Weekly Challenge #768 – Fire

LIZZIE

The fire crackled, sputtering snapping sounds.
The evening began with a quiet conversation about something, she couldn’t remember what.
Then, slowly but surely, everything started collapsing. He snapped, venomous words, venomous sentences and venomous hatred. He sputtered spite and a storm of grudges, loading and malevolence. His skin sizzled, tiny drops of sweat popping here and there on his forehead.
She sat in silence. The fire used to look so beautiful, so warm and welcoming. But, for some reason, it didn’t today.
Silence, the whole evening. And the fire spoke and crackled and snapped.
The next morning, she was gone.

RICHARD

Fired up!

Every morning we had a team motivational meeting, designed to inspire us, build mutually beneficial relationships, and fire us up, ready to face the challenges of the day ahead.

It was supposed to energise us, and enable us to start the day with energy and pace.

It was as awful as it sounds.

Calisthenics to start, then group hugs, a song of the day and a rousing shout of affirmation!

We’d do anything to get out of it: Arrange early morning meetings, and appointments, or just get stuck into work as soon as we arrived.

I guess the meeting succeeded!

SERENDIPIDY

Fire pit special roast.

First, prepare your fire pit: Dig out a large, shallow hole in sand.

Next take one prime human, well-matured, seasoned and spiced to taste, and sear on a spit over open flame, until the skin crackles and caramelises.

Line the prepared pit with stones heated in the fire, cover with a layer of straw and lay the meat upon it. Drizzle generously with olive oil, and knobs of butter, then cover with straw and sand.

Bake for three hours.

Serve with your favourite accompaniments.

Delicious!

And I bet your mouth is watering, despite your revulsion!

TOM

You Are Not Safe

Tom knows fire. In the last five year, five forest fires have caused me to leave my home, not knowing if that home would be standing when I returned. A few months ago the three largest fire in the state’s history burn directly above, below and next to where I write this. To escape the last fire I drove directly into a pyroclastic cloud. To the casual listener that’s a god damn mushroom cloud. When we finally rounded the monster down US 5, the sky turned Mordor red and black. I know fire and I know it’s coming for me.

NORVAL JOE

Billbert sat in silence as his mother drove them home from the hospital.
Pulling onto their street a commotion in front of their house forced his mother to stop the car. Red lights of fire trucks flashed in the night while the blue lights of police cars held spectators and residents away.
“That’s our house,” Billbert’s mother gasped. “It’s on fire.”
Mr. Blanketmaker paced back and forth on the sidewalk, frantically looking past the firefighters.
They parked the car and ran to Billbert’s father who threw his arms around them. “Honey. When I drove up, Nuclear Fission was running away.”

TURA

Fire
———
Centuries ago, I sold my soul in return for living “so long as the sun’s fire burns”. I thought that meant forever, so the devil could never collect.

I’ve done a lot of things since. I was once king of a country that no longer exists. I’ve been shipwrecked and fought in wars, but I miraculously survive everything.

Now, scientists know when the sun will go out. In less than 10 billion years. The universe will be habitable a lot longer. Some say our future descendants could reincarnate all their ancestors, and everyone will live forever in paradise.

Except me.

JARED

The Fire Triangle
I don’t know the secret to a fiery relationship, but anyone who knows the Fire Triangle knows how to extinguish any fire. Every fire requires fuel, oxygen, and heat. Even metaphorical ones.
Separate a burning stick from anything combustible. Once the stick is consumed, the fire goes out. Block a fire from getting oxygen or take all the oxygen away – the fire dies. If things are cold enough, there’s not enough energy to ignite the fuel.
Keep two lovers from touching long enough…
If one lover feels smothered, or ignored…
Start giving your partner the cold shoulder…
No more fire.

PLANET Z

Fred was the laziest guy in the company.
Sure, he got his work done, but it seemed like he was always napping at his desk.
Metrics showed Fred was outstanding in productivity and quality, but it didn’t seem that way.
“I’m going to light a fire under his ass,” said his boss.
But nothing could motivate Fred to stop napping at his desk in between tasks.
So, Fred’s boss got out a pack of matches, stuck it on Fred’s chair under his ass, and lit them.
Fred quit and moved to the competition.
And they kicked his old company’s ass.

