Dani's Shorts 5

by Dani J Caile

"I'm not sure about that, I'm C of E, myself," said Edwin/Ellie. "I dunno... will He protect me too?"

  "I'm cheap, very cheap."

  "I'm sure you are, darling, all those extra sessions in confession," he chuckled.

  "Do we have a deal?"

  Edwin/Ellie searched in his/her purse. "Strange, I'm positive I put some cash in here earlier. All I can find are these..." He/she took out three pennies. Suzie sighed and shook her head.

  "Okay, but you must promise to say three Hail Marys afterwards."

  Weekend Quickie 106

  The Chicken Dance, Three Iron Writers (to be named by you), a hot dog eating contest. 200 words

  Christopher and Michael were doing the Chicken dance once again.

  Four bottles of whiskey, three crates of Bud, and a two hour long hotdog eating contest had degenerated into Michael getting out his daughter's karaoke machine and the two of them, completely stone drunk, prancing around and singing anything that came up on the screen.

  "Nobody here but us chickens!" shouted Christopher, interrupting the song. He nudged Michael and his dancing partner fell over, never to get up again that night. Mathew, still in his helmet due to some unforeseen Iron Writer Protection Program restrictions laid down in the early days, sat on the sofa and watched, sober. He'd been there since the beginning of this farce.

  "Let's call it a night, eh, Chris?" asked Mathew, going into the kitchen to fetch yet another glass of water.

  "Night? Night! We've only just begun, eh, Michael? And some of us haven't even started yet!"

  Mathew put his filled glass of water on the table, and as he was turning around to sit back down on the sofa, Christopher poured its contents into a flower pot and refilled it with vodka.

  "Well, I think I’d better…" Mathew swallowed the contents. "…start! Way-hey!"

  Weekend Quickie 107 (Sunday)

  Brian Rogers singing “Brown-Eyed Girl” , A Mountaintop, A can of beans. 200 Words

  "Do you remember when..." Brian Rogers sang his heart out at the Annual Iron Writer Challenge Bring and Buy Get Together and Sell Your Old Crap Garage Karaoke Night, swinging his hips and juggling the microphone. The other Iron Writers sat huddled around the only outdoor patio heater still working in the 'She Sells Seashells Seafood restaurant situated on a mountaintop.

  "I think that's the fourth time he's sung "Brown-Eyed Girl" tonight," said Christina / Tina / Rupert / Bob / Daphne.

  "Better than his rendition of "Blurred Lines", at least we won't see DL twerking him again," muttered Samuel.

  "It would've been better if Zwissler did it, rather than Mackenzie," said Michael, his teeth chattering. "I still have a bad taste in the mouth."

  "It must've been Richard's rhubard and raspberry pie," said Mathew, holding onto his stomach, trying not to topple over and lose his helmet. "Is the toilet soundproof?"

  "No, it was definitely the twerking," replied Michael.

  The patio heater gave a splutter as the gas tank ran out. The flame slowly died down to a mass of moans.

  "Oh hell! What are we gonna do now?" wailed Jordan.

  Dani took out a can of beans and held it aloft. "Behold!"

  Weekend Quickie 108

  Image of the “describe your perfect date/April 25th” question/answer, A gopher, A pudding cup, and a Beaver that can not build a dam. 200 words

  With white knuckles, the host held his clipboard and smiled at the cameras. It was going as well as it could. Slightly above abysmal. Bob and Dave were on the jury and had a hard time holding themselves together. At any moment they could burst out laughing at the braindead answers Miss Utah was giving to the usual dull questions.

  "So, please, Carminia..." The boys cracked up at every mention of her name. "Please describe your perfect date."

  "That would be December the 25th, when I get Christmas presents."

  The audience didn't know whether to laugh or cry. Bob and Dave huddled together and conferred.

  "Have you seen those teeth? I've seen smaller teeth on a gopher," laughed Bob.

  "And that chest of hers, I think two pudding cups would do," said a mean Dave.

  "Oh, but hey man, has she got a beaver, or what? And I'm talking about one that can't build a dam. She's got more hair than a Greek Orthodox football team!"

  Dave stopped laughing. "You slept with her?"

  "Duh, yeah? And like you didn't hide the salami with Miss Montana over there."

  A stumpy, blind, smiling dorky girl waved over to Dave.

