George was a pirate, but he wasn’t a very good pirate.
The other pirates didn’t respect George.
When he put his lunch in the ship’s refrigerator, someone would always steal it.
“I marked it with my name, guys!” yelled George. “I used the marker that’s clipped to the fridge!”
Someone stole the marker, too.
George began to carry his lunch around with him as he worked.
Sometimes, he’d drop it during a battle or a raid, and someone would step on it.
“You did that on purpose!” George would whine, and stab the offender.
It became his whiny, annoying battlecry.
Weekly Challenge #920 – Trailers
The next topic is Eaten by lions
RICHARD
At the movies
They say TV is no substitute for movies on the big screen.
But, to be honest, going to the cinema can be a depressing experience.
To begin with, there’s the hassle of parking the car, then you have to queue for tickets, before bankrupting yourself buying popcorn and coke in quantities that could feed a third world country for a week.
Not to mention fighting your way through miserable people already comfortably seated to get to your own seat.
But worst of all, realising the movie is total crap, and you’ve already seen the only good bits in the trailers.
LIZZIE
A pot of tulips. Why hadn’t she tossed it in the garbage when Mr. I-Love-Tulips left her? No, she took it to the trailer, all she could afford now. When enough tulips had bloomed, she cut them all off and sent them to his workplace, with a note. “You forgot these.” Yes, it was petty. Yes, it was vindictive. However, she decided to grow some more tulips and send them to him for his birthday. She was sure he’d be horrified to see tulips without a pot. Dead and all that. Life’s tough. But at least, he would have tulips.
SERENDIPIDY
I was brought up in one of these trailers.
Trash, they called me, and they may have been right, but I really didn’t care.
I filled my days with hard drugs, moonshine and whoring.
Although, to be clear, I did none of that myself. I was more a coordinator and manager; or if you prefer, dealer and pimp.
Eventually, I became a major player, and if not gaining the respect of my community, I certainly commanded their loyalty.
Now I’ve risen to the top of the pile.
I still live in a trailer, although with gold fittings and satin sheets.
LISA
Too Much Information
There’s been false lead after false lead. It’s not just the local community gripped by this case now it’s the whole country. And it seems they all want to help.
The latest wild goose chase gets the force checking trailers at the stud farm. All the leads are checked out but now with one of their own amongst the victims the police seem to be working with a renewed energy.
The papers are quick to point this out too. The chief had wanted it keeping quiet, for obvious reasons, but now our man knows Pippa is on the force too.
TOM
Coming soon to a theater near you.
Bruce had been making trailers for a generation. He started at Warner’s. Moved to Universal. Spent a decade at TriStar. After becoming dissolute with the industrial model. Bruce only took offers from Indie productions. He knew deep history on that subject matter. He would tell you the first trailer was in November 1913 for the musical The Pleasure Seekers Due to trailers initially being shown after, or “trailing”, the feature film, the term “trailer” was used to describe the promotion; despite it coming before, or “previewing”, the film it was promoting. His current project was Mother Teresa: Last Nun Standing.
NORVAL JOE
Billbert rode in the back seat of Buhmilda’s car with the two girls. He assumed Mr. Withybottom had gone home and not followed them through the evergreen covered hills to Grandma Buhmilda’s log cabin. She parked her car in a big red barn across a meadow from the cabin. Around the meadow, a half circle of rusty old travel trailers were evenly spaced between the cabin and barn.
As Buhmilda lead the kids back to the cabin, she began to sing at the top of her lungs.
Linoliuhmanda wrinkled her nose and grinned. “Hey. I think I know that song.”
PLANET Z
Walt Disney’s dream was to build the city of the future.
Hub-and-spoke peoplemovers, green spaces and company towers, and multiple levels of tunnels to handle freight and waste and deliveries.
It was perfect… too perfect.
After he died, the board and managers met and scaled back his dream to a bunch of theme parks and resorts.
And a government that the company controlled by filling two small trailer parks leased out to reliable company shills.
So taxes went from one pocket to another, safety laws didn’t apply, and everyone was beholden to The Mouse.
And it all came crumbling down.
George’s letters
George was a pirate, but he wasn’t a very good pirate.
Most pirates had a girl in every port.
Sometimes more than one, depending on the money.
George wasn’t like that.
He had someone special back home
George would send letters from every port he visited.
When he arrived back home, they’d read them together under a tree they’d planted when they were young.
Then, one year, George returned home, but his letters were waiting for him, undelivered.
George put them under the tree they’d planted together, where she’d been buried.
His crewmates found his body, hanging from the tree.
George’s Golden Ticket
George was a pirate, but he wasn’t a very good pirate.
When he felt depressed, he ate.
“What is this?” said George, opening a Wonka Bar and seeing a Golden Ticket.
“It says you’ll get a tour of Willy Wonka’s chocolate factory,” said the captain. “And you’ll get all the chocolate you could ever want.”
They set sail for the chocolate factory, but bad weather prevented George from getting there on time for the tour or the chocolate.
Which made him even more depressed.
He opened another Wonka Bar. Another Golden Ticket.
He crumpled it up and threw it overboard.
George is sorry
George was a pirate, but he wasn’t a very good pirate.
He said “Sorry” a lot, even though he wasn’t genuinely sorry.
He tried to feel genuinely sorry, but he never did.
“You’re not really sorry,” said a man that George had just stabbed.
George sighed. “You’re right,” he said. “I don’t feel sorry. But I want to.”
