a productive day, sharing out muffins in the morning to his colleagues, interviewing a famous local artist with the paper's smelly photographer Ted who'd almost got attacked by said artist's pet 6 foot grizzly bear when he'd bent over at an inopportune moment, handing the story in on time for the evening's print, sorting out the backlog of emails he'd amassed from neglect, and finally getting rid of that awful coffee stain from the edge of his computer's monitor. Now he could go home to his loving wife and fabulous children to celebrate with a slice of cake.

"Happy Birthday, Mike!" said Ted, handing him the paper's evening front broadsheet and laughing.

"Thanks, Ted." Mike's smile wavered as he noticed that the whole office was watching him, laughing. Turning the broadsheet over, he saw the wonderful photograph of the interviewed artist sitting on a bed with her bear, but his joy turned to anxiety once he read the headline. 'Local artist finds inspiration in stewing her bear and other pets'.

57 - Dennis is a bad boy

(24 miniature plastic dinosaurs of various kinds, vegamite, Outside Tire Motorcyle, sewing machine)

Dennis is a bad boy. I don't like him. But he spoils everything. Mummy says I should not blame someone else for the things I do. But he makes me. He is a bad boy. He is stronger than me. I know the things that he makes me do are wrong. I know they are not good for me or anyone. But I do them. He is my friend. Friends do not do things to hurt you. I got dinosaurs for one of my birthdays. He told me to eat them. The doctor told Mummy that he had never seen 24 miniature plastic dinosaurs of various kinds in one child before. I went to bed without dinner. Dennis told me it was okay to cry. He then told me how to use a sewing machine. It was fun. It was very loud. He said it was used to put hair together. He then told me to practise on Grandma. She was not happy. Mummy shouted a lot that day. I went to bed without dinner. Dennis told me that I can collect my tears in a jar. I put them under my bed to save them for later. But I did not like vegamite. Dennis said it was not a food. He said it was a paint. Mummy had given me it to paint the kitchen. I used a knife to spread it. It was easy to do. Mummy was not happy with my work. Mummy shouted some more. I was sent to bed again without dinner. I heard Mummy talk about a special place I can go. Dennis said it was a nice place. Dennis said I can make a lot of good friends there. Grandpa came to visit me yesterday. He is a funny little man. He made me laugh. Dennis liked him. Grandpa has a funny looking bicycle. He said it was an outside tyre motorcycle. He said it was valuable. I said it was red. He laughed. Dennis said Grandpa is bad. Dennis said Grandpa laughed at me. I like Grandpa. He is a funny man. He let me sit on his funny looking bicycle. Dennis said I should turn the key. I did. Grandpa was not happy. Dennis said to put my foot on a piece of metal. He then said to turn the handlebar. The bicycle moved very fast. I did not like it. Dennis loved it. He laughed a lot. I started to cry. I called for my Mummy. Grandpa ran after me. The bicycle fell over. Mummy shouted. She shouted a lot. Grandpa shouted too. Dennis laughed. Today I am in the special place. There are some nice people here. They like white clothes. They all have big smiles. There are some funny looking children here. Dennis said I will like it here. He said this is my new home. I like my new home. It has a lot of toys. Where has Dennis gone? I hope Mummy will come back soon.

Flash in the Pan - tiny story based on 2 Shakespearean insults: "Ye Eater of Broken Meats!" and "Have fun, you embossed carbuncles!"

Time for the kids' choice, where to spend the last few hours.

"McDonalds!" they said in unison.

"Great. Am I doing this one?" asked the ex.

"It's all yours."

Daily Flash

(5 minutes : Genre - Fantasy, Start with: Audra left her sword at home that day...

End with: ...and the world was safe once more.)

Audra left her sword at home that day knowing full well her life and the lives of her loved ones would be in dire need of her immense and talented swordsmanship while crossing the Forest of Dark Shadows and Creepy Crawlies. She did, however, take her eggwhisk. With kitchen utensil in hand, she boldly strode along the worn track leading between the trees. Three deer crossed her path, startled by something sinister and black racing towards her. It was a demon from the depths of Kazahpang! Audra held up her weapon of choice and whisked the demon back to the evil dimensions from whence it came before it had a chance to cut her down. She felt happy and began whistling, happily striding along to her Sunday cake baking class with her fellow Amazonian warriors. The sun shone down and the world was safe once more.

Flash in the Pan - Describe a colour without using a colour word

The tablecloth brought on the smell of freshly cut grass, and a healing calmness came over him.

Richard's envy sat like a gooseberry among peas in a pod.

They rushed through a flock of sheep like smoke up a chimney.

Weekend Quickie 28 - Big Chief 'He ya ho'

(image - El Rancho Motel and restaurant sign at night , element - an arrowhead, emotion - serendipity)

The arrowhead sticking out above the number 16 announced trouble. Detective Brad Shaw eased the motel room door open and crept into the darkness, carpet wet underfoot. No movement but the bathroom light flickering, door closed. He made out two bodies, one splayed out on the floor, the other hanging over the bed, motionless.

"We n'de ya ho, We n'de ya ho, We n'de ya, We n'de ya ho ho ho ho..."

Brad moved closer to the light, taking up a position behind a chair, gun pointing towards what he recognised as singing.

"Police! Come on out with your hands up!" Where was his backup, Lance?

"He ya ho, He ya ho, Ya ya ya!"

Brad's lumbering partner walked in with a burrito from the El Rancho's restaurant in one hand and his gun limp in the other.

"Whatta we got, partner?"

The bathroom door flew open, hinges splintering, light filling the room to reveal a large Native American, war paint and all, string taut and bow loaded.

"You gotta heap big angry chief!"

An arrow cut through Lance like butter and he fell, the burrito rolling over to the chair where Brad hid.

"Oh, what serendipity!" he exclaimed. "Chorizo!"

58 (TIW Spring Open) - Lost

(A Bridge on the edge of a cliff, a kitchen apron, fruit scented lotion, your favorite karaoke song.)

"Are you sure it's this way?" The wind blew Tom's kitchen apron into his face, saving him from the sight of a three hundred foot drop.

"Positive! Well, that's what that short slanty eyed bloke said back there at the crossing!"

"I didn't understand a word he said!"

"Me, neither." Brian inspected the bottle of fruit scented hand lotion he bought off the little dude. Three hundred rupees,that was about 3 dollars. Nice bottle, shame about the scent. "Though considering his choice in fruit..."

"What?" Tom's apron wrapped itself around his head and his footing slipped on the bridge hanging on the edge of a cliff.

"Nothing! Oh, when I woke up this morning, I didn't think we'd be on such an adventure!"

"What?"

"Nothing!"

"Look, I really think we should turn around and get back to the crossing. I'm sure we must've gone the wrong way, maybe even before that, too!"

"Nah, my GPS says this is the way!"

"You and your GPS! I remember you once put 'scenic route' in and we drove through streets littered with prostitutes!"

"It was fun!"

"With my wife and three children in the back?"

"There was that..." Brian poured some of the fruit scented lotion onto his hands. "Mmm, creamy. Smelly, but creamy. "But hey, if it wasn't for my GPS, we wouldn't've seen..."

"Don't bring that up! I was cleaning bird shit off my car for weeks! And that's another thing! I'm not happy where we parked!"

"What, between the yak and the small group of mountain goats?"

"Yes, and now come to think of it, I'm not sure whether I put the alarm on! Maybe I should go back!" Tom made a swing to turn around and both himself and Brian lost their balance and held onto the handrope for dear life. 'Maybe I won't go back just yet."

"Don't worry about it! I'm sure you did!"

Two planks creaked under the strain and broke off the bridge, tumbling down the side of the cliff to the ground. Brian started to sing.

"Do you have to?"

"What? Oh, now I've lost my place!" Brian restarted singing.

"Oh, hell, if it's not one thing, it's another..." Tom fought with the apron but the wind blew it straight back up over his head. "Brian!"

"What? Oh, I'll start again!" And so he did. Brian's singing didn't help Tom's concentration, as he held onto the rock, tentatively stepping ahead on a few loose wooden planks.

"Why the song, Brian? Like we haven't got enough..."

"I'm scared of heights! Singing soothes my nerves!"

Tom succeeded in unwrapping the apron from his head, only to catch a faceful of the crescendo in the chorus.

"What? 'Bohemian Rhapsody'?"

"It's my favourite karaoke song! Aren't you scared of heights?"

"No!"

His foot slipped once again and he held on for a moment to consider the next few metres.

"You're not scared of falling?"

"No! I'm scared of landing! Now, where the hell is this Tesco Express?"

Weekend Quickie 29 - Quickie in a Quickie

(image - plane docked on a pier on a beach, element - 5 Iron Writers, emotion - wanderlust)

"Where's Brian? He's got the keys to the plane," asked Jordan.

"He's probably busy with his grandchildren on Skype, he really misses them," replied Mamie.

"Yeah, I think it was a good idea we all banded together on this Gung-ho world trip, seeing as we're now all famous writers, but I sure do miss my family," said Michael.

They all agreed and drank their cocktails, watching the plane bob up and down.

"Are we in 'Castaway' or what?" laughed Jordan.

"More like 'Lost'," said DaVur. "Watch out for fast-moving invisible monsters...oh. No Equinox winners here."

"So, what do we do now?" asked Michael.

"Well, what are we?" questioned Mamie.

"Hot?"

"No, look, we're Iron Writers and it's Saturday, isn't it?"

"Hey, a Quickie!" screamed Jordan.

"You'll be lucky," remarked DaVur.

"We can write a Quickie! We need elements."

"A beach?"

"Good, now, what's here?"

"Other than that plane, us," said Jordan.

"5 Iron Writers, including Brian," stated DaVur.

"And now an emotion?"

"Boredom?"

"Terrible."

"How about 'the desire to travel about', like what we'd like to do now?" mentioned Michael.

"I think that's called 'wanderlust'."

"Perfect! Let's write!"

They sat drinking their cocktails, watching the plane bob up and down.

59 - Slaughter

(Whack a Mole Game, bag of Body Bags, theologian, atheist)

The shot rang out across the street.

"Another for the bag. How many is that?" asked Spike.

"Fifty seven. Only forty three more to fill." Headshot. "Forty two."

"Listen, Phillips?" Spike paused in his shooting. "Don't you think our orders were a bit strange?"

"Nope. The boss said, 'Here's a bag of body bags. Go fill 'em.' So that's what we're doing, right?"

"Don't you think this is all a bit...meaningless?"

"Meaningless? Dunno, but I'm sure getting a kick out of it, myself." Another shot, another bag filled.

"I'm an atheist, but even I'm starting to get a bad feeling about this."

"Atheist? I don't believe you. You're American, right?"

"Yeah, as much as an American can be American, I guess, yeah. Slovak on my mother's side, Pollak on my dad's."

"And you're an atheist?"

"Yep. There is no God. Baptised Roman Catholic, of course, but I ain't never been to church and never will. I mean, look at all this lot. If there was a God, don't you think He'd be trying to save them or something?" A shot to a leg. The poor woman dragged herself along in the sand. "Shit." Spike aimed and shot his latest victim through the head.

"Maybe they deserve this, who knows?"

"Yeah." A head popped out from behind a building and disappeared again. Spike aimed up the shot and fired through what was left of the wall. They heard the sound of a body slumping to the ground.

"Did you know that 95% of Americans are religious?"

"Why, thank you Einstein, I did not know that. Next you'll be telling me you're a priest." Spike's gun clicked empty as a boy dressed only in rags ran past their sights. Phillips caught him one in the chest while Spike reloaded.

"Funny you should say that, but my major in college was Theology."

"You went to college?"

"Didn't you?" Two in one shot. "Bingo!"

"Nah, I went straight into the army, me."

"Figures."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing." A dog ran down the street and Phillips sighed. Spike shot it.

"Fill the bags, he didn't say with what."

"True. Anyway, so I guess that makes me a theologist."

"Like I'm a dentist." Spike showed his gaping smile. Phillips was disgusted.

"Guy, get that seen to before I will."

"Ha!"

"So, as I was saying, I guess I'm a theologist, or theologian."

"And as a 'theologian', what do you say to this situation we, or shall we say, they, find themselves in?" Three shots in a row took out a group trying to make a break for it down the street.

"Well, I guess...how the hell do I know? It was a long time ago, college!" Phillips shot the same girl four times to rid himself of his anger. "And besides, I paid someone to write my thesis."

"Uh-huh. Right." Deserted, silence once again. "You know, this is kinda like a 'whack a mole' game, this." Spike took out another runner with one shot.

Weekend Quickie 30 - Carlos is dead

(image - Highway 2 sign, towards Tijuana, element - yellow scorpion, emotion \- indecision)

A yellow scorpion scurried across the bonnet of the pink Mazda2, embarrassed as I was to find itself within 100 miles of its presence. Trust me to borrow my wife's car on a day like this. I'd seen the shiny topped bearded man in glasses smoking in his convertible at the 2 mile mark into Tijuana on Highway 2 a moment ago and I parked in the nearest layby. Was that the dead body of Carlos I'd seen in the back seat? Adjusting the fluffy pink framed rearview mirror, I saw the car some way back at the junction. It sat there like some big beige monster ready to change my life. But for good or bad? I knew what Carlos had been up to and how he felt such a bigshot since getting connected, and I knew what he'd carried out of the trailer this morning. I'd warned him but now it was all too late. Should I do something? If I were in my Ford truck, there'd be a shotgun under the seat. In this car, the most lethal thing I'd find would be haircurlers. What now? A Toyota Tundra drove by with speed back towards the vehicle.

60 - (TIW Spring Open Final) - That 'punk' camera

(Steampunk Camera, A dried, pressed rose, A glass house, A conveyor Belt)

"This just can't be right," whispered Tracer to Amelie, his beloved sharp-shooting rifle. Lying in the immaculately-kept grass, he watched as yet another gardener moved from the main building to a glass house in the centre of the lawn.

