Judges This Week: Mars and Si
Word Count: 300 max
How: Submit your stories as a comment to this post, along with your name, word count, and title (and Twitter handle or blog if you've got 'em!). One entry per person.
Deadline: Midnight tonight, PDT!
Results announced: Next Wednesday afternoon.
Remember: Your entry must begin with the prompt! The prompt can be mutilated, but not beyond recognition. (Pictures do not need to be incorporated into your stories, they're for inspiration (and sometimes our amusement)).
Prompt
“It’s a bad plan, but curse it, if there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s making bad plans work!”
The Fixer
ReplyDelete300 words
@el_Stevie
#FlashDog
“It’s a bad plan, but curse it, if there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s making bad plans work,” said Jack.
“I’m relying on you,” said Charteris, MP for Nether Piddling.
His secretary smiled. He prided himself on being The Fixer as Marcia called him.
“Pub, Jack?” Marcia, lovely little thing. He could prattle on for hours and she remained clueless. And she was always making notes; declared he was her mentor, that she wanted to learn from him. He reached out to pat her hand, where …?
She was weaving her way through the crowded bar towards the Party Chairman. Now she was showing him something. He was smiling, nodding; an arm round her shoulders.
Jack sighed. He’d missed his chance. Tomorrow he would see the Chairman, explain how he was going to save Charteris’ seat, and perhaps it was about time they let him stand?
He didn’t get his chance.
“Jones, this won’t do.” Charteris was tapping his watch. “Luckily young Marcia was on hand to greet Norman, even came up with a capital plan to get us out of our latest little mess.”
Jack listened in horror as he heard his own words repeated back to him.
“You know Marcia’s been worried about you, suggested a short sabbatical. And I agree.” Norman waved away Jack’s protestations. “Thank Marcia. She even offered to take your place on our London jaunt until you recover. Remarkable girl. Wouldn’t be surprised if the PM didn’t agree to finding her a seat in the election.
The phone rang. “That’s Marcia,” said Charteris. “Our car’s ready, best get a move on. Time and tide, eh?”
He shook hands with Jones who could only watch as they drove slowly away. In the back seat a slight figure turned round and blew him a kiss.
Phillip Urlevich
ReplyDelete@LillFill2
"Henry Hobson"
300 words
"Its a bad plan, but curse it, if there's one thing I'm good at, it's making bad plans work." said Jack
It was Monday. Henry Hobson was in his home attending his wares, oblivious to anything outside his world.
He walked back to his room and suddenly found himself staring at a stranger. The stranger looked at him intensely, almost as if he anticipating Henry would appear at that exact moment and was now at his mercy.
But he didn’t do anything.
Both sides stared at each other, expecting the other to do something.
Finally
“Hello David” Henry said.
“Henry Hobson” David said. “It’s been a long time, the last time we spoke you made certain promises, but as of yet you have fulfilled none of them.”
Henry replied “Things happened, I’ve been busy.”
David stepped closer. “That’s not satisfactory. We planned this for some time, and to say you haven’t because you’re busy is unacceptable.”
Henry shrugged.”I don’t know what else to tell you David.”
“You needn’t say anything. You can start by making amends by completing it.”
Henry “Works been kind of slow, my last paycheck was low.”
“Charge it to your credit card, after it’s all over nothing will matter anyway.”
Henry nodded. “Of course it’s on me, you never took the risk, you always reaped the rewards while I cleaned the mess.”
David nodded “Of course, when you’re the brains of any particular operation you deserve to have the lion’s share of the credit. Now, this back and forth has gone nowhere fast. I need you to get the necessary items so the finale to this event will be momentous.”
“This will be a day no one will forget for a long time.”Henry agreed.
“Yes. Mother will enjoy it. Now go and get the items.” David said.
Henry was looking at his mirror. He straightened out his suit and tie, and went on his way.
Her First Rodeo - 298 Words
ReplyDeleteBy Sara Codair
@shatteredsmooth
www.SaraCodair.com
“It’s a bad plan, but if there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s making bad plans work!” said Joe.
The Cantina was dark place that reeked of stale beer. Horrid country was barely audible over the drunken shouts of ranchers - exactly the kind of place their quarry would hide.
“We’re gonna get killed,” muttered Molly. She was rookie, fresh out of the academy. “Every man in here is carrying a gun.”
Molly wasn’t wrong about the guns, but Joe was unconcerned. They were a crucial part of his plan. He walked straight to the the counter and order a shot of whisky before shouting, “I’m looking for Greggor Tams. First one to give me intel gets fifty bucks.”
The men froze. Conversation ceased. The automated singer crooned about losing his wife, truck, and hamster while the click of safeties switching off improved the melody.
“We ain’t snitches,” said a man whose face resembled a raisen.
Joe grinned. No face matched his quarry’s, so he examined each gun and hand carefully, focusing on a gleaming silver pistol, held by a blue-tinted hand. Alien magic could create some good illusions, but the flaws always showed closest to objects from their home-worlds, especially laser-pistols.
He knew Molly had spotted it when she fainted.
“I ain’t askin nobody to snitch,” shouted Joe. “just wanted to see how my apprentice held under pressure.”
“She didn’t hold at all,” laughed raisin face, putting his gun away.
“Next round’s on me.” Joe slipped three bills to the bartender, picked Molly up and carried her to his truck, careful to bump his quarry on the way out and plant a tracking device.
