Scene

Honey

22:30 Honey! Are you coming to bed?

Yeah! I’ll be there in a minute!

22:36 Honey! Are you coming to bed yet?

On my way, dear!

22:40 Honey! Are you…

I’m here.

Oh good. But before you get into bed, can you let the dog out?

…

22:54 Honey! Are you coming to bed soon?

The dog’s still outside!

Well get him in! I wanna snuggle!

Be there soon, dear!

23:01 Honey! Are you…

Yes.

Good. Get into bed.

… Honey, did you lock the front door?

No, didn’t you?

No.

23:09 Honey! Are you coming back to bed soon?

Be there in a minute!

What’s taking you so long?

Cat wanted in!

We don’t have a cat!

You sure?

Of course I am!

Okay! I gotta find the cat now and let him back out!

23:44 Honey! Are you coming…

I’m here.

What the hell happened to you? Where’d all those scratches come from?

The cat. It didn’t want to go out.

…Wait, what colour was the cat?

Black.

Maybe it was Blackie! I haven’t seen her since before we met! You’ve gotta go let her back in!

…

1:03 Honey! Did you find her yet?

… Honey? Honey where’d you go?

…

Honey?

…

Ugh. Men!

How Misunderstood – 100 words

“Dino?”

“Yes Dad?”

“Where’s my trailer?”

“It’s at the bottom of the hill.”

“I thought I told you to put blocks under the wheels.”

“Yeah but…”

“I was going to go get the truck to hook it up.”

“I know, Dad, but…”

“You let my trailer go down the hill by itself. Now I’ve got to go down there and dig it out of the ditch.”

“Yeah, I know, but…

“What the hell were you thinking?!”

“Well it’s what you said!”

“What I said? What did I say?”

“You told me you wanted everything today to go down without a hitch!”

Poor Frozen Willy – 100 words

“Poor frozen Willy was a chilly little guy. He normally lives somewhere warm and humid, but one day he found himself out in the cold. It turns out his owner got drunk and…”

“Honey?”

“Yeah, Babe?”

“Why does every story you tell me before bed have to be about your penis?”

“Who said it’s about my penis? It’s actually about a penguin.”

“A penguin who lives somewhere warm?”

“Sure.”

“…”

“Okay. I’m just trying to get you in the mood.”

“Talking about your cold little penis is not going to do the trick.”

“Hmm… A poor but massive and overheated horse…”

Good night

Scene
Two dark rooms, split screen: Julien lay on his bed, on his back, with the phone to his left ear. Maisy lay on her bed, on her back, with the phone to her right ear.

Maisy: Good night darling.

Julien: Are we hanging up now?

Maisy: (sighs) I have to get up early to go to work.

Julien: I guess you need your beauty sleep.

Maisy: (frowns) Are you saying I’m ugly if I don’t get enough sleep?

Julien: NO! No baby, calm… I mean I didn’t mean that at all.

Maisy: (snorts)

Julien: I’ll let you get your sleep. I love you, baby.

Maisy: I love you too.

Julien: Good night.

Maisy: Good night then.

Julien: Don’t let the bed bugs bite.

Maisy: (sits up) Bed bugs! Are you saying you left bed bugs here last time you stayed over?!?

Julien: NO! No way, baby! You gotta calm…

Maisy: Don’t you freakin’ tell me to calm down, asshole!

Julien: NO! I didn’t mean calm down, I meant…

Maisy: ‘Coz you KNOW how I hate it when you tell me to calm down!

Julien: (trying to get in a word edgewise) Baby…

Maisy: Calm down? I have bed bugs in my bed and you’re telling me to calm down?

Julien: No, baby…

Maisy: (standing beside her bed) What kind of crazy freakin’ asshole are you anyways?

Julien: Baby…

Maisy: (nostrils flaring, breathing heavy)

Julien: Baby? Are you still there?

Maisy: What!?

Julien: Baby there’s no bed bugs. No bed bugs. It’s just a saying.

Maisy: …

Julien: (timidly) Are you okay?

Maisy: (plops down on the bed, nostrils still flaring. Speaks sharply) I guess.

Julien: I… gotta go. I’ve gotta get up early too.

Maisy: Oh, now you gotta get up early and I’m probably going to me up all night.

Julien: …sorry. Can I have a little kiss?

Maisy: (snorts)

Julien: Just a little bitty kiss from my hunny bun?

Maisy: (relaxes) Okay. (makes kissing noise)

Julien: I love you hunny bun.

Maisy: (giggles)

Julien: (like he’s speaking to a child) I love you my hunny bunny baby.

Maisy: I love you too.

Julien: Okay. Good night then.

Maisy: Good night.

Julien: Sleep tight.

Maisy: I beg your pardon?

Julien: I said… sleep tight?

Maisy: (angry) Are you calling me a loose woman?!

Julien: (holds phone away from his ear and looks at it. Hangs up.)

wtf?

“Wait.”

“Wait what?”

“That.”

“That what?”

“That!”

“That what? What are you talking about, man?”

“Can’t you taste that?”

“Taste… what? We’re walking down the street, we’re not even eating anything… what the fuck?”

“Calm down, man. I guess I had some pepper left over from dinner.”