George sat down and wrote an apology note.
Then, he revised his draft, correcting his spelling and grammar.
Finally, he wrote a clean copy of the note and handed it to the guy he’d stabbed.
But by then, the man was dead.
George reality
George was a pirate, but he wasn’t a very good pirate.
He couldn’t figure out why he was still a pirate.
Why would a crew keep an incompetent like George around?
That’s when George decided he was in a reality television show.
Every now and then, he’d stop and shake one of his crewmates.
“This can’t be real,” he’d say. “Fess up.”
But the pirates were pirates, not actors.
George peeked in every crate and cupboard for cameras and microphones.
Eventually, he gave up, and accepted that things were real.
“Real bad,” said the captain, writing the next day’s script.
George sees his reflection
George was a pirate, but he wasn’t a very good pirate.
The captain constantly shouted at George, making an example of George for the others.
“YOU’RE NOT A VERY GOOD PIRATE! WHY CAN’T YOU BE A GOOD PIRATE?”
When he was just getting his sea legs, he wasn’t very good.
But with time and experience, he got better.
It was the captain who wasn’t a very good pirate. Or a very good leader.
George looked at the crew and wondered who would make a good replacement captain.
Then he looked in his mop bucket, saw his reflection, and pondered mutiny.
George’s email
George was a pirate, but he wasn’t a very good pirate.
He rarely checked his work e-mail, so he missed a lot of memos about training for new equipment or work schedule changes.
He also never bothered to delete his email. His inbox used up a lot of storage, and the ship’s quartermaster got on George about needing to clear up some space.
So, George created a rule to just automatically delete everything that landed in his inbox.
He still missed training session and work schedule changes, but at least the quartermaster was off of his back about meaningless shit.
Weekly Challenge #919: Contact Lens
LIZZIE
“What kind of flower is that?” She asked.
“This is a very special flower,” he answered.
“What do you mean?”
“It’s a contact lens. It helps us to see the future.”
She looked unsure.
“The future?”
“Yep.”
She looked even more unsure.
“How so?”
“Look.”
Then, he whispered and the flower wavered slightly in the wind.
“In a year’s time, this garden will be wonderful, full of life, and filled with beautiful flowers. You know why? Because when you cherish something, everything flourishes.”
She smiled.
Just as he thought, that small flower helped with a lot more than the future.
RICHARD
In the eye of the beholder
I thought she had the most beautiful blue eyes, until we hooked up, and I found out she was wearing tinted contact lenses.
I could live with that, thanks to her gorgeous, long golden hair, until the night I ran my fingers through it, and the wig came off in my hands.
At least she still had a figure to die for, until I realised the breasts were fake and she wore a corset.
The worst part was discovering one of her long, shapely legs was false, when she took it off at night.
She had a lovely personality though.
LISA
Deceptive Appearances
His eye colour seemingly changes with every visit, I thought I was mistaken at first but I think he’s wearing coloured contacts.
With all days blending into one it’s hard to remember things. I chant them to keep them fresh in my head, hoping I’ll survive and need to use them as evidence. It’s hard and I’ve got a permanent tension headache. But what else can I do?
The girls tentatively told me earlier that there were others down here but he took them and didn’t bring them back. I don’t, and won’t, tell them about the bodies we found.
SERENDIPIDY
Lost your contact lens, are you quite sure?
Come closer and let me look.
No, it’s still there, in the corner of your eye. Hold still and lets see if I can slide it into place.
Oh dear. Me and my fat fingers! This isn’t working.
What I need is something thin to slip under the edge, and ease it across.
Maybe this razor blade will do the trick?
Now, what did I say about holding still?
Stop squirming, won’t you?
Oh my goodness!
I told you not to squirm!
On the bright side. You only need one lens now!
TOM
NORVAL JOE
Billbert stood at the door to Grandma Buhmilda’s Biscayne, ready to climb in.
“Linny,” Mr. Withybottom growled at his daughter. “Come with me.”
She glared at him with one eye nearly closed as if she had lost a contact lens. “No. I’m going with my friends.”
“They’re not your friends. Now, come on,” he said much louder.
“Yeah, Lindy,” Sabrina sneered. “We’re not your friends. Go with daddy.”
Linnoliumanda’s face dropped at Sabrina’s declaration.
“Don’t listen to her, Linnoliumanda,” Billbert said. “You’re my friend, and whether Sabrina admits it or not, you two are cousins. Maybe you have magic, too.”
PLANET Z
Tiffany wore glasses.
She shuddered at the thought of sticking something in her eye.
She couldn’t even bring herself to use eyedrops.
The best she could do was stand in the shower with her eyes closed, face the shower head, and open her eyes.
And even then, it took a lot of will to open her eyes.
When her eyesight got worse, she was offered the chance for surgery, but just the thought of it… she would rather go blind.
“We can knock you out for it if you like,” said the doctor.
Counting down from ten, fading into sleep.c
George the Clown
George was a pirate, but he wasn’t a very good pirate.
He wasn’t a very good clown, either.
But every Christmas, he’d dress up in his clown outfit and visit the kids in the hospital.
He tried to juggle, but he dropped the rubber balls.
The balloon animals would pop halfway through the twists.
He was just pathetic.
But the kids laughed, which is all that mattered.
They’d make drawings of him, a clown on a pirate ship.
He tacked them up around his bunk, and he’d read the letters while out at sea.
Until his return the next year.