  "Okay, fair game."

  Weekend Quickie 109 (Sunday) (110 Sunday)

  A song to the tune of the Alphabet song must be written with the following concepts below: Monkey Wrench, Dog Show, A Vibrating Toy, and A Skunk (Alphabet Song — word count (approx. 39 words (syllables))

  If you take my monkey wrench,

  I will stick you in a trench.

  I’ll get your vibrating toy

  Or your skunk, that is my ploy.

  Then we’ll go see a dog show,

  That’ll make your brain go slow.

  Weekend Quickie 110 (109)

  Spongebob Squarepants, A skillet, A grandma wearing a tutu, 200 words

  "Look, I'm not a chef, don't blame me," said Tony. "I'm no Spongebob Squarepants who can whip up a crabby patty in the blink of an eye. I need some time to get... acclimatized to the situation... now, where is the flour?" He searched the kitchen, opening all the cupboard doors but finding nothing.

  "We all have to do our part, Tony. She's your grandma. We made a deal, today I have to take the kids to the performance, while you make your grandma her usual morning pancakes." She grabbed the car keys and headed for the door.

  "Okay, okay, that's fine, but where's the skillet?" Tony stood there, an apron half-tied around his waist. She came back, sorted out the knot and took down the skillet from the rack.

  "Anything else? Kids! We're off!"

  "Okay, mum!" came a reply from upstairs.

  Grandma walked into the room from the garden, a fairy wand in one hand, a plastic tiara in her hair and wearing a ballet outfit, complete with shoes and tutu.

  "I've just been over to the neighbors and wished the dog away. Damn barking kept me awake all night."

  "Yes, grandma. Any idea where the maple syrup is?"

  Weekend Quickie 111 (Sunday)

  Big Screen TV, The Avengers, Grilled Cheese Sandwich, The Red Sea. 150 Words

  “But come on, I want a ‘Big Screen TV’ that takes up the whole wall so I can watch ‘The Avengers’ and ‘The Age of Ultron’ on.,.on…on a ‘Big Screen TV’! Just like in the cinema! And have big whopping speakers to get that big fat Dolby Surround Sound!”

  “The chances of you getting a ‘Big Screen TV’ are the same as you parting the Red Sea.”

  “What do I work all week for, eh? So I can come home every night and watch some shit on this measly piece of crap!” Tucker threw his empty beer can at the television, narrowly missing the screen and hitting the cat. “Why can’t I finish my day watching a ‘Big Screen TV’?’

  ‘Because you work at Walmart.”

  “Oh yeah.” Tucker sighed and flicked the channel.

  “You want a grilled cheese sandwich?”

  Tucker sat there, watching a ‘Friends’ repeat. “Yeah, alright.”

  Weekend Quickie 112

  A christmas tree made from books, A crazy cat lady, A half-eaten burrito. 250 words

  He pulled the sticky, wet half-eaten burrito out from the Christmas tree.

  "Who the hell put that there? Darling?"

  'Yes?" His wife came in, dressed in the full riot gear.

  "What the hell are you wearing?"

  "Ready for the onslaught." She showed him a few moves with her shield.

  "What the hell are you doing?"

  "You say that a lot, dear." She relaxed her pose, but wore the helmet.

  "What the hel...?"

  "What's going on?"

  "Yes."

  She flopped down on the s
ofa, almost bouncing back up.

  "Your mother, the crazy cat lady is coming over for Christmas dinner. I thought I'd get ready."

  He sat opposite her, dropping the dripping half-eaten burrito on the coffee table.

  "Oh, is that where I left it? I couldn't find it, thanks." She tried to grab it but her riot gear gloves kept getting in the way.

  "You...you've ruined my tree!"

  "Ruined it? I just added some meat to the cheese, that's all." They both laughed. He'd seen the photo on Facebook, someone had made a Christmas tree from books, but he thought he'd go one further, only using John Green, Stephen King, Dan Brown and Stephanie Meyer books, not forgetting any other Bestseller he could find in the charity shops.

  "Hang on, I'll get something." He ran out of the room and came back with a dozen cans of cat food. They looked at each other with glee. He began opening all the cans while she poured the contents over the tree.

  Weekend Quickie 113 (Sunday)

  Mother’s Day, A dragon, A Knight going commando, And a sausage on a stick. 230 words or more.