The pest

Myst is the bedcat.
When I go to bed, she is there, wanting attention.
She’ll try to paw my face or bite my nose.
I just want to sleep, so I cover myself completely with the blanket.
Myst tries to dig in, poking and prodding until she finds a way.
When Gina comes to bed, Myst will bother her for a while.
One of us gets the butt and the other gets the bite.
And then, Myst gets the pillow.
A simple whomp convinces the annoying little baby panther to stop being a pest, and we all go to sleep.

Collect Calls

When I was little, long distance calls were expensive.
So when my Great Aunt Rose or my Grandmother would call, they’d use a code.
They’d call collect and ask for themselves.
We’d say “Sorry, they’re not in right now.” and hang up.
That way, my dad could call back on his company line to save money.
Nobody told me this, so the first time I picked up the phone and this happened, I said “Oh, hi Aunt Rose!”
Everybody yelled at me.
Now, when I get collect calls from the rest home, I just hang up and don’t call back.

Ferguson Fitts

Ferguson Fitts ran a four-minute mile.
The store was four minutes away, and Ferguson ordered something for pickup.
“I’ll be there in a minute!” Ferguson hollered into his phone, and he ran to the store.
A minute later, Ferguson was there.
“Thank you,” he said to the salesperson, handing him a dollar and grabbing a bag. “See you next time!”
Ferguson then ran home.
It took more than a minute, because he had a bag in his hand.
And after running a four-minute mile, Ferguson is a little winded and can’t run so fast.
And, man, he smells really bad.

Alabama vs Clemson

Someone came up with the bright idea to end the college football season with a playoff.
Four teams were invited to play against each other, and, in the end, it was Alabama playing Clemson.
Oh, sure there were other teams playing in bowl games, but all that really mattered was that final game.
The rest of it was just noise.
NFL scouts only watched Alabama and Clemson.
Teams only drafted Alabama and Clemson players.
Pretty soon, every other college gave up on football.
One game a year: Alabama and Clemson.
Which gave more time to enjoy college basketball’s March Madness.

On the shoulders of daddys

Tinny likes to cuddle with me.
It’s easy for her to cuddle with me when I’m lying down.
She walks on to my shoulder, curls up, and goes to sleep.
If I am sitting up, she’ll walk on to my lap and curl up on there.
But if I’m leaning forward while sitting up, she’ll walk on to my shoulders and sit on my back.
It’s not very comfortable for me, and I’m sure it’s not easy for her to maintain her balance.
But she tucks up and purrs, which means she’s happy, and that’s all that really matters, right?

The nudist

Every time I do laundry, I forget something.
Maybe I leave out a shirt or some underwear.
Or a stray sock or two.
Sometimes, I forget to put the towels in.
The washer starts, its door latches, and I’m stuck waiting for the next load.
Once, I had everything ready. I checked everything twice.
Nothing left out, nothing missing.
But I was out of detergent.
So, I went out to get detergent and came back.
I loaded the clothes, poured in detergent, and pushed the start button.
That’s when the power went out.
And that’s why I became a nudist.

Weekly Challenge #767 – PICK TWO the hand that feeds you, scope, dresser, pit stop, quip, knave

Toes

LIZZIE

“This is the hand that feeds you!”
The boys’ silence screamed horrors of pain and misery.
There was only one way out of this. They knew it.
That evening, while the police scoped the house, all three boys, aged 5, 8 and 14, sat outside. None of them spoke, not even the 5 year old. They knew nothing. The father had walked into the woods and had never returned.
An aunt came over. The police left.
The dresser had to go. The hidden compartment, they had found long ago, came in handy after all.
The body would never be found.

RICHARD

Out with the old…

I grabbed my keys off the dresser, skipped breakfast, and jumped in the car.

It was a new year, a new job and a new opportunity, and I wasn’t going to make a bad impression by being late on my first day, I could always make a quick pit stop and grab a coffee and a sandwich at my desk, once I’d settled in.

I certainly made an impression, but not the one I’d hoped for.

That was last January, and ever since, my boss has insisted everyone follows my ‘good example’ by turning up super early every single day.

SERENDIPIDY

They say, don’t bite the hand that feeds you, which if you’re my position doesn’t leave much scope nutritionally.