"It's just a garden?" Tracer took out his orders and read them again to make sure he was in the right place. He was. Looking through Amelie's sights, he watched as this latest gardener opened the glass door and disappeared. This place was a simple garden of a rich man. There was, however, something not quite right.

"How many does that make, Amelie?" In the past hour, more than a dozen gardeners had gone into the large garden feature. Another started the journey.

"Okay, pay attention, something ain't right here, not right at all." Tracer concentrated his focus in Amelie's sights, noting every detail possible. Then he saw it. Without a sound, he took out the camera, already steamed up and ready to go, zoomed in for a closer view of the door and clicked. The camera lost some steam and its gears whirred as the film was moved onto the next shot. He hadn't seen it before, as it was a mere flick of the wrist, but now he recognised that each 'gardener', if they were at all, had a special security card they waved at a control panel next to the door. Too much security. Tracer put the camera away and readied Amelie with a sleeper round. The next 'gardener' dropped to the ground as the door opened, and Tracer made a run for it, with the door closing as he dragged the sleeping body into the glass house. He made sure the body was well hidden before moving on.

"Well, well, well." After traversing a few floors underground on a labyrinth of stairs, he stopped to wonder at the mass of conveyor belts below. This place was a factory, and not any old factory. This place was building weapons, such as the like Tracer had never seen before but had only heard about. He took out the camera once again and took a few shots. On the third picture, some people came into view below. They looked like they were inspecting the production. One of them, the man in front had a...metal hand...Frintz! Tracer had seen this man and his hand at work before, crushing a man's throat for the sin of dropping one of his precious albums of dried, pressed roses! The man was a paradox, a killer, a schizophrenic! One moment calm, quiet and restful, the next manic, crazy, a complete psycho. Tracer chanced another picture of the Frintz but had forgotten that this 'punk' camera was already steamed out. It whistled and whirred, rolling the film to the end.

"Shit." He looked down and all eyes were on him. Frintz pointed a metal finger towards him and half a dozen armed guards began running for the stairs. Tracer had only a few seconds to escape.

Weekend Quickie 31 - Tracer

(image - steampunk Zepplin, element - bacon, emotion - optimism)

Tracer aimed Amelie's sights on the nearest Zepplin's rope, one of three keeping the airship steady in the night sky. The dozen or so Zepplins lit up the area around the British camp, making any assault impossible without major losses.

"Tracer, y'er gonna bring d'em British pigs on us, y'are."

"Irish, you haven't got much confidence in my abilities."

"Nah, but optimism, yeah. If yer don' mind, I'll skedaddle back t'lines an' watch the fireworks back there. Gunnin' fer yer!"

Irish ran back, leaving Tracer alone. A slight breeze blew across no man's land and Tracer turned Amelie to the furthest left of the Zepplins. He aimed at a rope and fired. It cut and the airship rose almost imperceptibly at first. A few of the troops in the camp looked into the darkness. Tracer opened Amelie's breech and out popped the empty case. He placed in another bullet and fired, cutting through a second rope. The Zepplin slowly floated over the British camp. The troops were now in a panic, some due to the shoots, others due to the impending danger. Tracer's third bullet brought a lethal fireball down on the camp.

"There'll be some bacon tonight!", he laughed.

61 - No one's perfect

(lace shawl, revolving doors, image of a fire-eater on a beach at night, duct tape)

"So, what happened to Stanley?"

"Who?" Tracy pouted her lips in the mirror, making sure the lipstick was perfect.

Her eyeliner, however, needed touching up.

"Stanley, Stanley Kundricks, you know, last time I saw you, when was it...?"

"Almost a year ago, Brigitte, almost a year, right after my last birthday."

Brigitte and herself were going out on the town, have a few drinks, do a little

dancing, maybe get lucky. With those eyebrows, Brigitte would have to be very

lucky...the lift up bra helped.

"Yeah, then." There was no regret in her voice that she'd ignored Tracy for so long,

but that was Brigitte, here today, gone tomorrow. "So?"

"Oh, that Stanley...no, it didn't work out, really."

"But he was fantastic, a great catch!"

"Yeah, well..."

"We double dated, I remember now. Ugh, I was with that Dave bloke, yuck."

"Ha! Yeah, I remember him. Those jeans..."

"We went to a restaurant together, and then..." Brigitte lay on the bed looking in

her pocket mirror making silent kisses in the air.

"...and then the beach." Tracy was almost done, she only had to sort her hair out.

And choose an outfit.

"Oh, yeah! There were a few performances, weren't there? A juggler, a fire-eater, he

was cute. I tried to get his attention but that Dave said we should walk the Quay

'in the moonligh'."

"Yes, but..."

"And that was so romantic, when Stanley bought you a lace shawl from that old

gypsy woman and you wore it as you guys strolled along the river. Dave tried to

get the better of me in one of the alleys but I gave him a kick in the balls. Stopped

him for a few minutes. Stanley just held your hand, so nice. I wish I could find

someone like that, so gentleman like, and not these tossers I always get."

"Yes, well..."

"So? What ever happened? Last time I saw you guys that night, after Dave tried it

on again, was when you disappeared through those revolving doors of that posh

hotel on the corner."

"Yes..."

"That Dave, had some money but no idea. Left him a few weeks later for a truck

driver. Ha, he was funny. Smelly but funny, and there was always the chance of

travel...and bacon."

"Yes..."

"So what happened? What happened with Stanley, Tracy? Any fireworks? Any

plans? Why aren't you guys married or something?"

"Well..."

"C'mon, what was it? Not enough money? Car not fast or flashy enough? Not so

manly in the downstairs department? What? What was it? What went wrong, huh,

Tracy?"

"Well...?"

"Lousy kisser?"

"No, I think it was when he wrapped duct tape around my mouth, tied me up and

threw me the trunk of his car, drove me to some desolate hut in the middle of the

woods and left me there to rot for six months."

"Oh, right." Brigitte went back to her pocket mirror and practised smiling.

"I think that was the clincher, really."

"Well, no one's perfect."

Weekend Quickie 32 - Each to their own

(image - bakery, element - coconut cake for Easter, emotion - inspired devotion)

He'd destroyed both morning batches of hot cross buns, upset his regular customers with unrepeatable remarks about Jesus, and also kicked out a wedge from their skip's wheels, allowing it to roll across the backyard and dent his van. This Darren had to go. If it wasn't for the fact he was marrying his daughter.

"I'm...I'm sorry, Dad."

"Dad? Dad! You ain't my Dad yet! It's 'boss' to you!"

"I've...I've made you a cake."

"Really?"

Darren put the cake down and cut out a slice, handing it to him. Cautiously, he took a bite and spat it out.

"What the hell is that?"

"It's...it's a coconut cake for Easter."

"Who the hell makes a coconut cake for Easter?"

"I do. My family does, it's an Easter tradition."

"What are you trying to do, poison me? I'm allergic to coconut!"

"What? Sorry, Dad...boss, I didn't..."

He stood up and grabbed his daughter's horsewhip she'd left on the table after her last visit to the bakery.

"What are you doing with that, Dad...boss?"

"You know, I feel I've just received 'inspired devotion'."

"Sorry, Dad? I mean, boss?"

"Us El Salvadorians also have our own Easter traditions!" He chased Darren out the back.

62 - Draughts on a Sunday afternoon with ol' Captain Joe Blues Eyes

(bunsen burner, ski lodge, cactus, bikini)

"The first time our eyes met was over a bunsen burner in the 12th grade Chemistry class. Well, 'meet' would be difficult. For all her homely blossoming beauty and her simple country charms, her left eye always went a little awry, and even more so when she ate or drank a hot drink. But when I saw her in that bikini in the summer down at the lake with her family, my heart...my heart was lost."

"Is this gonna be a long story? I'm only in 'ere for another twenty five years, if I can get out on good behaviour."

"Are you done?"

"Yeah. Sorry. Go on."

"It took me a while to convince her that I was the knight in shining armour she'd been looking for, but after kidnapping her best friends over the next weekend and torturing them to tell me her favourite hobbies and pastimes, and then of course leaving their bodies to rot in some desolate hut in the middle of the forest, I was ready to win her over. Fifty seven different types of cacti later, including a rare lava cactus I'd purchased on ebay for an extortionate price and she was mine. That was the one that clinched it. Plus the promise of a skiing holiday at the Engelberg Ski Lodge in the Alps next year. A very popular and exclusive place indeed. She was all over me. Loves skiing. I hate it, though I guess I'd better get some lessons."

"Skiing's great."

"Did I ask you?"

"No. Sorry."

"Can I continue?"

"Yeah, sure, sorry."

"Right. Where was I?"

"Skiing lessons?"

"Ah, yes, well, I only reached first base by the second week but when the local news got hold of the story about the disappearance of her friends, I was there to comfort her and pick up the spoils..."

"Hey, hey! Now you're talking!"

"Oi! This isn't some erotic daydream, you smuck!"

"I'm not Jewish."

"Never said you were. Anyway..."

"I'm Roman Catholic."

"Figures. The thing was...the thing was..."

"What was the thing?"

"Shut up! I'm getting to it!"

"Right. Sorry."

"The thing was, I'd left a jumper in the hut in the forest. You know, it gets a bit hot when you're torturing and all..."

"Yeah, don't it just."

"...and I'd taken this jumper off and left it on the floor next to the door. I didn't remember it at first but when the authorities started searching and clips of the forest appeared on television, it all came back to me."

"The jumper."

"Yes, the jumper. Man, did I sweat."

...

"So?"

"So what?"

"The jumper?"

"Ah, it was one of those Canadian lumberjack type pullovers, all red and black squares, nice and warm, good for the cold seasons. It was a wonderful jumper, I really missed it."

"Nah, did they find the jumper?"

"What do you think I'm doing in here? Popped in for a bit of draughts on a Sunday afternoon with ol' Captain Joe Blues Eyes in Block G?"

Brian's Birthday Challenge - Jello!

(50 words - heart-throb, airport pat down, Whitesnake lyrics)

"...There is trouble always coming my way..." Brian watched the over-sized 52-46-54 200lb Audrey Hepburn lookalike airport security guard walking over.

"We've got a right one 'ere, Madge!" shouted the guy doing Brian's pat down.

This would be the last TIW Conference Biran would set up....or maybe not...'Madge' had jello...

Weekend Quickie 33 - Return to Oz

(image - tornado, element - the far away sound of someone singing, emotion - denial)

By the time he'd run across the fields and into the yard, making the chickens scatter and squark, the tornado was but a few kilometers away and gaining.

"Aunty! Aunty! Tornado's a'coming!" Willy swung open the door of the farmhouse to see his Aunt smiling up at him from her favourite comfy armchair. "The Tornado's here, Aunty! We gotta get down in the cellar!"

He pulled on his Aunt Dorothy's woolly cardigan but she didn't budge.

"Damn and tarnation, Willy! Me and Toto, we been waiting for this one for a long time." The dotty old woman patted the head of her long-departed stuffed dog sitting beside her patiently. "See? I've got me ruby red slippers ready." She tapped them together, two worn out shoes that she'd somehow squeezed onto her old puffed up little feet.

"But Aunty! The tornado's coming! We gotta get ta safety!"

"Safety? What you riling about, Willy? We're goin' back to Oz, aren't we Toto?"

Her last pat knocked the dust-filled mutt over. Willy tried to grab her again but she held up her hands, listening to something far away.

"Oh, can you hear that, Willy? I can hear them, the Munchkins are singing."

"Aunty!"

63 - Creep

(cave etchings, wooden club, fur, best/worst pick up line ever)

"What's a good looking girl like you doing in a place like this?"

"Jesus, hell! What the...?" Sheila quickly pulled up her skirt and tights and ran out of the toilet cubicle, holding onto the sink for dear life. "What the hell are you doing in here? This is the women's!"

The man's head, which had popped out of the toilet seat so suddenly, slowly sunk back down, only to reappear as if by magic from the water tank a few moments later.

"Can you keep a secret? I'm a spy on a dangerous mission. I need your help."

"Mission or not, you definitely need some help! If you don't get out of here right now, I'm gonna call for the management!"

The man looked sad as he vanished once again, with his hand pulling on the flush chain. Sheila wondered whether she'd had too much to drink in the bar. This couldn't be happening. Her urge to go had disappeared as quickly as the man.

When she got back to her stool and saw that her glass was empty, that same head came into view, sliding across her sight.

"What the...! You again?"

"Hello. Sorry, but do I know you? You look very familiar."

"What do you want, creep?"

"Fancy a drink, darling?"

"Why the hell do you think I'm sitting in this bar?" The head slid back from whence it came. She looked around to check whether it was only her, and everything was as before, people chatting, some dancing, groups of friends having a good time. It was only her. She needed another drink and tried to get the attention of the barman who was nowhere to be seen. The man, this time cleaning a glass and dressed as a waiter, popped up from behind the bar, smiling.

"Hello. Would you like to come up to my place and see my cave etchings?"

"What? How...? Do you work here?"

"My! Is that a wooden club in my pocket or am I pleased to see you?"

"Yuck! Jesus, guy! Lay off me, will ya!"

He leaned even closer and wiggled his eyebrows.

"If I said you had a beautiful body, would you hold it against me?"

"Who the hell do you think you are? Manager! Manager! I demand to speak to the manager!"

The man submerged below the bar, still cleaning the glass.

"Where the hell is the manager?"

A man in a fancy black suit and tie walked up to her through the crowd, suave, extraordinaire. The light hit his face...it was the same man.

"What is going on here?" shouted Sheila.

"You know, I'd climb the highest mountain for you, swim the widest ocean, wrestle the strongest bear. I'd rip the fur off its back and make you a coat to be proud of."

