Saturday, November 28, 2015

Hazardous Record

A small teaser for the Nano project. Inspired by a prompt from Master Class Monday at Our Write Side

Trey listened to RJ’s plan with only half of his attention. The third of their cohorts, Clarence, was in the corner of the tent unconscious. 

Their captors had left them to stew for more time than he’d expected. Probably hoping one or another would cook up some escape plan and create an excuse to beat them up again.  Trey preferred not to go that route. 

“Dude, are you even listening to me?” RJ punched him in the arm.

“Yeah, and I’m thinking.” Trey muttered.

RJ rolled his eyes, “Your thinking is interfering with the listening.” He got up and paced the small confines of the tent.

“Well, whatever we decide, we should wait for Clarence to wake up.” Trey walked over to check on his friend for the tenth time in the last hour. “He seems to be breathing okay.” Trey prodded him gently, He was answered with a groan and shift in position, but nothing more.

RJ looked on, “are you sure you want his opinion? He has a hazardous record in the planning thing. That’s why were stuck in here instead of back home at dinner with our families.”

Trey shrugged, “we could have said no. We made our own decisions.”

“I would've made a different decision if I’d know it meant traveling to a different dimension full of demons and spider people.” RJ gave Trey a look that dared him to disagree.

Tuesday, November 10, 2015

Fifteen Minutes...or so

Although I'm in the middle of the chaos that is Nanowrimo, I couldn't resist revisiting Joe and Charlie. I hope Amanda doesn't roll her eyes too much as I used her prompt "fifteen minutes of fame" from Coldly Calculating over at Our Write Side.  

Lily had several jobs for her enthralled demons. Joe and Charlie were starting to get desperate to escape.

“How’re we gonna get outta this, Joe?”

“Shut up! Let me think.”

“You been thinkin’ for weeks.”

“You been whinin’ for weeks!”

Charlie sighed heavily, “I don’t know how much more I can take, Joe.”

“I know, Charlie, I know. Ill figure it out, I promise.”

That evening Lily summoned them for another of her little tasks, as she called them. She gleefully spelled out the directions for this latest adventure then stood grinning as the star stud in her nose whirled wildly.

“You want us to rob a bank?!? Joe was incredulous.

Charlie was merely mortified, “No no no, this is not happening, it’s a dream. A very bad dream.”

“Yes, I want you to rob a bank.” Lily giggled. “And you'll do it, not like you have a choice or anything,”

Charlie continued to mumble, “Oh man oh man. This is so embarrassing.”

“Come along, pets, to the pentagram, I need to get you delivered.”

Several candles and an incantation later, the two found themselves materializing in the empty lobby of a nearby bank.

“Why didn’t she just put us in the vault, now we have to blast it open before we can get ‘poofed’ back to prison.” Another heavy sigh and slump of shoulder and Charlie headed toward the vault, tail dragging behind.

“Charlie, hold up!”

“What Joe? I just wanna get this ov…”

“No! I got it? Look up there Charlie.”

“What? Where?”

“Up there, security cameras!”

Charlie gave Joe a sidelong glance. “We don’t show up on tape, Joe.” Charlie shook his head, he’d never expected Joe to lose it first.

“We don’t, but dancing money bags will.” Joe rubbed his clawed hands together in anticipation.

“I still don’t get how that’ll help us.”

“”Think Charlie. Bank gets ripped off. Big headline. How long before someone leaks freaky security footage to the Internet and we get our fifteen minutes of fame?”

“So dancing money ends up on the webz.” 

“Remember that time He locked us in that dressing room mirror for doing the macarena at Wally’s?” Joe grinned.

“Oh man! Don’t remind me, my eyes still burn.”

“Well, we’re gonna macarena hundred dollar bills all over the lobby!”


Three weeks later in an opulent office, a minion interrupts his employers latest deal.

“Hey, boss?”

“Really? I’m kinda busy here, Dood.”

“I know boss, but I think you wanna see this. For real.”

“Alright, be right there.” Laying aside his golden pen, he cast a stern look at his guest, “Don’t go anywhere Donald, I’ll be right back.” He turned back to Dood, “This better be worth my time or you'll be the star of next years haunted playhouse.”

His flunky pointed to a wall of screens. Each one showed a grainy video being played on assorted venues. The leaked footage was trending on twitter. It had a Facebook fan page.  It was the number one hit for Google searches of banks, hauntings, or the macarena. The news channels played it over and over.

“I think it’s them boss. But it don’t tell us where they went.”

He watched the assorted screens for several minutes before pointing at one slightly better image, “Zoom in on that one.” Leaning closer he ordered the footage stopped. “Right there. Get my coat, tell Mr. T. It’s his lucky day, I’ll catch up with him later.”

“What’d ya see boss?”

“The middle dancer, it was a peace lily.”