After all, if I’m not permitted a nibble of a hand, it stands to reason that gorging myself on an arm, leg, or juicy liver is certainly going to be frowned upon. That’s a slippery slope that I’ve no wish to descend.

Because who ever heard of a vegan cannibal?

Just the thought of subsisting on vegetables, and plant matter products -whatever those are- makes me feel sick!

Now please, hold still, and don’t scream when I light up the barbecue!

TOM

Stupid People often Say Stupid Things

“Never smear peanut butter on the hand that feeds you,” quipped Lennie. The scope and limit of his wit fell short in every regard. It was like the two lobs in his head were fighting for some unseen bag of French fries. Damn near everything he ever said was a mash-up of disconnected thoughts hell bent on disconnected outcomes. Once it was out of this mouth he could not care less if anyone took notices or questioned the motivation. Of course his Pop had left him a cold half a billion. So people were subject to nodding thoughtfully. I certainly was.

Attachments area

NORVAL JOE

The remaining assortment of superheroes crowded around the federal agents harrassing them with witty quips and insults, allowing Billbert’s and Linoliamanda’s families to escape.

Billbert laughed as they drove away from the hospital. “That’s an odd group of superheroes, Mom. How do you get anything done?”

His mother scowled. “You have to understand the scope of our mission. We’re not flashy like Superman or the Avengers. We stay out of the spotlight and fight crime and inequality in a more local and individual way.”

Billbert raised an eyebrow. “Is that why Nuclear Fission came all the way to our town?”

TURA

Knave; dresser
———
I start awake to discover a playing card— the knave of swords— nailed to the dresser with a dagger. The message is clear.

I raise a steel-braced arm as I whirl to deflect the intruder’s crossbow bolt into the wall behind me. Snatching up a sword, we engage in a storm of flashing steel. I pour everything into a lunge, which he parries, but my momentum overbears him onto the bed. As we wrestle, I inexorably force my dagger to his throat. “Yield!” I demand, and he finally nods, not quite reluctantly.

My turn to be the top this time.

JARED

“Juliette didn’t want to stop driving; she was making too good time. Her bladder was uncooperative. She saw the next exit had services and found the tiniest outpost of human encroachment on the deserted wastes of — she didn’t know if she was still in Texas, or had made that imperceptible transition into New Mexico. She hated making these runs. They were too long, and she didn’t even know what they accomplished. But, she was again reminded that ‘the scope of [her] employment does not extend to the enterprise’s transactions’. But she also knew not to bit the hand that feeds.”

PLANET Z

You would think that the Truck Stop Preacher was the Truck Stop Killer.
I mean, everywhere the Preacher showed up, a waitress wound up dead.
A waitress that had served the Preacher.
Grilled cheese sandwich, black coffee, and a five dollar tip.
Every body found had a bloody five in her mouth.
But there was no evidence. No witnesses.
No fingerprints, DNA, nothing at all.
Just a coincidence, a solid pattern.
It wasn’t enough for the police to hold him.
Truck stops won’t serve the Preacher now.
“Go use the vending machine,” the waitresses say.
And nobody’s been killed since.

Never let

Professor Blaine liked to say “Never let a Tuesday go to waste.”
He died on a Sunday, right after church.
On Monday, the teaching assistant canceled class, and students from all over campus spent the hour remembering the professor.
“I have the professor’s notes,” said the assistant. “We’ll have class tomorrow.”
But it wasn’t the assistant who taught us.
It was Blaine himself.
“Never let a Tuesday go to waste,” mumbled his corpse.
Campus police showed up and evacuated us from the lecture hall.
Wednesday morning, Blaine was dead again.
Administration moved the class’s schedule to Mondays,Wednesdays, and Fridays.

Hold it

Looking back, losing seventy-five pounds was actually easy.
I walked a lot.
Stores that are less than a mile away, I walked to.
I ate less, and I only ate what was good for me.
I stopped buying bad stuff so it wouldn’t be around to tempt me.
Walking to the store means I can carry less, so I can’t carry heavy canned bad stuff.
Or bottles.
I no longer drank my calories. Only water and tea for me.
And the pounds vanished one after another.
The hard part is not losing, but knowing how to stop and hold it.