Sheila didn't know whether to cry or scream. Tears began to form in the corners of her eyes, her mouth trembled as the words escaped her lips.

"Does that come with jello?"

The Goatee of Neal (Impromu Relay)

(Based on Neal Sayatovich's green dyed beard)

Co-written: Mathew W. Weaver

Dani J Caile

Neal loved his pet beard. It was the most loyal and warm of all his clumps of facial hair, and on cold wet morning walks it would save its master's chin from the perils of the northern winds.

Mathew W. Weaver

The relationship Neal shared with his goatee went beyond that of mere man and beard. It was a bond of unity, of brotherhood, of love beyond measure.

But neither could have seen how this bond was to be put to the test, when that fateful morning, Neal looked into the mirror to see the newly growing sproutlings of a pair of sideburns.

Dani J Caile

And there the dilemma began, a rivalry never seen before on the face of Neal. At first the sideburns were mere ornaments, emphasizing the manly contours of his broad face, but then they grew, unabated until they too became a major feature on Neal's facebook profile picture.

Mathew W. Weaver

Goatee began to feel it was being left out. All the facebook selfies Neal took now displayed the unabashed glory of those chunky sideburns... and yet never failed to heartlessly crop out the lower half of Goatee's dwindling majesty.

Dani J Caile

For a while, all was calm, one existing without the other, each reigning over their own territories of their master's domain, basking in their own prickily existence, until that one fateful day when their hairs intwined...

Mathew W. Weaver

...the day when Neal, while stroking Goatee, reached up and began to stroke The Sideburns as well. To Goatee, the abandonment was raw, undefinable. That its strokes were being usurped by stubble of much lower birth....

Dani J Caile

...and higher altitude. Goatee had no other choice but to summon the help of his dear old friend and patriot, Comb, to suppress and push down The Sideburns' audacity!

Mathew W. Weaver

But Comb, though literally a lifelong friend to Goatee, would not take its side. As despair, dismay and hurt grew, Goatee began to lose weight. It would wake up every morning feeling more brittle than the day before, and grew paler as the days passed.

Dani J Caile

It wasn't long before Goatee, once filled with life and vigor hitherto seen upon Neal's face, lost all hope and sadly turned into the bedraggled green mass of facial bristles that can now be witnessed on facebook.

Mathew W. Weaver

Remorse overcame The Sideburns. They never meant for Goatee to lose its lustre, shed its shine, turn into the patch of fungus that it resembled now. For the sake of Goatee, their stricken brethren, they decided to let go of life, to moult away and leave Neal's cheeks as soft and as baby's bottom smooth as they had been before the troubles began.

Weekend Quickie 34 - Just to see my face

(image - screaming couple with screaming baby, element - a tip from a waitress, emotion - distraction)

The other customers seemed a little distracted, even 'off' with me but I didn't care, I was glad to be there. The hustle and bustle of the restaurant was heaven compared to the chaos in the house, what with our new baby screaming 24/7 and the wife crying and pulling out her hair with worry. Stomach pains, that's what the doctor said. Happens to almost all babies nowadays. Great. But what about our pain? Neither of us had slept properly in weeks. I got lucky, had a business call and was able to pop out for this meeting. But that went pretty quick, too quick, in fact, like I was some leper or something. The guy took what he needed and left me with a plate-load of food. When the waitress came over she was a little too cocky, like she knew something.

"Here's your bill, sir," she smirked.

"Thanks." For that I left her less than the stipulated tip, which took that grin off her face.

"Why, thank you, sir, most generous."

"Anytime."

"You wanna tip, sir?"

"Sorry?"

"Next time, sir, check that suit doesn't have baby puke on the shoulder and a dirty nappy hanging from the pocket."

64 (Annual Final) - Two my few chair auld err shelf

(pet fairy, Acquired savant syndrome, letter to future self, as many homonyms as possible - extras - 1 element from each Preliminary Round and Open Final - incubus (incubi), kitchen apron, rhinestone tiara, victim, glass house, bagpipes, Atlantis, balloon animals)

Deer auld err shelf,

Ewe May knot bee ahh wear of dish fact butt aft her hay seer ear us head inn jury sum months ergo, ewe whirr die hag nosed ash having ahh Kwai erred savant sin Drome, tern inn ewe, awe mi two bee maw presize, inn two ahh gene ears arm mung gnaw mole men. Dish ahh loud mi two soul ver grey test of manse Miss tear Reese hand have Dee ahh Billy tree two hex plane any Conan drum awe die lemurs play stir bee four mi. Ewe wood have fought that dish was urghh give cent from Heaven, butt unfought tune nut Lee their ahh two May jar sighed arf hex. Dee thirst is that Dee dam midge left mi para lies duh, inn prismed inn err pie love Flash hand bones, un ehh bell two feed mi Drew ling Mao fur, clove my limp body ore why purr my own awe rei Fiss, hand second that eye yam ehh bell two sea bee yawned Dee use ewe all Hugh man die men shun hand inn two udder Hi err realms unknown two mi bee four now field with ghouls, mon stairs, inn queue buy hand udder strange hid ears creed chairs that wood make ball loon Annie malls Luke Kwai nor mole.

Hat dish mow meant, eye yam un ehh bell two right buy my own hand, eye yam act chew all Lee Dick dating dish let err two my own purse urn all pet ferry, who, ash eye have now orb served, Khan knot spell four sheet. Butt sea inn ash his favourite pass thyme is play inn Han inn stew meant witch resend bells Dee bag pipes inn sow end hand that he all wheys where's ehh stew pit Luke inn Kit shin ehh prawn with Dee werds "eye yam cleave fir" writ ten on Dee front hand ehh rhinestone tea are err on his head that he sir wears blind awe ridge inn ate id from Dee sub urged sit tea of Atlantis, eye think that dish is Dee leased of his war Reese.

Aft her living ehh shore ter wile with inn dish hex tend id vee ewe of Dee were auld, eye fee eel eye Khan knot go on. It is knot ahh pleasure twit Ness these fen Omm miner, it is err curse. Eye yam trapped inn sighed err glass how sir, err Vic Tim of fete, of sir come stances bee yawned my con troll. My vee ewe of reality has bean Shatnered hand eye can know longer go on dish whey. Eye must rei verse Dee stayed us eye find my shelf inn buy rei peet inn Dee pro sess witch brought mi two dish fire rei Hell. Eye yam sore rei.

Pea lease bee shore two sir round yaw bed with salt bee four go inn two sleep. Hand all wheys put yaw pants on back two front.

Yaws sin seer Lee,

Me (ewe)

The Rotation (Impromtu relay)

(Based on Jordan Bell's habit of rotating his Facebook profile pictures)

Co-written: Mathew W. Weaver with a guest appearance from Jordan Bell

[All in a Deep Orson Welles voice]

Dani J Caile

The Rotation was on. They wouldn't have a hope in hell chance of finding him now. They'd be as confused as a pig in a sweetshop. The red flare effect portrait had almost taken them off his scent but now he'd upped the stakes...cap with mug.

Mathew W. Weaver

The beard was shortened too; the mass of dense twisted growth shortened to the consistency of prickly hairbrush, the kind you always found yourself landing on when you fall on the couch. It was perfect. Or was it?

Dani J Caile

Would they see through his disguise? Would they entrap him as they had done once before, a victim of their excruciating mind control behind his mirrored glasses...

Mathew W. Weaver

No. Not by a long shot. He wouldn't let 'em take him again. Never again, he had sworn... but now, as he hunkered down in the booth, peering over his coffee mug, the bill of his baseball cap covering his eyes, he could see them, one at the bar and another by the door

Dani J Caile

In the time it took to eat his twinkie and down his coffee, they had swooped over him, each taking a shoulder and leaning into his own personal deodorant space, squeezing him deeper into the booth.

Mathew W. Weaver

"Hey, buddy," one whispered in his ear, shoving something hard in his side, "Long time no see." The other grinned, and patted the suspicious bulge under his coat.

Jordan Bell

You guys are f**king awesome. Lol.

Dani J Caile

"No, not now...why now?" He tried to run but they held him down, their hands like iron clamps. Despondant, he surrendered and slumped back into his seat. "Now, buddy..." The second slammed a pad on the table in front of him. "Get writing. We've been waiting long enough for that damn relay." The first handed him the pencil and he had no choice, no choice whatsoever. The Rotation had failed.

Mathew W. Weaver

Sweat started to drip down his face. Silently, he applauded himself for not taking the razor any closer; he knew that they smelled fear, and the beard masked that stench.

Dani J Caile

He dropped the pencil and pushed his feet, unseen below the laminated hardboard table, against the edge of the seat's supports. The second turned the pad to himself. "Hey, buddy. That ain't gonna make it. " At that moment, the door of the diner opened as a group of laughing business types entered, ready to order their usual apple pie and crumble.

Mathew W. Weaver

He kicked, and the seat collapsed. One of them pitched backwards with a surprised yelp, and before the other could react, he threw the mug along with rest of the chocolate milk at his face.

Then he was up and gone, pushing past the shocked customers and the wide eyed waitress.

The piece of paper, fluttering like a leaf in the wind, finally landed on the floor, face up to show to the world in general the words:

"Not today, pal."

Genre Mash Up Test 1

(4 elements, 6 genres in one story, 150 words per genre – elements - hammerhead shark, pinball machine, hot dog stand)

Genre 1 - Detective/Mystery

Over by the hotdog stand I had a clear view of the suspect in the arcade center playing on a beaten up old pinball machine which had seen better days. I'd followed him all the way from the harbour, his grey, shiny appearence and eyes which were set far apart gave him away as the one to watch. Although he was no Great White, this hammerhead shark matched the witness's description. This was the shark who had terrorised the neighbourhood one night before. It was time to make my move. Throwing the luke warm coffee and foul-tasting hotdog in the trash, I stepped over to the hammerhead. Unfortunately, what I hadn't foreseen was its ability to observe its surroundings with an almost 360 degree periphery. It spotted me as soon as I began to move and flip-flopped deeper into the arcade center, past the shooting games and racing car simulators.

Genre 2 - Sci-fi

Running into the arcade and through the dimly lit room, I was hit into a pusher game by some unseen force, sending coins cascading out onto the carpet.

"Stop! You!"

The hammerhead shark flipped around at the back searching for something. It had a plastic rifle from the nearest shooting game in its flipper and aimed it in my direction. What was it thinking? Suddenly, a beam of flashing blue light shot from its toy nuzzle. This was no ordinary arcade popgun. The beam missed my head by inches and melted the pinball machine the fiend was playing on only a moment ago. I ducked for cover and watched the shark sit itself comfortably into a spaceship simulator. A few moments later and the spaceship wrenched at its metal fastenings, the toy coming alive. It broke free, flying through the arcade center but instantly crashing into the hotdog stand outside.

Genre 3 - Gothic

A howling wind blew through the street as the hammerhead shark crawled out of the wreckage, stepping over mustard, ketchup and hotdog buns now scattered across the destroyed hotdog stand.

"You cannot stop the prophecy!" The hammerhead pulled the trigger on his plastic popgun and an intermittent blue flash spluttered forwards. Rolling for cover, I grabbed the backbox of the melted pinball machine and used it as a shield, only to hear an ominous sound come from behind me. Turning, I saw a strange arcade machine come to life, a magic wish machine, 'Zoltar Speaks'.

"I wish for the prophecy to come true!" shouted the hammerhead from the street. The machine whirred and plunked its gears. Lightning struck outside and thunder followed as rain fell relentlessly. A darkness filled the arcade center. I looked out but the hammerhead was nowhere to be seen.

"Your wish has come true!" spoke 'Zoltar'.

Genre 4 - Action Adventure

The rain petered out as I ran into the street with the pinball machine's backbox as a shield. The place was empty save for the demolished hotdog stand and a dozen or so weiners.

"It has begun!"

The hammerhead shark was back, but now he wasn't alone. It stood there with an army of six foot red lobsters, snapping their claws and flailing their antennae. I saw they thirsted for my blood.

"The prophecy has begun! We will rule the world! But first...kill him!"

The lobsters moved forward on their tailfans and soon there was nowhere to hide. The first clipped my ear and drew blood. With my shield in hand, I began to block, punch and kick my way through a five course meal. After many hard fought moments, I came out victorious, though bloody and beaten. I lifted my eyes to see the plastic popgun at point-blank range.

Genre 5 - Romance

"No...it can't be! It's...it's...you!"

The hammerhead shark stood there aghast, gazing deep into my swollen eyes.

"You! You are the one! I saw you on that faithful morning at the salmon feeding pools! You moved with such grace, spread the bait with such skill and finesse, it was all I could do but fall for your sweetness, your warmth!" Yes, I remembered that day out at the fish farm. The hammerhead came closer, squishing some loose weiners from the destroyed hotdog stand beneath its tail and lifted me up from the ground with such strength, oh, such strength.

"When I first looked up from the pinball machine, I thought for a moment that...but now...now..." I looked into its dark mesmorising eyes, with nictitating membranes sweeping across them, and I saw the hammerhead for what it truly was, a magnificient creature, the likes I'd never met before, or ever will again.

Genre 6 - Ghost story

Our embrace was cut short by a sudden cracking noise in the street. What was that? I looked around but the sound only grew stronger and louder. I wanted to hold the hammerhead shark closer to me, for protection, reassurance as my chest tightened and sweat flowed down my back. The sound grew to immense proportions and came from all around us.

"What the...?" The hammerhead looked over to the destroyed hotdog stand, but I couldn't, I couldn't. My stomach churned as I closed my eyes and felt an ominous shake on the ground.

"Oh, no! No, not that!"

I forced myself to turn to whatever held the hammerhead's attention, and the horror was too much to bear. There, now standing with a foot on my backbox shield from the melted pinball machine was a ghost-like 10 foot weiner which towered above us. I gave out a whimper.

