“And in Conclusion”

Happy belated Solstice!

For this year’s Skelleyverse Holiday Extravaganza On Ice, we’ve decided to combine forces and gift you with one bonus-size edition of our chain story, instead of the usual two smaller entries. Our prompt phrases this time all come from a single source: beloved movie A Christmas Story.

Jen will start. She’ll write until she works in the first phrase, then hand the keyboard over to Kent. We’ll alternate until we get to the end of the list.

Have a joyful season, however you choose to celebrate.

  • I can’t put my arms down
  • Only I didn’t say “fudge”
  • Not a finger!
  • you’ll shoot your eye out
  • this thing in the stock which tells time
  • Be sure to drink your Ovaltine.
  • soft glow of electric sex
  • It’s a major award!
  • I triple-dog-dare you!
  • It was… soap poisoning

Tune in next time part 451 & 452      Click Here for Earlier Installments

“And in conclusion,” YoYo said, “That’s how I know that ‘twins’ are merely a trick done with mirrors.”

“That’s preposterous,” I said. “I myself am a twin.”

YoYo made an elaborate show of looking around the room, lifting the blankets to peer under them, craning her neck all around. “I see only one of you.”

“Jason’s not here,” I said. “We’re identical, not conjoined. He’s off somewhere causing trouble, no doubt.”

YoYo sighed sadly. “I had hoped that you would see things my way and that I would be able to finally stop this endless struggle and lay my weapons aside, but I can’t put my arms down yet. Not so long as people like you are out there denying the truth of yetis and lying about the existence of twins.”

“All I can tell you is, I have never seen a yeti but I have seen lots of twins.” Arguing about this was making my head feel soft. “Maybe we just need to accept each other’s differing views, and move on.”

YoYo pointed to her tarot spread. “You denied this, too. You told me I don’t love you, despite the clear message in these infallible instruments of prophecy!”

“Oh, fudge,” I said. Only I didn’t say “fudge” — what I said was a word in Olde High Contrarian that doesn’t really translate but sounds just like “fudge” and means, basically, “please drop this tedious conversational topic, put your clothes on, and give me a few minutes alone to think.”

“It’s like that, is it?” said YoYo. “Fine, General. Have it your way.” She stood and whipped the blankets out from under the tarot cards like a magician denuding a dining table, leaving the intricate card configuration undisturbed upon the mattress. She gathered the blankets around herself like a robe and gave me a particular kind of salute that used only a single finger. Not a finger! How insubordinate!

“I hope that’s not your trigger finger,” I quipped. “Cuz you’ll shoot your eye out on the target range if it is.”

YoYo flounced from the room in a swirl of bedding. I wondered how she would feel about twins after giving birth to some.

Exhausted from my afternoon’s sweaty exertions, I fell asleep. I was awakened sometime later by the fortress’s dinner bell. I was starving. As I rolled out of bed, I noticed that the tarot cards had been shuffled about by my naptime thrashing (my legs tend to be quite restless). Maybe their new message would dissuade YoYo from the ridiculous notion that she was in love with me. I barely had time to put my pants on before the door swung open and a soldier entered, bearing my meal on a tray. It was a simple meal, merely a small loaf of bread and a bowl of thin soup. I prodded the soup with my spoon and discovered this thing in the stock which tells time. That is to say, a pocket watch. Who could have slipped such an item into my dinner. And why?

I was so hungry that I ate the soup anyway. As I dipped the bread to soften it and then gnawed the soggy loaf, I took a shot at decoding the disarrayed tarot cards on the bed. To my amazement there seemed to be something there, if I treated it as an instance of the soothsayer’s code. B… E… S… U… Maybe I was mistaken about it being meaningful, but I plowed on, spiraling into the center of the chaotic spread. R… E… T… O… And eventually, I had a complete phrase.

Be sure to drink your Ovaltine.

Just then came another knock on my door, and a soldier entered bearing a glass of what looked like rich, creamy, chocolate milk.

At this point I became unsure that anything from the past several hours had actually happened. Perhaps those mushrooms hadn’t been aphrodisiac purple rangers. Perhaps they had instead been hallucinogenic purple paladins. But the soft glow of electric sex emanating from my groin told me that at least some of the events had indeed occurred.

“Do you ever have one of those days?” I asked the soldier. “I feel like I’m losing my mind.”

“You should apply for the Lost Marbles. It’s a major award! Only the most tragically insane have a shot at winning, but from what the rumor mill is saying about you, General, I think you should enter.”

I surged to my feet in outrage as the yeoman yodeler said, “Enter the contest, General. I triple-dog-dare you!

The presumptuous soldier quickly set down the glass and darted backwards from my quarters, pulling the door shut behind him. I retrieved the beverage and raised it to my lips, but something about its aroma halted me before sipping. I swirled the drink and took another whiff of the odd bouquet, trying to identify it. The salty broth of my soup, after so much perspiration earlier, had left me quite parched. Whatever type of smoothie the concoction was, it didn’t seem very thirst-quenching, but it was probably better than nothing.

I pinched my nose and chugged it.

There came yet another knock on my door. I burped and said, “Enter.”

It was YoYo. I was very surprised by her return, so soon after our rancorous conversation. She said, “I forgot to tell you this earlier. As I’m sure you know, the last four generals who ran Enigma Fortress died mysteriously.” I did not know this. “The autopsy results have finally come back.” As she spoke, she dug in her pocket and then squinted at a crumpled paper scrap to read it. “It was… soap poisoning.”

I burped again, emitting three tiny bubbles into the room.

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