A Fabulous night to the curious Gears!
Tonights story focuses on the fantastical, using a shitton of big words I'm willing to bet most of you haven't heard of before. Perhaps you'll think I'm a dick but you'll need a dictionary (or Google. Let's be serious here) to fully enjoy this little story nugget. Surprisingly, I'm going to make you work for the beautiful eloquence I've written into this story. Unsurprisingly, I suspect I'm being a little peacockish to which I have no issues with.
Prompt: Here's the scene: A 6'2", 250 pound man, long haired, goatee, covered in tattoos walks up to a cash register at Wal-mart with only 3 items: One can of tuna, one box of body sugaring wax and one can of deodorant.
It's up to you to tell the story of his night after the purchase.
500 word max please!
Turning Corners
What purpose could possibly be served by stopping me? asked Drake to himself. He sat on his Harley, the engine idling loudly while a group of scholarly thugs whispered amongst themselves in the moonlight. Growing impatient, he cracked his knuckles, snapping all eyes back to him. “Leave. Me. Alone.”
The ring of men & women noticeably bristled, clearly antagonized that Drake would command them with such authority. A Dean sniffed at him, her feathers ruffled by his brutish nature. She stepped forward.
“You have no cause or concern to bring you here, Drake Varro. Your kind is not welcome on Harvard soil, all previous accomplishments withal.” declared Madame McGonavale, voice dripping with venom and condemnation. The wrinkled corners of her eyes crinkled with barely contained rage at his grossly exhibitionist behaviour. The others clearly mirrored her sentiments.
Drake stared down each scholar, curling his face into a scornful sneer as he considered the gang of intellectual peacocks. Sure, each one had elevated his mind beyond anything a thug like him would have considered possible but… History did nothing to redeem their current behavior. Since he’d graduated as valedictorian eons ago, his mind had sharpened considerably.
“The judgemental abjurement of me is duly noted, Sasha.” sneered Drake as he stood at his imposing 6’2” height, snarling at each of the impossibly atrocious imposters. Most of the scholars, meek in stature, simply withered under Drake’s massive bulk. Madam McGonavale however, stood firm, matching his fierce glare with her own.
The engine idled, gripped between Drake’s massively tattooed thighs as he held out his middle fingers to his dusty predecessors. “Luckily, I find the drivel you preach to be the paragon of loathing! You aren’t worth a thought!” spat Drake in Sasha’s face, the disdain in his voice acidic enough to melt her bones. Reaching into a plastic Wal-Mart bag, he revved the engine and shot forward, shouting “Bovine lummoxical bitch!” to Sasha as he sprayed the shocked quacks with a can of deodorant he’d pulled from the bag. They shrieked and jumped away, covering their eyes.
Tossing the empty can at the humiliated scholars as he rounded the corner, he gunned the bike and whooped for joy, roaring off to the Divinity Sewers where he hoped to meet delicate little Vuri. Within minutes, Drake pulled up to the secluded grove, killing the engine. Darkness blanketed the area, silence a companion to coax demure Vuri out. To help, Drake laid out the sugar wax and canned tuna he’d bought, as a gift.
“I have simple wax that believes it’s a fantastical ship in a bottle and chopped tuna that believes it’s a dragon,” whispered Drake. He waited.
Before long, Vuri materialized, her slender body gliding with unmatched grace. Her face was bright and full of life, framed by wispy thin hair that shimmered blonde in the moonlight. Her eyes appeared yonderly and wise though she couldn’t have been much more than a girl.
“Most clever objects realize they are fantastically unrealistic,” opined Vuri, her voice soft as wind chimes on a breeze.
“Cleverly, unrealistic objects hire a recherché young lady to keep tabs on their fantastical musings.” He beamed at her, his composure softening considerably upon seeing his elusive daughter. He attempted to step towards her, forgetting the rules.
Vuri shook her head, her hair following the motion as if underwater. She looked despondant, unsure how to convey her complex emotions.
“When you lose minds and become komorebi…”
She vanished, whisking the small gifts with her and leaving a sharp void in Drake's heart...
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As always, feel free to provide feedback! If you don't know what kind of feedback I'm (cue: EVERYONE) looking for, read a few posts back and you'll discover some exquisite examples!
Okay, that last bit was a lie. I had one example. Just one. It was definitely exquisite though. No joke. I also broked the prompt as my final word count was 589.
I don't feel bad and I'm positive you didn't either.
~ Storyteller
Okay, that last bit was a lie. I had one example. Just one. It was definitely exquisite though. No joke. I also broked the prompt as my final word count was 589.
I don't feel bad and I'm positive you didn't either.
~ Storyteller
That was a super fun piece Ben - enjoyed what you did with the objects immensely! The added touch of our hero being a harvard graduated, shunned by his peers added a nice flavor to the dish. Excellent use of the prompt and all around fun story.
ReplyDeleteThank you for the kind words! I probably had just as much fun writing the story as you did reading it. Learning how to recreate how 'I' thought a Harvard biker grad might speak was incredibly educating and challenging. So many beautiful words and phrases to learn and so little time!
DeleteAs always, I appreciate your prompts and the challenges they bring so keep it up!