"The prophecy!"

Weekend Quickie 35 - Little Red Shiny Jordan

(image - "Don't go in the woods" sign in the woods, element - an errand for your mother, emotion - suspicion)

Little Red Shiny Jordan listened to his darling mother.

"Now, run along into the forbidden Iron Writer woods and take your Aunty Brian his weekly beer and jello."

"Arr, Mom! Do I have to?"

His mother rubbed his shiny little head.

"And don't forget to start that nice little relay idea of yours in his website's forum when you get there...What's wrong? You look suspicious, my little man?"

"Someone's been sitting in my chair..."

"Wrong tale, son, wrong tale. Now get going, he's waiting. And what have I told you about wearing sunglasses in the house?"

Little Red Shiny Jordan skipped his way through the woods and past the "Don't go in the woods" sign put there to stop the fly-by-nighters' voters from entering.

Suddenly, from behind a facebook comment, out popped Mamie Fox and Amanda Wolf.

"Hello there. What's a fine-looking little chicken leg like you doing in the woods?"

"I'm running an errand for my Mom. Ooo, Mamie Fox, what big hair you have."

"All the better to mess your mind up with."

"And Amanda Wolf, what strange big mesmorising eyes you have."

"All the better to twist your little heart up. Come, Mamie Fox, supper has arrived..."

65 - Oh, Elva!

(Anthony E Pratt, a Room, a Weapon, a Character)

Another hard working day in their little sweet and tobacconist shop ended with Elva turning the sign on the door. It was enough to make her sick. In fact....she wiped the counter down, ready for the next day. She coughed, a little at first but then full-blown belters as her confidence grew, holding a handkerchief over her mouth.

"What's wrong, dear?"

"Nothing (cough), nothing at all."

"Are you alright, Elva, dear? Are you coming down with something?" Her husband Anthony, Anthony Pratt, THE Anthony Pratt who created the infamous board game 'Cluedo', busied himself with the humbugs and pineapple chunks.

"Must be (cough), must be something in the air. I'm, I'm alright, really." She feigned weakness and sat down on the nearest chair. Anthony came over and held her hand.

"Are you sure, you're alright?"

"Yes, yes, of course. It's nothing, just a little tired, that's all, maybe I overdid it today...Anthony?"

"Yes, dear?"

"Can't we...can't we move? Or do...something else?" She fluttered her eyebrows and gave a smile but this was too much for Anthony, who gave her a cold hard stare.

"Not that again."

"What, dear? What?"

"This!" He moved away and went back to packing away the sweet jars onto the shelves. "All this! The payoff, always the payoff!"

"Oh no, darling, no, it isn't. I'm ill, really I am. See?" She coughed a few more times. "But, darling, don't you think you were a little preemptive, taking their first offer?"

"What? Oh, Elva! How many times have a told you? It's just a game! They offered £5000! Wasn't that enough? I'm lucky I got that!" Anthony now stormed around the store, shutting drawers and closing cupboards.

"But Anthony, you can't tell what will happen in the future. Cluedo might catch on, and if that happens, well, we could've been millionaires, multi-millionaires at that!"

"But it hasn't 'caught on', has it?"

"You never know, those Waddingtons might make spinoffs, perhaps go into other areas, such as books or movies."

"Oh, talk sense! It's only a game, a damn board game!"

"No need to curse, Anthony."

"Sorry."

She watched as he moved over to the Cluedo board he always had open on display behind and above the counter for all their customers to see. Every morning he'd place an unknown weapon, room and character into the envelope and would ask everyone who came in that day to guess the contents. He would even give a 10% discount to anyone who'd guess correctly. Elva watched Anthony place the cards on the counter, Professor Plum, in the kitchen, with the lead piping.

"Maybe we should take a break, dear. Close the shop for a week, go somewhere special."

"How about London?"

"London? Whatever for?"

"That's where Waddingtons is based, isn't it?"

"Oh, Elva!"

"You can go into the office and ask for more money."

"Elva!"

An evil thought appeared in her head.

"Better yet, I can go in."

"Elva, stop it, please!"

"Me, in the office, with a letter opener..."

Weekend Quickie 36 - Second base

(image - UFO over a beach with girl and boy running, element - dandelion bracelet, emotion - incredulity)

We sat there in the grassy dunes, making daisy chains and dandelion bracelets as the sun beat down on our smiling faces and boney teenage legs.

"Do you love me, Tom?"

"Of course I do, Janice!"

It was the greatest summer break I'd ever had. No more would I hide in the back of the classroom and adore her from afar. She was mine and I was hers.

"Look, all done."

I didn't mind messing around on the beach, it was enough that I could spend all my waking hours with her. By luck, our parents had hired neighbouring beach huts and our romance had started from the very first morning.

"That looks very..." A dark cloud came over but elsewhere was still burning sunshine. I looked up. "No! It can't be!"

"Tom? What is it? A little rain cloud? I do so love little rain..." She looked up and we were both in a state of incredulity. "It's..it's not a....is it, Tom?"

With its spinning chassis and flashing lights, it hovered above us. A beam shot from it's belly and Janice disappeared, along with the UFO.

"Ah, hell! I can't believe it! I didn't even get to second base!"

66 (Grudge 6) - The Universe doesn't Care what You are

(one of the main characters has a paper bag on their head, Rav Shaul, keywords from 8 processes of beer making in sequence, format of a radio script)

"THE UNIVERSE DOESN'T CARE WHAT YOU ARE" / CAILE

1 SFX TWO PAIRS OF FOOTSTEPS WALK TOWARDS

2 EACH OTHER, SOUND OF A PAPER BAG

3 RUSTLING AND A COUGH FROM WITHIN. ONE

4 PAIR OF FOOTSTEPS STOPS.

5 TED: Shalom.

6 SFX VOICE OF RAV COMES FROM UNDER

7 A PAPER BAG.

8 RAV: Shalom.

9 TED: Err, Hi. My name's Ted. Who are you?

10 SFX SECOND PAIR OF FOOTSTEPS STOPS.

11 RAV: Rav. Rav Shaul.

12 TED: Who?

13 RAV: Rav Shaul, you know?

14 TED: Shaul? Oh, Rav Shaul! You're a Gentile!

15 RAV: Yes...what? No, that's a misunderstanding, I'm a Natsari Jew!

16 TED: Yeah, right, Rav. Pull the other one. Err...but Rav? Why have

17 you got a paper bag on your head?

18 SFX SOUND OF SIGH FROM INSIDE PAPER BAG.

19 RAV: I thought that would be obvious.

20 TED: Good point, seeing as you're a Gentile. Any stones around here?

21 RAV: I'm not a Gentile! I'm a Natsari Jew!

22 TED: Whatever. So, you're still reading the Torah then, eh?

23 RAV: Of course! I'm a Rabbi! Look, see? Never leave home

24 without one.

25 SFX SOUND OF LARGE PARCHMENTS BEING

26 OPENED, THEN BEING CLOSED.

27 TED: Oh, right. But, really, I heard you were...a Christian.

28 SFX: LARGE SOUND OF THUNDER

29 RAV: Christian?

30 SFX: LARGE SOUND OF THUNDER

31 TED: Yeah, Christian.

32 SFX: LARGE SOUND OF THUNDER

33 RAV: No, not me. Those Chri...

34 SFX: BEGINNING OF THUNDER

35 RAV: Those Gentiles...they get -soaked in water-. I don't.

36 TED: Yeah, crazy, right? You'd have to be -slightly cracked-

37 to do that.

38 RAV: And they're -steeping- in love and harmony and all that

39 'Hallelujah' jazz...whatever that is...I've absolutely no idea...

40 TED: Oh, Christ, yeah.

41 RAV: Mind your language.

42 TED: Sorry.

43 RAV: Yes, well, everything that those Chri...Gentiles were before is

44 -rinsed out-, -extracted-. They are -separated- from our grand

45 teachings by that small group of 'disciples'. Pah!

46 TED: Yeah, so I heard.

47 RAV: And then they are -boiled- up, cleansed and -sterilized- with

48 all that talk about 'loving their God'. That's...just not me.

49 TED: That guy they follow...who is he again?

50 RAV: Jesus.

51 TED: What? What happened? What did I do now?

52 RAV: No, Jesus, Jesus Christ. That's the guy's name. Jesus Christ.

53 TED: Oh, right, right. Yeah, 'course it is.

54 RAV: Then they sit and -ferment-, talking about the 'Old Testament'.

55 Not me, no, sir.

56 TED: What is that all about, eh? 'Old Testament'?

57 RAV: Beats me. But they are so -settled-, so sure of themselves.

58 It is quite an achievement to do this in our time of unrest.

59 They are -stabilized- with their 'Scriptures', with no

60 -cloudiness- of mind.

61 TED: Those Chri...Gentiles, they're a bunch of special -cases-,

62 if you ask me.

63 RAV: Yes, well, it was nice meeting you...err?

64 TED: Ted.

65 RAV: Yes, Ted. But I have to -wrap it up- here, Ted, I've got a

66 circumcision at 4.

67 TED: Oh, right, well, sorry to hold you up. Have a good one!

68 RAV:...yes, quite.

69 SFX RAV'S SET OF FOOTPRINTS MOVES OFF.

70 TED: Okay, well, Shalom!

71 SFX VOICE OF RAV FURTHER AWAY.

72 RAV: One born every minute...

73 TED: Sorry?

74 RAV: And 'peace' upon you, too...shmuck.

Genre Mash Up Test 2
(4 elements, 6 genres in one story, 150 words per genre – elements - marshmallows, baby bottle warmer, crocheted scarf)

Genre Mash Up Test 2 - Part 1 - Satire

"Where can I plug this in, then?" Todd held the baby bottle warmer in both hands.

"Look, we're in the woods, we're camping." The fire grew stronger with every prod of my stick.

"What? Do you mean that there's nowhere to plug this in?" He searched around the small clearing, looking for a socket.

"You're just gonna have to survive without it for a few days." I relaxed back in my three-legged fold-away camp stool, almost falling off. "Come, the baby's sleeping now. Have some toasted marshmallows with me."

Todd sat down on the log beside the fire.

"What are we gonna do?" He took out his tablet and stabbed at the screen. "There's no Wifi here!"

"Relax. There's lots of things to do. I'm going to start on that crocheted scarf I've always wanted to make."

He continued poking and flicking through screens.

"Is there an App for that?"

Genre Mash Up Test 2 Part 2 - Horror

The flame of the fire flickered and a cool breeze blew through the clearing.

"Is it me or did the temperature just drop?" I put my toasted marshmallow down and headed for a blanket somewhere in the tent.

"Nope."

"What?"

"There's no App for making a crocheted scarf." Todd huddled over his tablet. There was something strange about him tonight, more than usual. I rummaged through the tent and finally found a blanket. It had grown quiet outside since entering.

"Todd?" With the blanket around me, I poked my head out. He no longer sat by the fire, only the baby bottle warmer and my marshmallows were there. "Todd?"

Tenaciously, I returned to my stool and watched the flames dancing in the weakening light. A sudden sound to the right caught my attention.

"Todd? Is that you? Todd?" A hand touched my left shoulder, I jumped up, losing the blanket.

Genre Mash Up Test 2 Part 3 - Dr Suess

"Wanna play a game?"

said Todd, throwing the baby bottle warmer from one hand to the other.

"It's not the same as any other game.

You can even call your mother."

"What's the game, Todd?"

He grabbed some marshmallows and stuffed them up his nose.

He popped them out,

fell about,

and put them 'tween his toes.

"What kind of game, Todd?

Won't you ever tell? Oh!

Does it include a crocheted scarf?

Or maybe some jello?"

"There is no scarf, not even half,

And as for jello...

maybe a marshmallow.

He placed some inside the warmer and dropped it in the fire.

He laughed and danced and jumped around,

and watched the flames grow higher.

"Todd, are you okay?

You seem a little weird.

You 'll wake the baby with your noise!

All this is worse than I'd feared."

"Let's play another game that's not the same," he jeered.

Genre Mash Up 2 Test Part 4 - Sonnet

When the marshmallows are toasted ready,

And the stars still shine in the cool wind night,

With our sweet muppet cuddlin' his teddy,

Under a dreamlike moon all silver and white,

And the baby bottle warmer we leave

By the fire, forgotten and unused,

And the crocheted scarf you never did weave,

With this little dumb sonnet I have mused,

I sing of your wond'rous beautiful hair,

And vixen smiles which take a good man's heart.

No one can resist as they stop and stare,

'Cause you're basically a common tart.

And nothing tonight can change what will be,

So shut up and start being nice to me.

Genre Mash Up Test 2 Part 5 - Sci-fi

"Yeah, sorry, Todd. I know, I have been a bit of a bitch recent..."

Flashing lights and an ominous whirring sound from above filled the clearing. Instinctively, I ran for the tent where our baby slept. Before I got there, a small uniformed alien appeared.

"Stop, human!"

Still holding some toasted marshmallows on sticks, I flung them and they stuck to its helmet.

"Ah! I am under attack!"

"Watch out for any crocheted scarves they may have," spoke its communicator.

"I don't have one of them, but I have...a HOOK!"

The alien cowered as I held out the tool.

"You're bluffing! You would never use it!"

"But I will use this!" shouted Todd, coming up behind. "This Universal Quantum Spectral Explosive will blow us all to kingdom come!" Todd menacingly held up the baby bottle warmer.

"You humans are crazy! Commander! Take me up!" And with that they were gone.

Genre Mash Up Test 2 Part 6 - Action / adventure

With the UFO gone, and the baby still sleeping peacefully, the realisation that something else pressed upon our minds came to being. 200 yards away was the only outside toilet for miles, cleverly disguised as a cesspit surrounded by wooden planks.