“And why the fuck should I be able to taste it?”

“Well it was kinda strong.”

JusJoJan the 30th – An- (#SoCS)

Antoinette Ant thought to write an anthology. Her fellow ants told her, “You can’t do that! You’re just an ant!” But Antoinette replied, “Ah, but I am a French ant! And I am also the Aunt of the King!”

So Antoinette bought a typewriter. She wrote of feats unheard of, where gallant ant warriors heaved seeds, and dead wasps that wouldn’t even fit through the door of the castle, and rocks the size of pebbles to build the greatest homes in the land. And then she sent her anthology off to be published.

And she waited.

And she waited.

Until one day Antoinette heard back from a publishing house that was interested… in her warriors. For a cat had knocked down their house.

The “an-” prompt is brought to you by Stream of Consciousness Saturday. Click here to join in today!

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JJJ 2016

JusJoJan the 16th – What (#SoCS)

“What’s going on?” she asks as if there’s nothing wrong. But there is, of course, something terrible about to happen in my shorts. She forgot to remind me to go potty… She’s going to be mad. But then again, that’s typical of my wife.

The “what” prompt (and this purely stream of consciousness wtf? story) is brought to you by Stream of Consciousness Saturday. Click here to join in today!

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JusJoJan the 9th – Entitled (#SoCS)

“I really hate blind dates,” said Gertrude as she sat across the table from her blind date in a posh restaurant with candles on every table. She dug in to her baked potato as though it was a mound of dirt, piled beside an open grave. Clearly she was more the drive-thru type.

“Then why did you come?” Victor asked reasonably.

Gertrude shrugged her neon green fleece-clad shoulders. “Never had lobster before.”

Victor had an idea. “You know, if they don’t cook the lobster enough it will come back to life and bite you.”

His date dropped her fork. With a clatter it bounced off the plate and onto the floor. Victor plucked his napkin off his lap and dabbed the corner of his mouth as he stared at her plate. “I think I saw it twitch.”

“You’re fucking with me.”

“No. Seriously. I…” He stopped a passing waiter – the one who had, in fact, placed their meals on the table. “Did you see that?”

“See what, Sir?”

“I think the lady’s lobster is still alive.”

He saw a slight grin on the waiter’s face. “Oh dear, not again. I’ll inform the chef.”

“Get someone out here to catch it first, would you?” Victor said. “I think it’s going to jump.”

With that, Gertrude stood. The waistband of her track pants caught the tablecloth and lifted it, flipping the plate clean off the table onto the floor. She ran, shrieking from the restaurant. Victor didn’t follow her.

“Thanks, mate,” he said to the waiter. “I’ll add a little extra to the tip.”

“Not at all, Sir,” said the waiter as he hurried off to find someone to catch the lobster, which was presently chasing off the remaining women diners.

Note: Other than the title of this post, it had nothing to do with the title of anything at all.

The “title” prompt is brought to you by Stream of Consciousness Saturday. Click here to join in today!

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Achtung Baby (SoCS & JusJoJan)

Achtung Baby

The stage is set, the players, all fifteen of them, stand in the wings, waiting to go on. All are naked; some are bold, most are nervous. Among them, Armand is one of the youngest at twenty-one tender years of age. As he follows a woman of forty out onto the platform, he wills his body into submission, not wishing to show more of himself than he must. He wishes briefly that he had cut his hair so as not to be as conspicuous. He is aware of the soft strands brushing against his buttocks as he takes stage left.

___________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Notes in hand, textbooks tucked under her seat, Zelda sits in the audience among one hundred and fifty of her colleagues. Pen poised, her eyes drift over the bodies on stage, coming to rest upon the lithe, shy man at stage left. He scans the front row not lifting his gaze, probably lest he realizes just how many eyes are upon he and his fellow subjects. It never seems to matter to them that their audience is comprised of physicians whose interest in them is entirely clinical. It was, for Zelda, until today.

She shifts to the edge of her seat, staring at him. Willing him to look up to her fifth row seat. She has fallen in love, for as much good as it will do. Contact between physician and subject in this particular venue is forbidden. Getting backstage would be more difficult than breaching security at a rock concert.

Ignoring the rest of the class she stares only at him. When it is his turn to step forward she gasps involuntarily.

He looks up at her and a faint smile crosses his lips.

Perhaps in the next lifetime.

 

This post is part of SoCS. The prompt today is Scene/seen. Please join in! http://lindaghill.com/2015/01/30/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-january-3115/

badge by Doobster @ Mindful Digressions

badge by Doobster @ Mindful Digressions

And… AND… JusJoJan!! http://lindaghill.com/2015/01/20/jusjojan-day-21-30-prompt/

JJJ 2015

The Interview

“All right then Mr. Jones, everything looks good. We’ll be contacting you within the next two weeks to let you know if you’ve got the job.”

“Thank you so much. I look forward to hearing from yo…”

“Oh! One other thing. I keep forgetting to ask this question. New protocol and all.”

“Yes?”

“Tell me, Mr. Jones. How many times per day do you urinate?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“How many times per day do you urinate?”

“Um… about three?”

“Excellent. We’ll let you know then. Thank you for applying for a job at Google.”