Molly sat up as the pulled onto the road. “I can’t believe that worked. The fainting act is the oldest trick in the book.”
The Plan
ReplyDelete299 words
@b_j_langley
http://benjaminlangley.blog.com/
“It’s a bad plan, but curse it, if there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s making bad plans work!” said the friar.
“What do you mean it’s a bad plan?” asked the young lady, holding the vial of viscous liquid at arm’s length.
“There’s nothing wrong with the potion. That’ll put you to sleep no problem.”
“Will I wake up again?”
“Yes” said the friar, looking sheepishly at the floor. “Probably.”
“What do you mean probably?”
“The instructions are weirdly specific. They say you’ll wake in forty-two hours, but don’t specify the dosage. Can we really trust that?”
“So you think I shouldn’t take it?” said the girl, offering the potion back.
“Take it. Worst case scenario is that you die, and you were willing to kill yourself anyway,” said the friar with a shrug.
“No, the worst case scenario is that I don’t die, and have to marry a man I don’t love.” She places the vial back on the table.
“Well if you wake up, and if you’re not dead, you can kill yourself then. That’ll work!” The friar picks the vial up, and presses it into the girl’s hand.
“Okay. I’ll take it. And you’ll let my beloved know so that he can be there when I wake?”
“Yes,” said the friar after a moment’s hesitation.
“You don’t sound convincing.”
“Well… there are other families in Verona, you know. I have my fingers in many pies.”
“Then how will my beloved know what’s happening?”
“I’ll send a letter.”
“Is that reliable?”
“Even if he doesn’t get it, what’s the worst that can happen?”
“I don’t know. Maybe I wake in a sealed tomb, with all of my dead ancestors, nobody comes to rescue me, and I suffocate to death.”
“Chill, Juliet. Romeo will get the message.”
This is awesome! I love the conversation! :) Nice work.
DeleteDanny Fanger, the Last of the Luke-Warm Lotharios
ReplyDelete“It’s a bad plan, but curse it, if there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s making bad plans work.”
I’m shaking my head as Danny continues to delude himself. It’s not easy seeing an old friend spin his lover-boy wheels in the mud of desperation.
“Sammy,” I yell to Sammy, the pubmeister at Pete Chicory’s Tavern, “another round.”
I point my pinkie, do an air circle at Danny, me and the third member of our dismal trio, Allie Waters.
“Comin’ up,” he yells back.
Allie jumps in with her indefatigable feminine logic. “Danny, do we have to remind you about the conditions of the restraining order? It’s pretty damn clear.”
And there it is, the fly on the zipper, always needing a little more ointment then he can muster. Danny has already professed his love to Thalia Wonderbee more times than Mormons once had wives.
I won’t say he has stalked her.
Others have, but I won’t.
I blame high school. Mixing boys and girls together. For many of us, it doesn’t present much of a problem. For schnooks like Danny Fanger, proximity is poison. I remember that first Sadie Hawkins Day dance. Danny was already mooning over Thalia. I didn’t blame him. She was pretty much at the top of the Walkersville social elite. Pretty, cheerleader, crackerjack student. Danny? He wasn’t even on the list.
So, at that November dance, he went full bore; did everything but backflips to get Thalia to choose him to dance with. The cold-hearted wench looked right through him, like he was cellophane.
“This one’ll work, Allie. I chain myself to her fence. She’s gotta see me then, right?”
“She’ll see you, Danny boy,” Allie fires back accurately, “when the fellows with the net haul your ass away.”
More beer arrives.
Danny keeps planning.
300 moonstruck moments, edited twice would you believe!
@billmelaterplea
Name: Sarai Manning
ReplyDeleteBlog: www.sarahssaga.weebly.com
Word Count: 299
Title: 100% A Bad Plan
“It’s a bad plan, but curse it. If there’s one thing I’m good at it’s making bad plans work,” Colin whispered laying beneath the holly bush.
“Or...” I mumbled, “we just go out and try to explain. It was a stupid dare.” I felt the leaves’ spikes were carving scars of criminality into my skin. It didn’t matter if we made it back without getting caught, one look at my shirt, shredded from the blood-thirsty shrubbery and I would be in jailed or grounded.
“Adventure awaits, Brad!” He crawled forward. I wanted to protest, but was afraid to reveal our location to the men searching the bushes. I shuffled behind before stumbling to my feet. I didn’t have much time to think about what would happen next because when I stood to ask, Colin punched me. It was like a Saturday morning cartoon, birds seemed to be flying around my head and my lip must have swelled ten sizes.
Amidst my groaning, I could hear voices, mainly Colin’s.
”You see, sir, my friend here, loves Savannah Parker, a girl in our class who over there. Tonight, he got a little… intense… and decided he wanted to confess. Anyways, her boyfriend found him and punched him. I was certain he was going to kill him!. So, we jumped the fence and hid under until we were safe.”
It had was the worst plan ever, I was in pain and they knew we were lying… The guardsmen looked between us. Surprisingly, in the next moment, they were letting us go. Perhaps, they didn’t want be bothered with the paperwork. Maybe there was some mild respect for me getting punched? Colin bragged afterwards that bad plans are 80% hope, 10% confidence, and 10% pity. It’s a pity I didn’t punch him first.