ATTENTION, BUTTS: I hereby challenge each and every one of you to a PANCAKE-EATING CONTEST BATTLE ROYALE SUDDEN DEATH MATCH. It will commence tomorrow at dawn. Bring your own utensils. And your own pancakes. Also, a bucket for barfing. And lastly, a you-sized coffin.
Now that that's out of the way, let's celebrate all the riotously well-written responses to last week's uber-challenging prompt!
Sparklers' Choice (with 7 votes): haha<3! This seems like the perfect first page for a novel that we would TOTALLY read.
I remembered the good old days, when flying buses were exciting. Now I don't even bother to look out the window. I know the whole route by heart.
I climb on wearily, taking a window seat and get ready to stretch out. I move to put my bag on the seat beside me, but a squeaky voice chirps out.
"Wait, can I sit here?" I look up at the boy, he's short with thick glasses. Honestly, my only thought is of a hipster Urkel. He's shaking, and as much as I want to stuff my headphones in my ears and stare at the floor, I take pity on him.
"Sure. Of course." I move my bag, and he sits. He tries not to touch me, but I can feel his twitches against the bus seat bench. "Are you alright?"
"Yes, yes, just terribly afraid of heights." His voice has gotten squeakier. "And this is my first time on this bus." He drops to a whisper. "Someone told me we pass over the Bermuda triangle."
"Uh, yeah, we do. It's no big deal. A couple hundred years ago people thought it was some big deal and that people mysteriously died, but no one believes that anymore."
"I kinda do." he fiddles with the straps of the backpack sitting on his lap.
"Maybe you would like a distraction? Like reading?” I plunge my hand into my own bag, and pull of my well-worn copy of Quidditch Weekly. “This was a great read. Told you all about the World Cup, and some secrets about the teams. You can even keep it.” I had at least four more at home, one of which was framed and hanging above my bed.
“No, no, reading while moving makes me ill.” But then his eyes lit up. “But I can get a quick fix before we start moving. I can’t eat while moving, either.” He opens his bag, and I stare at in surprise. It’s filled to the brim with full sized Snicker bars.
“They make me feel better.” He gazes at them, identical and snuggled in like kittens. He runs his fingers over them and chooses one, no, another. I feel disturbed as I watch him unwrap it slowly, eyes moving up and down it.
Suddenly, watching the view out of the bus seems like the best idea I’ve ever had.
Dagger's Choice: a-shy-purple-platypus! My new favorite insult = "You mealy-stomached waffle-eater."
I'd Rather Be in Dublin
A hearty congratulations (and an even heartier heaping of assorted breakfast foods) to all of you! Now put down those sausage links and get cracking on this week's prompt:
Write the funniest, most heartbreaking, or most fascinating "Wanted" ad you can imagine; it can be for/from the perspective of anyone or anything you can think of (feel free to be totally ridiculous).
Related post: Writer War Archives