Category: Four Elements Prompts

Heather Skirted the Edge of the Exercise Yard

  1. by jenCharacter – chunky cheerleader
  2. Setting – prison
  3. Object – scissors
  4. Situation – need to find the black market

Heather skirted the edge of the exercise yard, eyeing the pyramid formation with jealousy. The scissors were concealed in her left pompom and she had to remember not to be too spirited, or one of the guards would notice.

Where was Sarah? Normally she’d be near the trampoline, surrounded by her posse of bitches. But the trampoline was vacant today.

Heather had to hurry. In another 10 minutes it would be time for headcount.

Ah! There was Sarah, by the over-sized megaphones.

Heather hurried over. On the black market, these scissors would buy at least a case of Ding Dongs.

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Harry Couldn’t Go Out There

  1. k-avatarCharacter – politician
  2. Setting – Australian outback
  3. Object – monocle
  4. Situation – earthquake

Harry couldn’t go out there. The crowd was rabid. He would call campaign headquarters, but some lunatic wallaby had his cellphone in her pouch.

“He’s almost ready. Where’s that monocle? Harry looks dignified with a monocle.”

That kangaroo is only making this worse, thought Harry. The noise of the crowd was suddenly louder and a stray boomerang caromed off the wall near his head.

The kangaroo was shouting now. “No! Monocle, I said monocle, you egg-laying imbecile! I suppose it’ll have to do…”

Before he could react, Harry’s wrists were bound by cold iron manacles and he was shoved out onto the stage.

Suddenly, the building began to shake. The pandemonium of the crowd sputtered out.

Harry cleared his throat, lost his balance, and toppled to the floor. He couldn’t get up because of the restraints, and the shaking of the floor. Plaster dust sifted down onto his blue suit as he thought, I can see the headlines now — Harry won’t take a stand.

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Francine’s Toes Hurt

  1. by jenCharacter – South American cannibal
  2. Setting – submarine
  3. Object – lucky rabbit’s foot
  4. Situation – new shoes today

Francine’s toes hurt. The new “sensible” shoes were worse than her old heels.

Stopping her pacing, Francine leaned against the wall of the submarine passageway and felt the faint vibration. They would be in Caracas soon.

Francine rubbed her lucky rabbit’s foot and thought about what it would be like to be reunited with Stanley after all this time.

The mix-up, last time, had been unbelievable but understandable. Stanley and Ngegue looked exactly the same. Still it was embarrassing to explain to both the Bridge Club and Stanley’s mother that she had mistaken a South American cannibal for her own husband.

No matter. Everything was about to be put right. Ngegue would go back to his tribe, Stanley and Francine would return to the State Department.

Francine wondered, though, whether Stanley would ever live up to Ngegue’s performance in the sack.

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Agent Smedley Raised the Collar of his Trench Coat

  1. k-avatarCharacter – inept hacker
  2. Setting – world’s most inappropriate McDonald’s
  3. Object – nail gun
  4. Situation – midlife crisis

Agent Smedley raised the collar of his trench coat, shot a shifty glance up the hill to see if he was being watched, and ducked into the restaurant. He queued for his ultra-fatty burger and deep-fried potatoes.

The vibrant yellow insignia that had led him here stood in garish contrast to the centuries-old stones of the fortification that housed the establishment. Mere steps from the site of royal decapitations, amid the grand murk of the Tower and its veil of history, lurked a hive of incipient obesity and totem of the very rebellious colonists who repudiated this empire.

Smedley surveyed his fellow diners, alert for anyone else who seemed to be looking for someone. His contact had said, “Meet me at the world’s most inappropriate McDonald’s,” and this had to be the place.

It was Smedley’s turn. He looked at the person awaiting his order, and saw that his piercing gaze was being shrewdly returned. He smiled.

“Deep-fry me a nail gun,” he muttered.

“This job is just part of my midlife crisis,” responded the young man in the polyester hat. He slid a tray across the counter, and Smedley noted an excessively printed order slip. He nodded and took the empty tray to an equally empty table.

He read the slip. He shook his head. Although there was lots of jargon about firewalls and encryption, all the strip of paper really told him was that he’d been outbid for the clock he really liked on eBay.

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Marita Shuddered and Closed Her Eyes

  1. by jenCharacter – alien robot
  2. Setting – dry dock
  3. Object – engagement ring
  4. Situation – scattering ashes

Marita shuddered and closed her eyes. With any luck the horrible cyborg wouldn’t think to look for her in her hiding spot. A ship in dry dock has no need for lifeboats, after all.

