George and Tourist Season

George was a pirate, but he wasn’t a very good pirate.
During tourist season, he worked for a water taxi service between the islands.
People snapped selfies with him, and he’d give his best pirate leer or he’d draw his cutlass and demand their gold and jewelry.
They’d laugh, and gave him excellent reviews on the comment cards and Yelp.
“George is the best pirate ever,” they said. “If only the islanders were as charming as George.”
At the end of the season, George returned to his ship and showed his mateys the reviews.
They threw George overboard and laughed.

George the Spammer

George was a pirate, but he wasn’t a very good pirate.
He liked to send a lot of unsolicited email, and people reported him as a spammer.
“I’m a pirate, and we pirates loot and pillage towns and ports,” said George to his hosting provider. “And sometimes I notice that when some of my shipmates can’t get it up when they’re ravishing and raping, I make a note to send them an email about this herbal remedy I distribute.”
“Sounds reasonable to me,” said the administrator, and they turned his account back on.
George smiled, and sent out more email.

Weekly Challenge #986 – TV in the background

The next topic is Visceral

THOMAS

The TV is always on in the Background.

The TV in the kitchen is always on, even when no one’s watching. It hums softly as Mom rolls the dice in Monopoly and Dad grumbles about losing again. My brother trades two railroads for Boardwalk while Grandma stirs her tea, shaking her head.

Between turns, we talk about the neighbors. Mrs. Parker’s new beau, Mr. Lee’s talking dog, the mystery of who keeps leaving panties on our porch.

The news anchor drones on in the background, but we barely listen. The TV is just there—like the ticking clock, the clinking dishes, and the laughter that fills our home.

LISA

An Ordinary Monday in March
It’s a day that Charlotte will never forget. The radio plays from the window sill: a story about a train derailment earlier. She wafts a towel over the toaster trying to stop the smoke alarm before it wakes the baby.
The baby wakes as her phone rings
“Hello. Mrs Biveh?”
There’s a jangle of a children’s programme from the TV in the background as a toddler clutches her leg. The smoke thickens.
“But Mummmmeeeee I neeeed to weeeeee”
“Hello? I’m PC Chalock…”
Charlotte turns the radio off, it silences the room but even in the quiet she struggles to comprehend.

RICHARD

— Scoreplay —

“Will you please turn that thing off?”
Jake frowned, “Do I have to? I like the TV in the background, ever since Patricia left me it’s been lonely around here. I like to have it on for the company.”
Now it was Anna’s turn to frown.
“But you’ve got company right now… Me! And if there’s one thing I hate, it’s trying to have sex while you’re distracted by the football!”
Jake pouted, peering over Anna’s shoulder to watch the match.
“You never told me. Why did she leave you, anyway?”
“She hated me watching TV during sex.” Jake replied.

SERENDIPIDY

You’ve got to play it smart when it comes to the cops.
They listen for clues when you make a call. Things like train sounds and church bells, or aircraft passing overhead; clues that can give away your location and lead them straight to you.
So I always put on the TV in the background, loud enough to mask out other noises.
Perhaps you might think that I’m being paranoid, but the fact is, they haven’t caught me yet.
And, if I have anything to do with it, they never will.
Not as long as I own a television, anyhow!

NORVAL JOE

After giving Sabrina enough time to get upstairs, Billbert snuck from the bathroom and listened by the kitchen to see what the two women were talking about. Unfortunately, the TV in the background covered whatever conversation they were having. He would have to step in, unprepared.

“Hi, Mom. What’s up?” he asked.

“This is Ms. Calabassa. She’s with Child Protective Services. She has a family to place Sabrina with.”

“That’s right,” she smiled at him humorlessly. “Have you seen her?”

“Nope,” Billbert said. “Not since before school. She had a meeting with a counselor, or something. Haven’t seen her since.”

TOM

Full of silence

I spoke to him daily. Long conversation on topics vast and deep. No matter the place or surrounding the air was always charged with interest. Wise witty and wondrous. Without a moment of lesser pretense. I am richer for his words, they have lingered long, yet few remain. So, I leave TV in the background on. Dull the day and go about the 1000 silence tasks that need no active thought. A hear an actor deliver his line. He says “Just do me one last favour Sherlock… One more miracle. Don’t. Be… Dead.” My god, did he love Conan Doyle.