Todd was the first to move, sprinting past the fire, making the baby bottle warmer topple. He moved into the woods towards the man-made shithole. Dropping any thoughts of weaving a crocheted scarf, I saundered over to the fallen bottle warmer and picked it up. It had been a long time since I'd used my shotputting skills as college champion two years in a row, but I aimed and threw it well, slinging it in Todd's direction. I heard a thud, quickly followed by breaking branches and twigs. Bingo.

Scoffing what marshmallows were left, I victoriously used the wooden contraption while Todd shat in the bushes with the bears.

Weekend Quickie 37 - When friends are your greatest enemies

(image - fireflies in a jar, element - timber rattler (rattlesnake), emotion \- nostalgia)

"Chris! So good to see you again, me old mate!"

"Likewise, likewise."

The two old timers sat on the porch, brought together once again after 60 odd years by an old friend's funeral. The last of the mourners had left, leaving them to chew things over and reminisce.

"Remember ol' Mamie?"

"Red haired Mamie? Yes, of course."

"Wow, she was a hot one, that girl! A right goer! Always ready for a weekend quickie. Whatever happened to her, eh?"

"I married her. Buried her 18 years ago."

"Oh."

"Yes."

"Right. Well, err, what about when we took on the Terrible Duo...!"

"...and I got a broken jaw and had to start wearing false teeth at the age of 11."

"Uh-huh. Yeah. And when we took that jar of fireflies down to the lake to check out whether frogs really did glow in the dark if they ate 'em?"

"Yes, I remember. I got bitten by a timber rattler and had to be helicoptered over to the county hospital because the doctor was out of antivenom. My heart stopped twice."

"Ah, those were the days, eh?"

"No, Jordan, not really."

A firefly flew slowly by, its bulbous lower abdomen flashing green.

67 - Whoops, there goes the neighbourhood

(dice, the Gods, cocktails, irrigation boots)

"Just throw the dice, you're stalling, Hades."

"Quiet, I'm thinking."

"The time for that is over," remarked Poseidon. "My sea monster will eat your three-headed hellhound for lunch."

"One hell of a boast from a man in a loincloth," sniggered Ares, sharpening his sword on the tip of Mount Olympus.

"Watch it, or you'll know where I can sharpen this," he replied, threatening Ares with his trident.

"Now, now, it's just a friendly game, boys." Aphrodite tried to calm them down. "Where's the love?"

Zeus pointed down to Earth, on a little isolated beach occupied by two humans, a man and a woman in an embrace.

"There. Can I get a zoom on that, please?"

They all shook their heads. Hades threw the dice and 'whooped'.

"Looks like I take that damn sea monster of yours out of the picture, Fishboy." He picked up Poseidon's piece and put it in his pocket. "I'll save that for later, you never know when it'll come in handy."

"Why you...!" Ares held Poseidon back from striking Hades.

"Now then, now then! Enough!" Zesus commanded. They all settled down. "How about we all get some cocktails and relax a little, eh? We've had our fun for the day." Zeus clicked his fingers and a waiter appeared.

"Yes, my Ultimate Master of All we See?"

"We'd like some cocktails."

"Why, of course." The waiter took out his chalk and slate.

"Ladies, first." Zeus gestured over to Aphrodite.

"Sex on the Beach, please."

They all looked back to the isolated beach Zeus had pointed to earlier.

"No, "Sex on the Beach", vodka, cranberry juice..."

"Yuck, cranberry juice! Oh well, each to her own. You, the one with the trident."

"Poseidon, Zeus."

"Yes, you, Fishboy. What would you like?"

"A Blue Lady."

"I bet you would."

The waiter whispered in Zeus's ear.

"Oh, right. Gin, huh?"

Poseidon nodded.

"And you, Dead Dude?"

"A Shit on the Grass, please."

"Look, Hades, you're on Olympus now, not down below in your own little underworld. We do have toilets up here, you know..."

The waiter tugged on Zeus's gown.

"Oh, don't tell me..."

"Kahluá and Midori Melon Liqueur, my Ultimate Master of All we See."

"Okay, okay. And you, Ares? How about you?"

"A Cosmopolitan."

They all stared at him for a moment.

"You could have any cocktail, absolutely any, and you ask for a Cosmopolitan? So dull, Ares, so dull."

"Well, I did want a Pina.."

"Don't we all."

"Well, father, what would you like?" asked Aphrodite.

"Tequila Sunrise."

They all moaned.

"Well, what did you expect? Okay, so whose turn is it next, anyway?"

"Yours."

"Oh, super!" Zeus leaned over the Earth to take the dice from the other side and tipped the place a little. A flood began and they all heard screams and suffering from across the land below. Chaos reigned and the couple on the beach had been washed away by a huge tsunami. "Whoops. Perhaps it's time I got someone to invent irrigation boots..."

Weekend Quickie 38 - Oh, Nana!

(image - old woman in a kitchen with floating apples, element - lost shoes, emotion - exuberance)

"Oh, I feel so exuberant!"

"Nana, are you okay?" The kitchen floor and table were covered with crates. "What are you doing?"

"I'm making apple pie. You know, I haven't felt this good in ages! I'm so full of energy!"

She potted around the kitchen, never really doing anything other than picking up apples and half peeling them.

"Nana, you're making a mess...Nana? Where's the bag I left here on the counter?" My grass was gone. I'd never thought to worry about leaving stuff around the house before, Nana hadn't been herself since Papa died.

"Oh, that! I fancied a tea, so I brewed those leaves up. Wonderful tea! You must get more of that, Teddy."

Nana had brewed up my whole week supply of grass. Unbelievable, I didn't even know you could do that. I'd have to go out and get more.

"Nana, where are my shoes?"

"Shoes?" Humming to herself, she sat down and her eyes glazed over.

"Nana? Are you okay? Don't you think you've got a few too many apples here for one pie?"

"Oh, look, they're flying." She stared around the kitchen, oblivious to my questions.

"Nana, my shoes?"

"Lost, all lost, lost shoes..."

68 - The Hole in the Wall

(rock, paper, scissors, shaving cream)

What exactly did we ever do in those school breaks, those thousands of endless breaks between lessons? It seems such a waste now, all that running around, playing football, picking on the weak kid, playing kiss chase, inventing some stupid game which involved a tennis ball and large empty wall, and basically talking rubbish throughout. Why didn't we study, why didn't we try to better ourselves when we had the chance? Why didn't we listen when the teacher asked us to study for the test, do the project, or stop throwing paper at each other? Now look at us, stuck in deadend jobs, paying the bills, breeding more fodder for the system to chew on and spit out.

There was one teacher, I remember now, only one, who tried to wake us up. But one wasn't enough. He gave us an opportunity to think, to have an opinion, to question things around us, both close to home and globally. No tests every other lesson, no punishment for late homework, only bad marks if we didn't do right. He used to let us play, too, but in what he called an educational way. One game I really didn't like back then was 'rock, paper, scissors'. What the hell was that all about? He told us it originated in China way back, and has been used to settle small trivial arguments ever since. I didn't get it then and, as he always encouraged us to do, I questioned its logic. Sure, rock blunts scissors, and scissors cuts paper, but paper covers rock? No, I wasn't having that. I even tried to show him that paper doesn't stop a flying rock with a few ill fated experiments. His point was that it covered the rock. I then said you might as well cover it with shaving cream or some kind of foam, or a box, maybe. He said that a box was made of cardboard, which is paper, but he liked my idea of shaving cream. He opened it up to the class, that if paper changed to shaving cream, what could the other two objects be? Razor was easy as a substitute for scissors but the others got stumped on the rock. Looking at the teacher, it came to me in a flash. His face. The silence in the classroom was broken by the teacher's laughter. Yes, razor scrapped away shaving cream, shaving cream covered his face, and his face blunted the razor. He gave me a good mark for that one, but he then asked me how I was going to represent them...that's when the idea fell apart.

I wonder what ever became of that teacher? Last thing I heard was that he'd written a book and got it published, though I don't think he was famous or anything. And what about all of us, the thinkers, the opinionated argumentatives? Menial jobs, most of us, but I did learn one thing. The pen is mightier than the sword. Paper covers rock.

The Cat and the Monkey (Impromtu relay)

(Based on Mathew posting a picture of a cat on Facebook)

Co-written: Mathew W. Weaver

Dani: There was this cat...

Mathew:... which lived all alone...

Dani: ...in a little white...

Mathew:...doghouse. It's neighbor....

Dani: a grouchy, diseased and...

Mathew:...putrid monkey with a bad case of rabies....

Dani: ...loved to howl and screech...

Mathew:... at odd hours during the afternoon.

Dani: Well, this cat decided that...

Mathew:...enough was enough, and...

Dani: ...in one odd moment when...

Mathew:... the monkey was having guests over....

Dani: ...he leapt up onto the fence which separated...

Mathew:...the garden from the swimming pool, and...

Dani: marked the area for all to smell. Unfortunately, the water...

Mathew:... formerly a beautiful shade of deep blue...

Dani: ...now turned to a dirty shade of yellow.

Mathew:The monkey, in the process of...

Dani: creaming his butt for the infamous...

Mathew:... Cherished Chimpanzee maneuver, which also involved...

Dani: squeezing his testicles in a banana vice...

Mathew:... and yodeling in as high pitched a voice as possible...

Dani: ...stopped in his tracks when the guests noticed...

Mathew: ...that there was now a palpable change in odor...

Dani: ...and an oily viscosity to the water,

Mathew: ...accompanied by a faintly noxious cloud of green.

Dani: The way that monkey somersaulted...

Mathew:... with the poise and agility of a gymnast and...

Dani: ...no hint of the 23 years in urethral sling surgery which blighted his blossoming career as...

Mathew:... an acrobatic pianist at the local circus, he...

Dani: ...could've won Gold at the local Prosthetic...

Mathew: ...Amazing Aeronautical Ape Competition, that also happened to feature...

Dani:.....the Stupendous Russian Poodles of Kiev and their...

Mathew:... lesser known counterparts, the Roaring Rottweilers of Romania.

Dani: With a flick and fling, the monkey landed...

Mathew:... with grandeur on the tiles beside the pool, but...

Dani: ...unbeknown to his little brain, the cat had already covered them with...

Mathew:... litty itty bits of hairballs that he had torn to pieces just so.

Dani: The monkey's guests looked on as their host suffered the most hilarious bout of chaetophobia...

Mathew:... as his legs scrambled wildly and yet he stayed in one place. His mouth open in a yodel of protest...

Dani: ...,to the surprise of all who were there to witness it,..

Mathew:... he managed to miraculously regain his balance. He grabbed the fence, and let out a sigh of relief. But that, however, was before...

Dani: ...the cat had enacted his "piece de resistance", the 'claws in...

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..."

"His throat was cut in the first two hours! We never got a chance to know him or even speak to him!"

"Hey! It's...no, it isn't." Bob took out another match. They all sat down and tried not to smell the body.

"Why didn't we turn back right then?" asked Keith.

"Err, we did. Then we got lost," confessed Dave.

"What a complete balls-up."

"Hey, I remember a fantastic time, lost in the woods when I was a kid," laughed Dave.

"Yes, really? Seeing as you are now here, you found your way out," replied Bob, blowing.

"It was great! We had no food..."

"Like now."

"... it poured down for days..."

"Like now."

"...and we had no map and no way to find our way home."

"Like now. So, what happened?"

"Err, erm..."

"That was a lie, wasn't it? You didn't get lost in the woods, did you?" growled Karen.

"Err, no. No, we didn't."

"Hell."

"Tesco's. It was Tesco's."

Karen grabbed a large stick from the unlit fire and whacked it around his head.

"Ow!"

"Now then, that's enough of that!"

They all sat down again in silence.

"Hey! I've got it...nope."

Weekend Quickie 43 - Jump!

(image - people jumping from cliff into water, element - the summer after Junior Year at High School, emotion - determination)

"Come on! Everyone does it when they finish High School! Go down to the beach and jump!" shouted John.

"Yeah, but..."

"What are ya, chicken?" laughed Kyle, gulping his Bud.

"No, I just..."

"What the hell do ya think we came here for? To catch some rays?" screamed Biff.

"Err, we did that, too, Biff," replied Kyle.

"Yeah. Anyway, you should know, Zak, your brother started this tradition years ago," said John.

"Yeah, but..."

"Casey expects it." They all nodded in agreement with Wiley. "You can't let her down now, not after the Prom."

It was like a dream to finally ask her out to the Junior Prom after years of watching her from the back of the room.

"Yeah, come on, Zak! Grow some balls!" Kyle threw his crushed empty Bud to the ground and they all followed him out.

He was right. With all the determination I could muster, I caught up with them and we walked together to the cliff. The others were there, friends, girlfriends, Casey...waiting. I took off my t-shirt and flip-flops and lined up with the others. On a count of three we all jumped.

"You did it!" screamed John.

"I can't swim!"

*SPLASH*

73 - (Summer Open Final) The Sun Rises In

(lost key, travel brochure, thermostat, dessert topping)

"Hell, that damn sun! Doesn't it know how to knock?" John got out of bed crossing the trespassing rays and ran over to the thermostat in the hotel room, tapping it to see if the dial moved.

"John, stop it. You know it's stuck on 30 degrees Celcius." Both woke up in a sweat, dying for a drink. "And it was you who left the curtains open last night."

"We needed the air." He gave up on the thermostat and jumped back into bed with Anne, his latest love, giving her a smile and a cuddle.

"You can always close your eyes, pretend it's not there."

"What? Then I wouldn't be able to see you, my dear!" She fought him off with a pillow. "But why can't it let up for a bit? Go and burn down on someone else! Say Sri-Lanka, they won't notice."

"You were the one who chose this place. Remember all those travel brochures I got for ya? You could've chosen anywhere but you didn't. You could've chosen somewhere cool, like Greenland or something like that, but no. You're a cheapskate!"

