It’s time once again for Friday Fictioneers with our hostess is Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. The visual prompt is below and we’re to use 100 words or less.
Photo courtesy of Jennifer Pendergast
The door was locked.
Luckily, Karla had a credit card with her that she slid between the door jamb and the lock. After some expert wiggling and jiggling, it opened.
Once inside, she couldn’t believe her luck: Almost every game from her childhood was jammed into the shelves.
They said she could choose three. Oh, but how to decide? She loved them all. Karla was in another world, oblivious, as she tried to pick just three. She was so engrossed that she didn’t hear the door open and close.
Use your imagination and creativity using one, two or all three words that may or may not be related. There are no restrictions regarding length, style, or genre, though please keep it family friendly.
Tag your responses with 3TC, #threethingschallenge or TTC, and you can add Di’s logo if you wish.
Today’s words are
PLUSH
FLUSH
BLUSH
Toward the end of the dinner party Cecil felt the need to use the water closet. His date was engaged in conversation with the woman to her right and he didn’t want to interrupt.
“Excuse me, ” he asked the gentleman seated next to him. “Might you direct me to the facilities?” The gentleman obliged and Cecil thanked him.
“Whoa!” Cecil had never seen a more plush, fancy bathroom. It had a push-button toilet, with a bidet! The water faucets were ornate, bordering on gaudy — like something you might see in Czar Nicholas Romanov’s restroom.
I better be extra careful in here!
So far, there had been no faux pas during this swanky soiree and Cecil aimed to keep it that way. He wanted to make his girlfriend proud of him, rather than embarrass her like he did at the last party she took him to. He cringed and blushed at the memory.
He decided to forego the bidet, never having used one before. Why tempt fate? Cecil stood before the intimidating toilet and held his breath. His hands were shaking and he silently prayed that his aim was true. After he was sure it was, he let out a sigh of relief.
He carefully zipped up, washed his hands (with soap) and dried them on the frilly napkins rather than the gilded hand towels.
He returned to the party extremely pleased with himself. I wasn’t until later that it was brought to his attention that he had forgotten to flush.
This is the first chapter of my novella, The Homunculus Heroes. It is available at amazon.com. Just follow the link at the bottom of the page.
It was inevitable. The entire town knew it was just a matter of time before the wild-ass Limbourg brothers and the duBerry twins, Dingle & Razz, would hook-up.
And they were afraid.
The Limbourgs and duBerrys were neighbors and the best of friends—kind of like the Ricardos and the Mertzes from I Love Lucy. Eventually, both couples decided to procreate, as couples are wont to do. First came the Limbourg brothers; Sebastian, and precisely one year and eleven days later François arrived on the scene.
Six months later, the duBerrys unleashed Dingle and Razz, identical twin girls, on the village and ultimately, the world.
The boys were two halves of a whole lotta trouble: What one didn’t explode, the other would implode…according to the townsfolk. Sebastian & François were a lethal, albeit amusing, fusion of fierce intellect and holy-crap imagination. Case in point: the two boys once transformed their Play-Doh® Fun Factory into a small-scaletoxic waste producer. Fortunately, the Hazmat team arrived in time but remain flummoxed as to how the tykes managed it. All they could get out of Sebastian was something about gamma rays and hair tonic. François claimed to know nothing about anything.
Meanwhile, next door, Dingle & Razz were busy spaying Hello Kitty®—just doing their part in controlling the pet population. Barbie and Ken would have undergone similar surgeries, but to the girls’ dismay, the dolls were not only anatomically incorrect but the snub-nosed, preschooler scissors their mother had given them were no match for the dolls’ thick, plastic hides. So instead, they focused on Stretch Armstrong®, who was also lacking his definitive parts, but it didn’t matter. The girls were simply curious as to what made Stretch, stretch.
After the Fun Factory/Spaying incidents, the four prodigies were sent outdoors “to play,” while their respective parents settled in with several rounds of Singapore Slings.
“Why was Hazmat at your house, Frankie?” Dingle asked.
François shrugged. “Toxic waste. The usual.”
“Again?” Razz asked, lighting up a Virginia Slim. “Don’t you guys ever get tired of that?”
“Whaddaya talkin’ about?” Sebastian held up his thumb and forefinger. “We are this close to creating the most toxic toxin the world has ever seen!”
“Yep,” François added. “All we’re lacking is one stinkin’ element…and Ka-Boom!”
“Yeah, okay, Sebo.” Razz blew a smoke ring and rolled her eyes at Dingle.
“Well, what did you two accomplish today?” Sebastian challenged.
Razz & Dingle provided an animated, play-by-play account of Hello Kitty’s and Stretch Armstrong’s surgical procedures when suddenly François’ eyes lit up.
“Stretch Armstrong. Isn’t that the thing with the weird goo inside?”
The girls nodded. “Yeah, it’s wicked. Why?”
Sebastian seemed to read his brother’s mind. “Is there any left?”
Before the girls could answer, François implored, “We gotta borrow Stretch for a while.”
“Okay…but what are you going to do?” Razz asked.
The Limbourg brothers glanced at one another, grinning. “You’ll see.”
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It was a beautiful spring day — birds chirping, trees beginning to blossom and a warm magnolia breeze drifted through the air. Oblivious to the lovely day, Mary Catherine climbed the 20-something steps to the huge and heavy doors of Our Lady of Perpetual Limbo. It was Confession Day, and she recited the wrongs she had done over and over in her head. She didn’t want to leave anything out and get in trouble with God or whomever.
Once inside, she genuflected and dipped her finger in the holy water container on the wall and made the sign of the cross.
Mary Catherine was alone in the church. What luck! She wouldn’t have to wait. She headed to the confessional, opened the door and knelt down. She listened for the sound of the screen closing. When she heard it, she began: “Bless me Father for I have sinned. It has been three years since I have been to confession.”
There was silence, which is sometimes normal, so she started rattling off her sins.
I have been unfaithful to my husband several times; too many to count.
I stole money from his wallet to buy groceries and kept a twenty for myself.
I also stole from the grocery store.
I took the Lord’s name in vain.
I guess that’s about it.
More silence. She waited a few minutes for the priest to say something, but he didn’t.
“Hello? Is anyone there?”
Still no answer.
What am I supposed to do now?
She got up and opened the door and quietly knocked on the priest’s door. Still no answer so she knocked harder. She looked around and still, she was alone in the church.
“Hello? Father, are you in there?”
She slowly opened the door only to find it empty.
What did he do? Close the screen rather than open it? Maybe he went to the restroom.
She waited another five minutes or so, but no one ever came.
As Mary Catherine walked back down the stairs more than a little annoyed.
All that time wasted making up a bunch of sins just to see what the penance would be. Now she’d never know if having all that fun would be worth it or not.
Ergo, the Ogre 