  "Well, I didn't think this was going to be so special, thank you, son," said George's mother, looking over the people who appeared at her surprise Mother's Day barbecue.

  "Always the best for my mother," said George, holding a plateful of meat snacks and offering them to the guests.

  "There's King Arthur from Camelot, and Mr Braveheart with the three sisters from Scotland, and look, there's the dragon. Aren't you meant to kill him, George?" she asked, taking a salty biscuit with cheese.

  "Oh no, mother, we've overcome our differences. We had some drinks, talked it over and he promised to be good."

  A princess with her entourage dropped a handkerchief. George, being a knight, had put on his Sunday best suit of armour for the occasion. He bent over to pick up the handkerchief and his mother yelped.

  "Oh, George, I know you're a knight, but did you have to 'go commando', too?"

  George stood up quickly, embarrassed. Some of the guests had also noticed and chuckled amongst themselves. George handed back the handkerchief, only for the princess to walk away, laughing with her friends.

  "It's a hot day, mother, I like to feel the wind down there, cools me down."

  "I've seen bigger sausages on a stick!" shouted the dragon to much applause.

  George steamed away in his helmet.

  "Mark my words, mother, that dragon’s days are numbered!"

  Weekend Quickie 114

  You are the newest member of the boy band “The New Kids on the Block” for their comeback tour– Jelly beans, A jar of rat pellets, Your mother. 150 words

  "Yes! I got it!" Bobby bounced up and down on his bed, holding the letter of acceptance as a band member of 'New Kids on the Block' for their new huge comeback tour. He jumped over to the wardrobe and picked up his bag, all prepared and ready to go. There was a knock at the door. "Who is it?"

  "The Police. Open up."

  Bobby froze. What was wrong now? He was on the edge of stardom...he opened the door.

  "Yes?"

  "Are you Bobby Dumkompoof?"

  "Yes...?"

  "The same Booby Dumkompoof who gave jelly beans to Danny Wood, a member of 'New Kids on the Block'?"

  "Yes..." The game was up.

  "Jelly beans which were in fact a jar of rat pellets?"

  "Yes..."

  "I hereby arrest you for poisoning Danny Wood."

  Bobby held out his hands.

  "Who told you?"

  "Your mother. She didn't want you to embarass yourself on stage."

  Weekend Quickie 115 (Sunday)

  Lemon, Soda vs Pop, 250 words, Johnny Carson, Anne Frank

  The lemon hit me straight in the forehead.

  "What the...?" Lemons are hard, especially when thrown at high speed by your girlfriend.

  "I've had enough!" She stormed out of the kitchen and went into the bedroom. By the time I'd rubbed my injury better, she'd packed a bag.

  "Honey, what are you doing?"

  "I'm leaving! I've had enough of you!" She searched through the bookshelves for treasures, including that ugly brown copy of Anne Frank's Diary and began flinging our ripped DVDs around the room, taking out her "Friends" and "24". A DVD filled with Johnny Carson's old shows from the 80s hit me in the eye.

  "What did I do?"

  She threw the books and DVDs into another traveling case and made for the door. I frantically picked up the mess she'd left on the floor, checking to see whether she'd damaged any of my precious "Monkey Magic" rips. She hadn't, they were still safely in their case.

  "It's enough that you're a Raiders fan and I'm a Chiefs, AND that your guys beat us last time..."

  "Well, I am from California," I replied, now rubbing my eye.

  "And putting lemon in my tea when you darn well know that I HATE lemon..."

  "Sorry, force of habit. You usually make the tea first and then I add lemon."

  "But, but THEN, goddamn! THEN you ask for a POP?!"

  "All I said was, can I have a soda?"

  "I HATE you!" She slammed the door and the flat was empty.

  Weekend Quickie 116

  Start with: It was 2:30 in the morning… Elements: Grey Goose Vodka, Peanut M&Ms and Cher. 200 Words

  It was 2:30 in the morning and I was still hanging over the cold, white toilet bowl, feeling sick, feeling tired, wishing I hadn’t drunk that last glass of Grey Goose Vodka down at the club. It may well be the most expensive and greatest tasting vodka on the market but one brand is just as good as another when you’ve had one too many. I almost made it to bed, too, if it hadn’t been for that opened pack of stale peanut M&Ms I spotted on the sideboard. They surely didn’t help my stomach, either, but when you’re desperately hungry and completely sloshed, you’ll try anything. I blame it all on that Cher-lookalike at the club, jeering me on to drink “just one more”. Her long black curly hair swishing across her lushous smile captivated me into splashing out and acting like a jerk in front of the regulars by succumbing to her whim and ordering the best the bar had. And what did I get at the end of the night? One final laugh from her lips as she left with another guy. Still, one positive thing from tonight. I won’t ever need to drink vodka again.