"Yeah, but you wouldn't have liked it, Greenland. It's...green."

"No, I wouldn't. Can you get me a drink, darling?"

"Sure." John got up again and tried the handle of the bathroom, the only place in the room with a tap. "Damn! Oh yeah. You and your 'lost key' story."

"Well, I did lose it. Do you think the hotel will charge for that?" she said, grinning.

"Yes, considering this establishment."

"Try the fridge."

"Broken. And empty."

"Oh, John. Did we drink it dry?" She opened her arms and he came back to the bed.

"Remember last night? The restaurant?"

"Oh yes, it was lovely, thanks for that."

"You're welcome, my dear. It was fantastic, in fact, more than fantastic, it was exquisite. But the bill...that wasn't so 'exquisite'."

"You skinflint, you! Don't I deserve a little pampering?"

"Yes, no, err, don't get me wrong, dear, I'd pay a fortune to see you happy..."

"Better. Oh, and that homemade Dulce de Leche on our strawberry ice cream sundaes? That was the greatest dessert topping I've ever eaten."

"And probably the most expensive..."

"But it was the most delicious! How can you put a price on something like that?"

"Yes, you are right, my love. For you I'd pay the price, you are the world to me." He drew her close to him once more, their sweat merging in the heat. "The world."

"If I'm the world to you, then...your world is in this bed."

"Yes. And your point, my dear?"

"My point is, if that is right, then this 'damn sun' shines on your world." Anne stood up on the bed and let the rays hit her voluptuousness.

"Err, yeah, you're right! But it's so damn hot in here..."

"Then complain! Get that thermostat fixed!" She dropped back down on the bed, almost making John fall to the floor. "Call the management!"

"I am the management!"

The Iron Writer Party Line (Impromtu relay)

(Based on my Facebook comment of an Iron Writer Party Line)

Co-written: Mathew W. Weaver, Jordan Bell, Tony Jaeger

Dani: Hello, this is the Iron Writer Party Line. Press 1 if you'd like to Kill Brian, Press 2 if you'd like to praise Mamie's big hair, Press 3 if you'd like to kick Jordan's ass in a challenge, Press 4....etc

Jordan Bell: Press 4 to talk to the Gecko.

Mathew W. Weaver: ...press 5 to begin guessing who The Weaver is, press 6...

Dani: Press 6 for Tony 'No Show' (silence)...

Mathew W. Weaver: .... You have pressed 4. Do you confirm?

Press 1 to confirm. 2 to go back. 3 to proceed.

Dani: You have pressed 4. Do you confirm? Press 1 to confirm. 2 to go back. 3 to proceed...

Mathew W. Weaver: You have pressed one. Connecting. Please hold.

(Dani changes to a caller)

Dani: I AM holding! I've been doing this for the last 20 minutes...!

Mathew W. Weaver: We are sorry. Please hold while we connect you to the Gecko

Dani: The what? Hello? Hello!...

Mathew W. Weaver: Please hold. The Gecko will be on momentarily.

Dani: The Gecko? What? What the hell? Where's the Iron Writer Party Line? Hello?

Mathew W. Weaver: ... would you like to press 5 and begin guessing who The Weaver is? Press 1 to acknowledge, 3 to go back.

Dani: No, no, no! Who give's a flying f.... don't they have any humans on this!

Mathew W. Weaver: ... you have dialled 7. Please hold.

Dani: Seven? Seven? When the hell did I press seven?

Mathew W. Weaver: Hey there! How can I take yer order?

Dani: Sorry...Hey! You're human! You! I've been running through your bloody phone system for almost half an hour now and....eh? What order?

Mathew W. Weaver: This here's Sam's Steak and Grilled Pizza! Don't knock it till you've tried it! What kin ah get ya?

Dani: What? Sam's what? Pizza? What the...?

Mathew W. Weaver: Redirecting...Would you like to press 5 and begin guessing who The Weaver is? Press 1 to acknowledge, 3 to go back. Press 1 if you'd like to Kill Brian. Press 2 if you'd like to praise Mamie's big hair. Press 3 if you'd like to kick Jordan's ass in a challenge. Press 4 to talk to the Gecko.

Dani: What? Hell, I'm gonna press 8...! See how ya like that!

Mathew W. Weaver : You have pressed 8. Press 1 to confirm, press 2 to return.

Dani: Finally! Getting somewhere!

Mathew W. Weaver: You have confirmed. Please hold while we connect you to "Guessing Who The Weaver Is"...

Dani: What? No, that was 5! I'd rather bloody Kill Brian! How do I go back on this? Hell! No!

Mathew W. Weaver: Connecting...Hello?

Dani: ...err, Hello...(cough)...

Mathew W. Weaver: You have reached the Gecko! Ask and ye shall receive! ...hello?

Dani: Oh, right. Err, hello, 'Gecko'. Now, err...erm...okay...erm....The Weaver, huh? Erm...is he LeBron James?

Mathew W. Weaver: The Weaver? What the heck is that?

Dani: The Weaver. Your system just put me through to "Guessing Who The Weaver Is". All I wanted to do was speak to Tony 'No Show'. Who are you?

Mathew W. Weaver: I told you. I'm the Gecko.

Dani: The Gecko? What the hell is that? Look I don't know who you are but I want to complain to someone in charge!

Mathew W. Weaver: Look pal, you called me. And for the record, I haven't a clue what the Gecko is. Jordan came up with it.

Dani: Jordan? Who the hell is Jordan? And don't you 'pal' me, mate! I've been waiting for over half an hour to get in touch with Tony 'No Show' and all I get is a screwy phone system and your sorry arse!

Mathew W. Weaver: Well, you're stuck with me, pal, for better or worse. What's with this 'No Show' dude you keep harping about, anyway?

Tony Jaeger: You've reached Tony 'No Show', I'm not here right now, but please leave me a message, and I'll... I dunno, get back to you and stuff.

Mathew W. Weaver: Who the heck are you? And how did you get on this line?

Dani: What the f....! Oi! You! Tony 'No Show' I'll give ya a piece of my mind, I will! You, Gecko! Get yer boss on the line! I wanna see the Complaints book!

Mathew W. Weaver: Whoa, bro. This is way over my pay grade.

Tony Jaeger: Hey, this is Tony 'No Show'. Please don't ask me for the complaints book. It's a big Damn book, and really heavy.

Mathew W. Weaver: Hey, quit hogging the line! This is a personal paid-for call here!

Dani: Hey! I wanna speak to the boss! Get me your boss on the line!

Jordan Bell: Herro, you wan terriyaki, you call wight place. Sofa king goo fry duck aso. Wanton!? You wanten wanton! Got you covahd. Like jimmy hat. O. Herro, I see. Wong numba!

Dani: What? Hey! Is this a crossed line? What?

Mathew W. Weaver: Who the.... did you say terriyaki?

Dani: Where's the boss! No I didn't! That was some screwball Chinese dude! Where's your boss?

Jordan Bell: Wat on stick? Herro?

Mathew W. Weaver: Terriyaki?

Dani: Get off the bloody line! Hell...!

Mathew W. Weaver: Just a sec, now, Chief. Hey, Chinese dude...

Jordan Bell: Confucius say, wong numba asso jerki boy!

Mathew W. Weaver: Hey, hey, hold it. How's your roast duck?

Jordan Bell: Brrrrcccchhhkkkk! We're sorry. The number you have reached has been disconnected.

Mathew W. Weaver: Wait your turn, Tony boy.

Mathew W. Weaver: Oh for the love of....

Dani: ....were you ordering food on MY call?

Jordan Bell: Press 4 for the The Geico Gecko

Dani: I...oh, go shove your head in a...click...duhhhhhhhh...

Mathew W. Weaver: (static)

Weekend Quickie 44 - Joyce

(image - Shakespeare and Company bookstore in Paris, element - an artist, emotion - love at first sight)

If this is a wild goose chase, I'm going to kill that old Kraut. That is, if he wasn't dead already. Five years of laughing at my paintings and artistic works wasn't enough for him. He had to go and write a letter to me on his deathbed, sending me all the way to Paris to some dingy bookstore called 'Shakespeare and Company'. Some cock and bull story about an argument with the shop owner over a book during the occupation more than 70 years ago. A book. But not just any book. As he wrote, 'the' book. My curiosity brought me over the Channel.

Oh, well, here it is. Not so dingy after all. Nice looking assistant.

"Bonjour."

"Bonjour."

Now where did he say it was? Third bookshelf on the left, on the right side, near the floorboards. Wait for the assistant to look away...okay, now. Put my hand in...a little further...there's something behind the bookcase. Was it? Carefully, carefully, wrap what fingers I can around it, push the object out. A book. One blow on the cover, not enough. Smooth off the layer of dust. Finnegan's Wake. Finnegan's Wake? My heart's stopped. It was love at first sight.

74 - The Spirit of Aragorn

(horse, umbrella, car battery, told from the point of view of a defense attorning invoking the Stupidity Defense. (The attorney pleas stupidity, rather than insanity))

"I invoke the Stupidity Defense," said defense attorney Todd Ranson in the most serious tone he could produce.

"Oh, Mr. Ranson, I wish you wouldn't," replied Judge Theadore, scratching his long dappled nose with a hoof. "Do you have to do this every time a human comes to our court?"

"Err, yes, I do, Judge Theadore. It's because they are." With humans, it was the only course of action. Everything they did was stupid.

"Okay, Mr. Ranson. Please, once again, enlighten the court as to this human's stupidity, or as you have so rightly put on so many occasions before, the stupidity of their whole entire race."

"Thank you, Judge Theadore." Todd Ranson looked over to the bewildered human seated in the guilty chair holding a car battery and umbrella. The shock of reaching the court of Equus Ferus Caballus was perhaps too much for the fool. "As you can see, my learned colleagues, this poor specimen of a human is still in possession of the very same tools which substantiate his guilt." Clip clops of acknowledgement came from the jury. "The car battery it tried to connect to the wire fence which surrounded the victim, and the umbrella which saved itself from the pouring rain." The human realised and immediately hid the said items. "And now it probably thinks 'out of sight, out of mind'. The signs of a poor, delusional creature."

"Oh, Mr. Ranson, get to the point," grumbled Judge Theadore, neighing in boredom.

"Well, as you all know, the human race believes that it, and it alone, is the only true intellectual group on planet Animalia, or Earth as they call it." More clip clops and some irate neighing filled the courtroom. "Does this not show how stupid they are, to ignore the pleas and calls from other animals of their destructiveness and selfishness on this planet, dismissing their fellow passengers on this journey of life as mere nonsense and noise?"

"Objection! You cannot put the faults of a whole race on one individual." Prosecutor Red Randalf stood up with two hooves on his desk.

"Objection overruled, Mr. Randalf. Don't you want to get to your oats as soon as possible?" asked Judge Theadore. The prosecutor neighed and stood down.

"Thank you, Judge Theadore. Now, not only do these savages..." Todd nodded over to the human "...continue to enslave, manipulate and murder themselves and other species such as ours, they also still believe in a non-existent entity they call 'god'."

"Isn't that 'dog' spelt backwards, Mr. Ranson?" asked Judge Theadore.

"It is, your honour, a fact lost on these sad moronic parasites. And not only do they believe in such a non-existent entity, but everything that happens in their lives, they attribute to 'god', whether good or bad."

"No matter how many times you say it, Mr. Ranson, it just doesn't get old." The judge and his cohorts neighed in laughter with the whole courtroom giggling. "Everyone knows the universe is controlled by the Spirit of Aragorn."

Weekend Quickie 45 - Oh, the thrill

(image - 59th Queensboro Bridge, New York, element - a chance encounter, emotion \- thrill)

'NewYork would be the thrill of a lifetime', they said. The only thrill I'd be getting would be the one where I make it across this damn Queensboro bridge. My father's family lived in Long Island City but who knew about the three hour gridlock, stuck in the heat, smell and noise of the traffic. What was it Simon and Garfunkel sang? Oh, yeah, let's see...

Speed up, you move too slow.

I ain't got time to make the morning pass.

Just flicking off the flies.

Looking glum and not feelin' groovy at all...

"Hey! Mathew, isn't it?"

"Wha..?" I looked through the cab's back window and there was a girl waving from another cab behind. She clearly wanted my attention. I opened my window and stuck my head out, breathing in the fumes and pollution. "Yeah?"

"Mathew, right?"

"Err, yeah?" How did this girl know my name?

"I'm Cath, your cousin!"

She pushed herself out of her cab's door, paid the driver, who was irate to say the least, and opened the door of mine, pushing me to the other side.

"Well, hello, cuz!" She squeezed me to death. "Oh, this is so thrilling!"

Ah, now there's the thrill...

75 - (Grudge 7) The whole world's a stage!

(halberdier, one (and only one) of the characters must be aware of the audience, must be written entirely as dialogue, the story must take place at the Dairy Queen.)

"Hello and welcome to Dairy Queen! How can I help you? Said the suave, charismatic shop assistant."

"Erm...am I in the right place? I wanted Dairy Queen."

"Yes, sir! Today it's 'Medieval Day' and each member of staff is dressed appropriately. I'm a halberdier. Look folks, I sharpened the end of my halberd for added authenticity. Spiked Josh a good 'un earlier, eh?"

"Oh good, I thought I was in that Camelot restuarant for a moment. Didn't know they did Blizzards, too. Threw me off a bit."

"No, sir, only Dairy Queen does Blizzards, in over twenty different soft serve blends!"

"Why...why are you talking and looking over your shoulder like there's an audience behind you? All I see is the wall."

"Ah-ha! The whole world's a stage! Isn't that right, folks?"

"There, you did it again. Is there a camera or something? Am I on Candid Camera again? I remember last time..."

"The whole world's a TV show, sir! Like my costume, folks? Got it from the best fancy dress shop in town."