867 irresistible

Timmy wasn’t so much irresistible as unrresistible. If you were in his presence, you could easily be drawn is to whatever madcap quest he was on, but at the same time if you as so much turn your head the illusion faded away. This is how Frank ended up 4th and Drucker waiting for the Electrician Or Someone Like Him. When a gentleman of short stature appeared to Frank’s right Timmy whispered “Don’t Crush That Dwarf, Hand Me the Pliers!” To this the Dwarf replied “How Can You Be In Two Places At Once When You’re Not Anywhere At All?”

868 The Homeric Hymn to Disney

Of the mouse giver we sing. He with the wry smile. He who can sell ice cube to an Eskimo. In Anaheim rich in gold. Of the duck giver we sing. He with Chicago roots. He who built the castle. In Anaheim rich in gold. Of the hidden mickeys giver, we sing. He with pencil drew. He who made the Mermaid’s queue. In Anaheim rich in gold. Of the Huey, Dewey, and Louie giver, we sing. He with child’s wisdom. He who made magic kingdoms. In Anaheim rich in gold. We sing of thee MOUSE. In Anaheim rich in gold.

PLANET Z

When I play games, I like to use my big screen TV as the monitor. It has a really fast refresh rate and the sound that comes out of the sound bar is incredible. And it’s like being in the game without having to put some goofy bulky headset on. The problem is I like to have the TV going in the background while I play games, so either I need to get a second TV to roll into the room or I stream stuff on my computer in another window through a second monitor off of the video card.

George the cultured

George was a pirate, but he wasn’t a very good pirate.
While the other pirates went to the taverns, George went to the theater, ballet, and opera.
“Landlubber tripe!” his mateys said, and they laughed.
George didn’t mind them.
But George did notice a man at the ballet who bore an odd resemblance to the captain.
“My niece is the lead dancer tonight,” said the captain. “Not a word.”
To keep him quiet, the captain let George be captain for a day.
The crew, terrified of what might happen, spent that day at the theater, the ballet, and the opera.

George passes the bottle around

George was a pirate, but he wasn’t a very good pirate.
Shipwrecks had fallen to rot and rust on the blood-soaked beach.
With every wave, bodies washed ashore.
A few, he recognized.
Collect wood to start a fire.
Sit a while, warm your hands.
Pass the bottle of whiskey around.
Tell stories of the old days.
Great battles and massive treasures.
We could have lived like kings.
If only… if only…
When is enough enough?
George looks around the fire.
He is alone.
Tossing the empty bottle into the fire.
Laying down on his side.
Closing his eyes to sleep.

George the bear

Tomorrow, Ann was going off to college.
It wasn’t easy deciding what to take and what to leave behind.
She wouldn’t have enough room for everything.
This poster stays, this blanket comes with.
She looked at the shelf with her teddy bear collection.
Every one, her father had given her after he returned a business trip.
She held the bear with the eyepatch and bandanna.
“This one is from Puerto Rico,” he had said.
“George,” said Ann. “His name is George. George was a pirate, but he wasn’t a very good pirate.”
She put it in the box and smiled.

George and the pirate street signs

George was a pirate, but he wasn’t a very good pirate.
Even though stores in New Orleans sell replicas of the street signs, people want the real deal.
So, George went out with a hacksaw and a burlap sack to collect the actual street signs.
After George filled his burlap sack, he got lost because there weren’t any street signs.
“Siri, how do I get back to the ship?” he asked his iPhone.
No response. The battery was dead.
After he got arrested by the police, he used the police station’s phone to call the captain to bail him out.

George’s skin

George was a pirate, but he wasn’t a very good pirate.
Other pirates had scars and rashes and sunburn.
George’s skin was smooth and flawless.
He never went outside without waterproof sunblock.
And he covered his face with a bandanna to protect it against the sun and wind and sea spray.
“Are you going to cut holes in it so you can see?” asked the captain.
“Only when I can find a pair of sunglasses with full ultraviolet protection,” said George, feeling around.
“Oh, they’re over here,” said the captain, leading him to the railing.
And he pushed George overboard.

George and lemons

George was a pirate, but he wasn’t a very good pirate.
He didn’t like to loot and pillage like other pirates.
Instead, he liked to run his lemonade stand.
After all, sailors need Vitamin C to prevent scurvy, so might as well make it convenient and refreshing.
Even if sailors had their own supply of lemons and limes, there was something special about George’s lemonade that made it so popular.
Many came from all around to buy George’s lemonade.
After George retired from the lemonade stand, he finally divulged his secret ingredient.
“Rum,” said George, winking.
(Actually, it was vodka.)