  Weekend Quickie 116 (19 worder)

  It was 2.30 in the morning: Grey Goose Vodka, peanut M&Ms and Cher blasting from my stereo. Fan-tastic!

  Weekend Quickie 117 (Sunday)

  Start with...Jenna left the oven on…

  Elements: Rubbing alcohol, Kerosene, a missing baby, Blake Shelton’s Redneck song.

  Jenna left the oven on when she took out the roadkill. It wasn't her fault, what with her redneck brother's moonshine mix of kerosene and rubbing alcohol churning around inside her gut. We found her in the nick of time, flat on her back, the place full of gas, both from herself and the oven, and singing Blake Sheldon's "Boys 'Round Here". Slightly out of tune, I might add. But completely understandable. The news of her missing baby was all across the trailer park.

  Weekend Quickie 118

  Start with…The knight held the rook between his thumb and forefinger…and end with…. And that was the last of Eden. 250 words.

  The knight held the rook between his thumb and forefinger. Tempting though it was to place it on the seventh rank, knowing the supremacy of that position, the chance of capturing his opponent's queen in two moves was overpowering. Was the beast on the other side of the board that blind to see it? The right flank was wide open to attack and the king was hemmed in by his bishops and pawns.

  "What are you waiting for, ducky? Too hot in that iron suit of yours?" grinned the devil.

  He had to try it, for the sake of humanity. He placed his rook.

  From what seemed like nowhere, the devil moved one pawn, a pawn, a single insignificant little pawn one square and the game was over. Checkmate. In despair, the knight dropped his helmeted head to the table with a crash, disrupting the playing board.

  "It seems your quest is o
ver, ducky. You have lost the game and so lost our little deal. Not only are you now stuck in a time not your own, and when your death comes, your soul is mine, but history repeats itself, as I of course, knew it would." He motioned the knight to turn his head towards the scene of a naked man and woman standing at an apple tree. A snake slithered down the trunk and whispered something to the woman, who, with almost no hesitation, took an apple and bit into it.

  And that was the last of Eden.

  Weekend Quickie 119

  Hot-rollers, a hippy, a 357 magnu. 150 words.

  Zeth held the barrel of his 357 Magnum up the old hippy's nose. "What the hell did you do?" he screamed, ripping off the cutting gown and standing up from the chair. The others kept their distance, watching the action.

  "What's wrong, man?" whispered the hippy, putting up his hands to pacify Zeth.

  "What's wrong? Just look at it!" Zeth pulled at his hair while looking in the wall mirror.

  "Peace, man, be cool, be cool."

  "Peace? Cool? My hair! It's a disaster! It's ruined! You're gonna pay for this, you damn hippy!"

  "But...but...I used the hot-rollers, like you said, man, yeah?" murmured the hippy, holding up a few to prove his point. Zeth hit the rollers away onto the floor and aimed the magnum once again.

  "Yeah, but for CLASSIC CURLS, not BOUNCY WAVES!" He pulled back the hammer and forced the gun to the hippy's head.

  Weekend Quickie 120

  The North Star, The Jonas Brothers, an unlikely romance

  They lay on the bonnet of his Plymouth Fury convertible, holding hands and gazing up at the North Star.

  "Oh, darling, it's so wonderful to be here with you. I'm so so sorry I had to do it all like this, but my love for you knows no barriers."

  "I understand. And I forgive you for all you did, my love."

  "I needed to do it, to be with you, to hold you. Oh, when I remember that time back in Minneapolis..."

  "Yes, that was a good night."

  "...at the last Jonas Brothers concert. I turned to you and we had an identical tear in our eyes when Joe finished a refrain. Ah, that was a moment to cherish."

  "Every moment with you has been one to cherish."

  George looked deep into his partner's eyes. "Osama, all I’ve ever done in my life, is make my way here to you."