"Yes...nice outfit. Now, can I order? Or are you going to talk to that brick wall behind you all day? And knight. Ha!"

"Please, sir, no knight jokes. Poor Ted is still trying to get over his last customer. I think it was the 'tinned food' joke. But then, it would be, wouldn't it, folks?"

"Oh dear. I'll have two Flamethrower Chicken Wraps, please, one Side Salad, and two Double Fudge Cookie Dough Blizzard Treats."

"Any drink with that, sir? You know, we always have to ask that, folks, the amount of times people eat our Flamethrowers and come rushing back to order a drink..."

"Stop talking to the wall. Yes, okay, you have a point. Erm, no, not drinks. I'll have two Peanut Butter Sundaes, please."

"We're doing a special on Chillers at the moment. Wouldn't you like to change your order and try a couple of Strawberry Lemonade DQ Chillers?"

"No, no, thanks, and watch out for that spear of yours, you almost took my eye out with that."

"Spear? Spear! This is a halberd, sir! It has an axe, a spike and a thorn at the back of the axe. It is said that one of these sliced through the back of King Richard III's skull at the battle of Bosworth! And that a Swiss peasant used one of these to kill Charles the Bold, the Duke of Burgundy, ending the Burgundian Wars in a single stroke! This, sir, is not a spear! Was that a bit too strong, folks? I thought I did quite well."

"Really? Well, thanks for the history lesson, and your suit is very nice, indeed, but all I want is my food. Can you deal with that instead of waving your six foot weapon around and talking to the wall? Oh, forget it, I'll go over to that all-night diner...hey, all 'knight' diner, ha! Put that on your halbred and smoke it. Have a nice day!"

"Why you...!"

Weekend Quickie 46 - 5 Years later

(image - alien baby, element - 5 years later, emotion - denial)

"Ah-ha! I finally found it!" Josh threw down a black half-filled binliner on the shop counter.

"What'ya find, Josh?" Berk picked at his teeth with his fish knife.

"You goddamn know exactly what I found! 5 years it's taken me! 5 years I struggled an' suffered in this damn town because you...you did what you did!" The bedraggled old man dropped his spade, took off his gloves and delved into the bag.

"I've no idea what you're on about. I'll ring the nuthouse again, they're doing a special, call and get a straightjacket free." Berk moved to his fingernails.

"You can't deny this anymore, Berk! I've got evidence! I found what you took away that night, 5 years ago!" Josh's hands clasped on something metal and pulled out a cylindrical container. "Now no one will call me crazy ever again!"

"Get that dirty thing off my counter," mumbled Berk, still uninterested.

"No! Not until you see it! Not until you admit I was right!" He ripped open the lid and poured the contents in front of them. "See! Now can you say I'm crazy? It's an alien, an alien baby! They came, we saw...yuck!"

"What d'ya expect, 5 years later?"

76 - (Grudge 8) – Generation Gap

(a pink fairy armadillo, Mason jar, Mount St. Helen, a Wii U)

"You still on that...thing?"

"It's a Wii U, Dad."

"We, you, me?"

"Dad."

"A what?"

"A Wii U Gamepad to be precise. See, it's connected to the TV. You bought it, Dad, and you don't remember what it is?"

"I got the latest thing for you but I didn't know you'd be on it all day and night. How about doing something else?"

"Like what?"

"Err, your homework?"

"It's the holidays, Dad."

"No projects to do?"

"Done."

"How about your drawing? Why don't you do some of that?"

"Not in the mood. I'd rather play Mario."

"What about your...err...dolls?"

"Dolls? Dad, I'm fourteen, I stopped playing with Barbie a long time ago."

"Come on, you must have some other hobbies?"

"Not really."

"Err...your postcard collection? I remember you used to beg me to bring some back with me when I went on a trip."

"It's up there. Haven't touched them for months."

"There! Your rock collection, all those rocks on the windowsill, including a rock from the pyroclastic flows of Mount St. Helen. Why don't we go out in the car and find some real interesting specimens over in the gravel pits?"

"No thanks, Dad."

"What...what about pets? You were doing so well with that...what was it?"

"A pink fairy armadillo, Dad. You could've bought me a terrapin like any ordinary parent."

"What was wrong with a...a...what was it again?"

"A pink fairy armadillo. Wrong with it? I guess you didn't know that 95% of them in captivity die of stress and diet within eight weeks."

"You had it for...?"

"Four weeks."

"I don't recall...what happened to it?"

"The neighbour's cat got to it. Look, I put what I could find in that Mason jar."

"Yuck. Yeah, right, okay. Well, erm, what about that embroidery stuff you had? You loved that!"

"Benny poked his eye with a needle and Mum threw it all in the trash."

"Uh-huh. It was strange, that. He walked around for hours with that thing sticking out of the centre of his pupil. He didn't tell us because it didn't hurt. I worry about that kid...friends, your friends, what about your friends? Why don't you call one of them up, see what they're up to?"

"I've got seven of them online right now, on chat, and I'm also playing Super Smash Bros. Brawl with one of them."

"Oh, right. Well, aren't you going to invite them over?"

"Four are out of state, two are in Europe and one is in hospital."

"Oh dear, is she okay?"

"He. Bone marrow transplant. Not so pleasant."

"No, quite. Where's your mother?"

"Out."

"And your brother?"

"Cycling around the estate with his mates. Want some popcorn?"

"Err, sure, okay. So, what are you playing?"

"Thought I said. Super Smash Bros. Brawl. Wanna try?"

"Err, why not! Hand it over."

"I'll go and get some drinks."

"Hey! This is cool! Why didn't you say before?"

"Where have you been for the last 10 years, Dad?"

"Have...hey!...have you got any racing games?"

Weekend Quickie 47 - Protection

(image - 2 people with snorkels in a lake, element - Iron Writer Convention, emotion - irony)

Being the 2015 Annual Final winner, Mathew had to go, but as he was still in the Iron Writer Protection Program, he wore his suit of armour...at the First Iron Writer Convention...held in a bathing spa.

"Hey, it's Mat! Come on in!" welcomed Brian, waving him to join the group of Iron Writers in the warm thermal baths. Michael, Mackenzie and Jordan were sipping beers by the side while Amanda, Mamie and Danielle, all wearing snorkels, were messing around, trying to pull down Tony's trunks. Tannis couldn't be there, while Dani was sulking in the corner of the pool, alone, depressed, anxious for paper and pen to rid himself of his demons. In fact, wherever Mathew looked, there were Iron Writers coming out of the walls...Laura, Moira, Chris...Richard, Alis, the names ran through his mind as the sweat flowed under his suit.

"Oh, I would LOVE to join you," he said with all the irony he could muster. With that, he slipped, fell into the pool and sank to the bottom. After a struggle and a fight, he saved himself from drowning, losing the suit...and revealing who he was to the entire group.

"Well, that's irony for ya," muttered Dani.

77 – Ted's Lucky Cap

Jeff sat there in the dugout eating his apple baked gluten free oatmeal cake and stared out through his taped up presription glasses.

"Hey, Ted! How many are we down?"

"Three runs and four players."

"Eh? Four players?" Jeff continued to grind his way through his snack. He was up to the plate soon and needed the energy.

"The way that pitcher's throwing, you'll need a suit of armour out there. Never seen so many body hits."

"I did hear something about this guy being the 'hit by pitch' champion last season."

Another victim got hit, falling to the ground as the small crowd groaning in sympathy. The umpire shouted back to the pitcher about going easy on the body shots but all the guy did was stand there on the mound and shrugged his shoulders.

"Lousy pitches."

"I remember when you tried a few up on the pitcher's mound, Jeff. Couldn't even get the ball to the catcher."

The remainder of the oatmeal cake went down the wrong way and another player had to punch him in the back to stop him choking to death. Once he'd got his breath back, Ted continued.

"But they're up by three. And we're only in the second."

"Good point. I guess you gotta get out there and show that guy what you're made of, Ted." Jeff laughed, knowing Ted had some of the worst batting stats in the club's history, with .185 last season and a struggling .206 in this.

"Nah, my lucky cap ain't feeling right today. Think I'm gonna do as coach says, hit for a single and get those bases loaded." Ted turned his moth-eaten cap around and around on his head. It had so many patches, Jeff wondered whether any original part still existed.

"That cap of yours is like Locke's sock."

"Whose sock? It's a cap not a sock. Why the hell would I put a smelly old sock on my head. And who's Locke? Does he play on first base?"

"No, that's Hu."

"Who?"

"Yeah, him, the Chinese guy."

"Oh, him."

"No, I'm saying that there's nothing left of that lucky cap of yours."

Ted inspected his cap and nodded.

"Same as this team. We're the only members left from the old team who won the league two years ago. Is it the same? No, it ain't."

"Nebrowski! You're up!" shouted the coach to Ted.

"Damn," whispered Ted under his breath.

"Want me to hold your hand, Ted?" asked Jeff, drinking his plain milk.

"Hold my hand? No way. Looks like you struck out there, Jeff, ha! Nah, I'm gonna go and hit that pitcher for a home run."

"Yeah, go for it, Ted. You're a great player, a wonder. We wonder why you're here." The rest of the dugout laughed with Jeff as Ted walked to the plate. One curveball and a slider later, Ted hit the third pitch, a changeup, for a home run.

"Way ta go, Ted!"

"It's the cap, Jeff, the cap!"

Weekend Quickie 48 - The Fawn of Sertorius

(image - fawn following boz to a standing school bus, element - a forgotten rule, emotion - prescience)

Ben's hand felt wet. It wasn't the only thing.

"What...?"

In front of his face stood a deer, a fawn.

"Hello, Ben."

This animal was talking to him, without words. It had also made him wet the bed by licking his hand.

"Who are you?"

"I am the Fawn of Sertorius and I bring you a prediction."

"The Fawn of Sertori who?"

"Sertorius. I am an infamous fawn with prescience abilities."

"Oh."

Ben wished he'd predicted a fawn in his room in the morning. Now he'd have to hide all evidence of his little accident from his mom.

"Whatever you do, Ben, don't turn on the power switch in today's Physics experiment. Allow Steven to do it instead."

"What? Steven? Yeah, okay, whatever."

He looked at his alarm clock.

"Oh no! It's 7.15, I've gotta get to school!"

Ben grabbed his lunchbox and ran outside for the bus. The fawn came out after him.

"Remember, Ben, don't turn on the switch!"

He nodded back to the beast and heard jeering and taunts from the hardnuts on the bus and then remembered that old forgotten rule – never allow a fawn to follow you to the school bus on a Wednesday.

78 – Twigs

(poodle, thimble, alarm, birds as characters)

"Morning, Bert!"

"Morning, Bernie!"

The two magpies perched on their favourite branch of the old oak.

"What's up?"

"Ah, the missus wants some more twigs for the nest. You?"

"Same here. It ain't enough to feed 'em, you gotta home 'em, too."

They screeched together, attracting the attention of humans walking below in the park.

"Those humans, I wonder what they're all doing down there?" asked Bernie.

"Probably searching for food. See? On the bench? Two of them are sharing food, one is regurgigating their food and passing it over to the other."

"I believe they call that 'kissing', Bert."

"Well, they seem to have a lot of food. And one of them is grooming the other at the same time."

"I believe they call that grop..."

"What's that?"

"What's what, Bert?"

"Oh, it's so shiny..."

Bernie recognised the object below as a thimble. Bert could never resist anything shiny, his nest was full of bits and bobs, useless but to him they meant the world.

"Oh, it's so shiny..."

"Bert, no! Don't do it!"

"I must! I must!"

Bert flew off the branch and swooped down into the grass right next to the shiny silver thimble someone had dropped in the park. No sooner had the poor bird started hopping closer, a poodle came out of nowhere and chased Bert away, with the loss of a few feathers and a stack of pride. The dog's owner shouted some orders and the poodle left but Bert came right back up to the branch and looked like a bird with an inner turmoil.

"I must have it, I must!"

"There are always dangers, Bert, especially in the park. Keep to the trees, that's what my Ma used to say."

"Before she got eaten by that deer."

"How was she to know it wasn't just being friendly? Whoever heard of deers eating birds?"

Both magpies shivered, remembering that sordid day.

"I'm gonna crap all over that poodle if I ever see it again."

"You do that."

"But I really must have that shiny..."

"It's only a thimble, Bert. There'll be others."

"But it's so shin...what? What's that?"

Bernie held his head in his wings.

"What now?"

"Something over there, on that large building. The sun keeps catching it...there it is again!"

"Oh, that." Bert had spotted the bell of the alarm on the factory at the edge of the industrial estate.

"Bert, that's an alarm."

"Well, it's not on the ground and away from pesky poodles. I'm not gonna be denied again today."

Off he flew, dodging an attack from a fearce blackbird defending his territory and landed on the roof a few inches away from the alarm's shiny bell.

"Bert, no! You can't take it!" screeched Bernie across the park.

"I'm not going home empty-beaked!" Bert started pulling on the bell, digging his claws into the ceramic roof tiles and using all his strength. Some time later he flew back over to Bernie waiting on the branch.

"Twigs?"

"Twigs."

Weekend Quickie 49 - Intriguing

(image - rollerskating inside venue, element - a Saturday afternoon, emotion \- intrigue)

Another Saturday afternoon rollerskating in the Rec, going round in circles, the same way, of course. Anyone caught trying any fancy stuff or going the wrong way would be called out on the loudspeaker. But we had free rein of the gym area and a chance to do something other than hang around doing nothing but laughing at kids walking by. There was also a long terrace area which spanned the length of the hall.

"Who's that?" I nodded over to the girl on the terrace drinking from a large 2 litre Fanta bottle, but it wasn't Fanta inside.

"That? That's John's sister. She's a bit young for you. Two years down."

"What's in the bottle, d'ya think?"

"Ha! That's probably lager or cider."