Weekly Challenge #985 – Ashlar

The next topic is TV in the background

THOMAS

ASHLAR

The Lithuanian masons of Novakouskis & Sons were unmatched in their craft, their ashlar walls stood like timeless monuments. Their office, a short walk from Ford Funeral Home, saw frequent visits from the solemn Mr. Ford. One evening, he arrived at Novak’s with an unusual request—discreet disposal of a hundred buckets of unclaimed cremains. Mr. Novakouskis nodded.

When they built the grand entrance to the Ford Home, the fine dust swirled into the concrete mix. The wall stood firm, whispering secrets only the wind could hear. “Solid work,” Ford mused, running a hand over the stone. “Built to last,” Novakouskis agreed.

RICHARD

— Ashlar —
So, I’ve been asked to write a short piece about ashlar.
Now, please excuse my ignorance, but what the heck is ashlar?
Is it some obscure historical figure that somehow got skipped whilst I was in school? Or perhaps it’s one of those lost languages that linguists get so excited about?
For all I know, it’s an island in the middle of the Pacific Ocean.
I really don’t have a clue, and no, I’m not going to Google it – somebody said that was cheating!
Maybe I’ll just moan about my complete ignorance on the topic, and write about that instead?

SERENDIPIDY

They called him Ashlar the Brave.
A brute of a man with bulging muscles; fearless in battle and always ready to fight.
The villagers revered him, relying on him for protection against all assailants. Which mostly worked out well.
Until he met me.
He bellowed and stomped, waved his sword around and then challenged me to fight.
“Certainly.” I replied. “But, would you mind turning your back while I get changed?”
You can probably figure out what happened next.
All brawn… No brain!
They still speak of him in stories and ballads, only now he’s known as Ashlar the Stupid.

TOM

During my last semester in college, I did major research on one of the oldest monumental structures in Western Civilization. Mycenae: rich in gold; as Homer use to say. My focus was on the Lion Gate, but just outside this portal were the Beehive domes. Cobbled structures with serious dressing stonework. This form of stonework in found throughout the ancient world from India to Peru. Ashlar even found its way to the Chicago Southern Neighborhoods of my aunt and grandmother. It was a bit kiddish, but wasn’t everything in a middleclass neighborhood. Once saw a doghouse with ashlar stone work.

865

And then

I wish I could tell you what happened next . . . but that was the moment the light went out. I could wax on about the search for flashlight light and candles, but that would not help explain the body in the middle of the waiting room. How it got there? Who it was? Why it had a large red bow around its head? Further, no one in the office seems to give it much notice. I deftly stepped over he or she. For all I know she or he is still waiting in the waiting room. So, it goes.

866

You Spin Me Round (Like A Record)

Benny had a huge collection of records. 60 years of vinyl in mint condition. The lion share of these were from the year 1969. A banner year for all kinds recording artist. R/B Pop, Rock, Folk, Jazz, even Classical. Miles Davis – Cick Corea – Is Joe Cocker – With a Little Help from My Friends B.J. Thomas – Raindrops Keep Fallin’ On My Head Led Zeppelin – Led Zeppelin Cream – Goodbye Poco – Pickin’ Up the Pieces Crosby, Stills & Nash – Crosby, Stills & Nash Creation Mass Joseph Haydn Triple Concerto Ludwig Van Beethoven

NORVAL JOE

“Right,” Billbert said and ran to the ashlar steps that had replaced the original wooden planks of the front porch and slipped inside.

His mother was speaking with someone in the family room. He had to get into the kitchen without being seen. He would look too suspicious if he peeked around the corner to see if they were looking.

He strolled past, headed for the back door.

“Billbert. Is that you?” his mother called.

“Yeah, Mom. Just going to the bathroom,” Billbert said.

He unlocked the back door, hopped into the bathroom, and waited for Sabrina to tiptoe past.

PLANET Z

I keep a bird feeder in the back yard.
There’s a baffle on the pole to keep squirrels out of it.
They rummage through the seeds and other stuff that falls from the feeder.
I keep a container in the screened-in patio to refill the feeder.
Well, a squirrel got into the screen, ate some spilled seeds, and broken into the container to eat some more.
My cat chased the squirrel around for a bit.
The containers are in the garage now, and I’ve duct-taped the screen until I can pop it back into place.
The cat’s asleep, as usual.