She intrigued me. I'd heard of her in school but no one pays attention to anything there. Even from this distance she'd got the looks in the family.

"Why isn't she skating?"

"Who knows. Why don't ya go and ask her, cradle snatcher? Oi, John! Dave likes your sister!"

"You keep your dirty little hands off my sister!"

"Yeah? Who's gonna stop me?"

A 6 foot brick shithouse walked over to her and kissed her.

"Him!"

List of elements for Challenges 53-78 (including Grudge Matches 5-8, Duel 1, Flash in the Pans, Impromtu relays, Genre Mash-up tests, the Spring Open, the Annual Final and extras) and Weekend Quickies 24-49

53 - The Rotarua Hot Pools, the only lost book in the world, pearl brooch, floor wax

First Annual 2014 Iron Blog Tour - iron, quill, birthday cake, 1 element from 1st challenge (changed to 1 element from all 52 challenges, all written in order within story, except for Ch. 51, with the 1 element throughout)

Duel 1 (Grudge 4) - parody of a piece of children's literature, la bella de la plata, Invasion of the Flying Vampires (from chart - DJC)

Impromptu Challenge (Dr. Seuss' birthday) - 200-500 word limit, written in the style of Dr. Seuss

54 - Ensign Chekov, scrapbooking convention, airport security, watermelon

55 (Grudge 5) - coyote, snow plow, 1936 Chevy Corvette, the Zombie Apocalypse

56 - The Curse of the Hope Diamond, deflated beach ball, hyena, a holiday in the country you have never visited

Flash in the Pan - Cerreda Medellin Blues - Jack Kerouac

Flash in the Pan - Palindrome - "I madam, I made radio! So I dared! Am I mad, am I?"

57 - 24 miniature plastic dinosaurs of various kinds, vegamite, Outside Tire Motorcyle, sewing machine

Flash in the Pan - tiny story based on 2 Shakespearean insults : "Ye Eater of Broken Meats!" and "Have fun, you embossed carbuncles!"

Daily Flash - 5 minutes : Genre - Fantasy, Start with: Audra left her sword at home that day...End with: ...and the world was safe once more.

Flash in the Pan - Describe a colour without using a colour word

58 ( TIW Spring Open Preliminary round) - A Bridge on the edge of a cliff, a kitchen apron, fruit scented lotion, your favorite karaoke song.

59 - Whack a Mole Game, bag of Body Bags, theologian, atheist

60 (TIW Spring Open Final) - Steampunk Camera, A dried, pressed rose, A glass house, A conveyor Belt

61 - lace shawl, revolving doors, image of a fire-eater on a beach at night, duct tape

62 - bunsen burner, ski lodge, cactus, bikini

Brian's Birthday Challenge - 50 words - heart-throb, airport pat down, Whitesnake lyrics

63 - cave etchings, wooden club, fur, best/worst pick up line ever

The Goatee of Neal (Impromu Relay)

64 (Annual Final) - (pet fairy, Acquired savant syndrome, letter to future self, as many homonyms as possible) Extra - 1 element from each Preliminary Round and Open Final - incubus (incubi), kitchen apron, rhinestone tiara, victim, glass house, bagpipes, Atlantis, balloon animals)

The Rotation (Impromtu relay)

Genre Mash-Up 1 Test 1

65 - Anthony E Pratt, a Room, a Weapon, a Character

66 (Grudge 6) - one of the main characters has a paper bag on their head, Rav Shaul, keywords from 8 processes of beer making in sequence, format of a radio script

Genre Mash-Up Test 2

67 - Dice, The Gods, Cocktails, Irrigation Boots

68 - Rock, paper, scissors, shaving cream

The Cat and the Monkey (Impromtu relay)

69 - the King and Queen of the Zombie Masquerade Ball, Thornwood tableware, Fly Ranch Geyser, as many Janus words as possible

70 - demolition derby, light sabres, mud wrestling, roman candles

71 (TIW Summer Open Prelim) - 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

72 - Repeated unsuccessful attempts at starting a campfire/fireplace fire, favorite childhood memory that actually is a lie, funeral of a stranger, sign "fail"

73 - lost key, travel brouchure, thermostat, Dessert topping

The Iron Writer Party Line (Impromtu relay)

74 - horse, umbrella, car battery, told from the point of view of a defense attorning invoking the Stupidity Defense. (The attorney pleas stupidity, rather than insanity)

75 (Grudge 7) - halberdier, one (and only one) of the characters must be aware of the audience, must be written entirely as dialogue, the story must take place at the Dairy Queen.

76 (Grudge 8) - A Pink Fairy Armadillo, A Mason Jar, Mount St. Helen, A Wii U

77 - A Suit of Armor, A Pitcher's Mound, Gluten Free, Locke's Socks

78 - A Poodle, A Thimble, An Alarm, Birds as Characters

Weekend Quickie 24 - image - girl playing piano in 'room tornado', element - wolf, emotion - a change of heart

Weekend Quickie 25 - image - Marie Laveau's House of Voodoo, element - Mardi Gras beads, emotion - curiousity

Weekend Quickie 26 - image - meteor/comet over Stonehenge at night, element - a message in a bottle, emotion - intrigue

Weekend Quickie 27 - image - woman sitting on bed with a bear, element - a handsome newspaperman's birthday, emotion - a feeling of anxiety brought on by the omission of a comma

Weekend Quickie 28 - image - El Rancho Motel and restaurant sign at night , element \- an arrowhead, emotion - serendipity

Weekend Quickie 29 - image - palne docked on a pier on a beach, element - 5 Iron Writers, emotion - wanderlust

Weekend Quickie 30 - image - Highway 2 sign towards Tijuana, element - yellow scorpion, emotion - indecision

Weekend Quickie 31 - image - steampunk Zepplin, element - bacon, emotion - optimism

Weekend Quickie 32 - image - bakery, element - coconut cake for Easter, emotion - inspired devotion

Weekend Quickie 33 - image - tornado, element - the far away sound of someone singing, emotion - denial

Weekend Quickie 34 - image - screaming couple with screaming baby, element - a tip from a waitress, emotion - distraction

Weekend Quickie 35 - image - "Don't go in the woods" sign in the woods, element - an errand for your mother, emotion - suspicion

Weekend Quickie 36 - image - UFO over a beach with girl and boy running, element - dandelion bracelet, emotion - incredulity

Weekend Quickie 37 - image - fireflies in a jar, element - timber rattler (rattlesnake), emotion - nostalgia

Weekend Quickie 38 - image - old woman in a kitchen with floating apples, element - lost shoes, emotion - exuberance

Weekend Quickie 39 - image - 'mermaid' / shark egg, element - cumerindine, emotion \- inspiration from a song on the radio

Weekend Quickie 40 - image - VW campervan at night, element - hitchhiker, emotion - hopeful excitement

Weekend Quickie 41 - image - bowling alley lane and balls, element - a dare, emotion - disenchantment

Weekend Quickie 42 - image - fireworks in Washington, element - a feeling of independence, emotion - synesthesia

Weekend Quickie 43 - image - people jumping from cliff into water, element - the summer after Junior Year at High School, emotion - determination

Weekend Quickie 44 - image - Shakespeare and Company bookstore in Paris, element - an artist, emotion - love at first sight

Weekend Quickie 45 - image - 59th Queensboro Bridge, New York, element - a chance encounter, emotion - thrill

Weekend Quickie 46 - image - alien baby, element - 5 years later, emotion - denial

Weekend Quickie 47 - image - 2 people with snorkels in a lake, element - Iron Writer Convention, emotion - irony

Weekend Quickie 48 - image - fawn following boz to a standing school bus, element - a forgotten rule, emotion - prescience

Weekend Quickie 49 - image - rollerskating inside venue, element - a Saturday afternoon, emotion - intrigue

Other work by Dani J Caile

All books are available on Amazon

'Dani's Shorts' (Volume 1)

'Dani's Shorts' is a collection of 500 word short stories based on the elements given in the Iron Writer Challenge. These 28 short stories show a range of Dani's favourite writing styles, including pair dialogues, internal thoughts and sardonic parodies.

<https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/351327>

'Dani's Shorts 2' (Volume 2)

Yes, it's Volume 2 of TIW shorts! Yet another collection of totally pointless exactly 500 and exactly 200 word nonsense to entertain you while doing whatever you do when reading. I hope you enjoy these short snippets just as much as you enjoyed Volume 1.

<https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/409062>

"I hope you find the stories creative, serious, humorous, filled with pointless nonsense and poignant emotions. I hope you get angry, I hope you laugh, I hope you cry. I hope you share this work with everyone you know. Isn't that what good writing is for?"

B Y Rogers (The Iron Writer Challenge)

If you are 'up to the Challenge', then go to...

<http://theironwriter.com/>

...the 1st book...

'Man by a tree'

Take a devilish romp through a world of death, where souls pay for experiences, monkeys are the hosts, and Reginald is the service provider.

Reginald has been in control for millennia. With His staff of hundreds, and millions of souls passing through to experience the delights of physicality, his reign has become complacent. His servants, Satan and Lucifer, jump at the chance to take what they see as rightfully theirs.

The Grim Reaper, or Graham Reader as he calls himself, has been doing his job of transporting souls ever since he can remember to gain his wings. But he has become tainted by the actions of the monkeys living on the planet. Unbeknown to him, a plan is afoot to change the status quo of 'up above' and 'down below', where he is a linchpin to both interested parties.

"Sharp, dark and sardonic are rarely found wrapped in single package" Greg Levin (Notes on an Orange Burial)

<https://www.createspace.com/3731273>

...the 2nd book...

'The Bethlehem Fiasco'

With only one sane man in the desert, can the answers he seeks be found? Or will it be the death of him?

In a time when hobgoblins and angels run amok, can the universe survive the petty struggles of the powers that be? Based on as yet unreleased papyrus scriptures found in a 2nd floor bedsit in Lewisham, England, this is the 'true' story of one man.

"Irreverent, quirky and fun" Fredrik Nath (The Cyclist)

"...a light and breezy read..." Iso Nuys (Paid on Return)

"I loved it!" Dave Tarragon (The Chemo Diaries)

<https://www.createspace.com/3783797>

...the 3rd...

'The Rage of Atlantis'

Bombs, angels, dolphins, hobgoblins, crazy monkeys, Reginald in a rage, Satan on the toilet...all mixed with absurdly serious issues.

Will a selfish plan for immortality destroy the human race? Or will there be light 'beyond' the end of the tunnel?

High Chief of Security Sipho, with his female dolphin sidekick Kang Dee, investigates the latest in a long line of terrorist attacks by the 'unseen' against Atlantis, the utopian gem of the physical universe, and finds more than he could have ever imagined.

"If you loved Douglas Adams, then you're bound to love Dani J. Caile!" Jasper T. Scott (Escape, Dark Space)

"Hilarious" Eponymous Rex (B.O.T.)

"Flash Gordon meets Water-world" Karen Bates (Faking it in France)

<https://www.createspace.com/3845760>

...the 4th...

'Manna-X'

Reginald sends Graham Reader (aka the Grim Reaper), out on a mission to find Code 237-Manna-X, the Manna Machine after the Overlords warn him of an imminent (3000 year old) threat against the security of both the physical and non-physical realms.

Will Graham find the fantastic yet deadly device before anyone or anything else does?

"I haven't come across anything quite like this..." Debbie Roxburgh (Speedy McCready)

"With your wily work [Dani], I tend to focus on what's in parentheses. (I also think you are very misunderstood...and possibly always have been.)" Eponymous Rox (B.O.T.)

"Manna-X is one roar of laughter after the next!" Jasper T. Scott (Escape, Dark Space)

<https://www.createspace.com/4151484>

Available on Amazon soon...

'Circuits & Steam'

(Three Fates Press)

Circuits & Steam is an anthology featuring bold tales of man meets machine. Encounter eight exciting stories from authors K.A. DaVur, Sara Marian, Brick Marlin, Thomas Lamkin, Jr., Marian Allen, Katina French, James W. Peercy and Dani J. Caile, told in a cyberpunk or steampunk style. What makes you human? In the dystopian near-future, a desperate young woman makes a stunning decision, a cybernetically-enhanced waitress discovers her true nature, a white collar worker learns the true cost of her latest technological enhancement and a streetwise urchin makes desperate a bid for freedom. What defines your destiny? We journey to a 19th century that never was for a humorous tale of airship adventure, a town under attack by mechanical monsters, a case of alchemy and mistaken identity, and a gritty adventurer faced with a telling choice. Cyberpunk and steampunk explore our often toxic relationship with technology. Do our gadgets make us more than human, or just more human? Step inside our time machine and find out....

Coming soon...

'How to build a castle in seven easy steps'

(Three Fates Press)

No one was injured in the making of this book. However, there may be some

casualties while reading.

In an ancient and long-forgotten deranged land obsessed with power, greed and

mud, one boy alone stands up to the problems around him. His is a typical story of

'boy meets girl, boy turns into soup, escapes, boy meets girl again, boy is kidnapped

and becomes the 'chosen one' for a tribe of canibalistic vampirish desire-driven

crazed warriors, boy leads them into battle, loses the chance to bed hundreds of

Amazonian women and finally wins the girl'. Come, accompany him on his fantastic

wonderful superb journey. Or follow the cat.

...and also another small freebie...

'TDX2' (Too Dull to Die)

Guido's dead, but he hasn't lived yet. Will he get a second chance? Or will Satan have his evil way?

Dull Guido has kept himself out of trouble (and life) for 34 years 5 months and 14 days, only to die on the night before he finally has his first big adventure, a world cruise. Graham Reader, the Grim Reaper, tries to help him navigate the world 'up above', only for Guido to find out that there are worse things than death - Satan's tool cupboard.

<https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/273975>

And remember, if you are 'up to the Challenge', then go to...

<http://theironwriter.com/>

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