Curiosity got the better of her, and Marita opened her eyes. Peering through the crack between the boat and its canvas tarp she caught a fleeting glint of sunlight reflecting off the machine’s shiny blue casing. A second later there was a sharp, electrical noise as the robot fired a blast of energy at the stack of lumber where Lyle was hiding. The wood disappeared in a cloud of ash which quickly scattered in the breeze, exposing Lyle on bended knee, proffering a ring.

Marita watched in amazement as the robot holstered its ray gun and pulled Lyle to his feet. The two of them embraced and walked together to the waiting rocket ship.

“That ring was meant for me!” Marita grumbled, knowing that she would now need to swear vengeance upon the alien robot and its kind in order to save her dignity.

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“I Don’t Understand”

  1. k-avatarCharacter – porn actress Turkish Delight
  2. Setting – vestibule of the time travel agency
  3. Object – camcorder
  4. Situation – need to find the black market

“I don’t understand.”

“Istanbul was Constantinople. Now it’s Istanbul, not Constantinople.”

“Just sell me a ticket.”

A notched blue card popped out of the slot in the counter.

“Two dollars.”

“Wow. Thought I was cheap.”

“We invest it hundreds of years ago. Compound interest…”

“Thanks.” Turkish Delight bent to pick up her bags, and every male in the room locked on like a radar defense grid. She slung the camcorder bag over her shoulder and surveyed the assortment of geeky tourists. The one in full plate mail caught her eye, but the logistics were alarming to consider. Loincloth, too far the other way… There! The Renaissance rogue. Very tasty.

Delight swayed over to him, enjoying his confident smirk at her approach. She batted her dark eyes.

“Hello,” he said, in a voice that made her knees weak. “You look familiar.”

Delight smiled shyly. “I get that a lot. My name’s Dee.”

“I’m Jacob.”

“Well, Jacob,” Delight purred, “I’m making a movie. Want to be in it?”

“Absolutely!”

“Great. Hope Constantinople is on your itinerary.”

“As a matter of fact, yes. When we’re done making movies, maybe you can help me.”

“Oh really? How?”

Jacob patted the bulging leather satchel hanging at this side. It seemed to shift a bit in protest.

“I need to find the black market.”

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Enrique Stared at the Small Blue Puddle

  1. by jenCharacter – bounty hunter
  2. Setting – billabong
  3. Object – sno-cone, funnel cake, candy apple, hot sausage sandwich
  4. Situation – lost

Enrique stared at the small blue puddle as it slowly seeped into the marshy ground. The crumpled paper cone joined the sticky remains of the candy apple in his rucksack and he took a moment to survey his surroundings.

The billabong was a festering miasma of life that stretched for another 20 feet before the river dried up again. Enrique swatted a mosquito on his calf and wished he hadn’t eaten his hot sausage sandwich so long ago. Bugs in general avoided him as he sweated out the sausage stink.

He hoped he would find his quarry soon, and preferably not in the jaws of a crocodile.

Enrique stepped out of the shade as a sudden downpour commenced. It did nothing to abate the sweltering heat and it ruined his innate sense of direction.

Damn. He’d never find his way back to the ranger station now. He was lost, at least until the rain stopped.

A paper plate with the sodden remains of a funnel cake floated toward him on the newly reconstituted river. Enrique froze. He might be able to snare his prey and collect his bounty after all. The funnel cake was still warm.

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Banquets at San Simeon

  1. k-avatarCharacter – tour guide at San Simeon
  2. Setting – backseat
  3. Object – wind sock
  4. Situation – lost love

Banquets at San Simeon aren’t generally part of the tour, but inevitably two or three groups come through the hall while it’s being set up. The visitors gawk at the linen-draped tables and mounds of meat, fruit, and pastries.

Today there’s an ice sculpture, which in and of itself isn’t terribly notable. However the sight of it stops Muriel so abruptly that three gawking tourists bump into her. The sculpture freezes Muriel as it melts, dripping on a pyramid of oranges.

It’s her own nude form, reclining on a bench. She knows it’s her the same way she knows the bench is not a settee but the backseat of a ’74 Impala. The artist’s style is unmistakable.

Ernst has been here. Might be here still. Muriel abandons her group, not caring if they become lost and must remain at San Simeon forever. She dashes to the veranda overlooking the helipad. The wind sock morosely turns, north, to northeast, and back, as if wordlessly saying, “too late.”

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Jerome Hung His Pompadoured Head in Shame

  1. by jenCharacter – Elvis impersonator
  2. Setting – prison
  3. Object – engagement ring
  4. Situation – unplanned amputation

Jerome hung his pompadoured head in shame. He was no longer fit to wear the spangly jumpsuit. He’d have to sell his collection of blue suede shoes to pay for his lawyer. It was either that or Lola’s pretty pink engagement ring, and he could never do that to her. Any woman who could overlook what he did was worth her weight in bacon. If only Lola’s mother hadn’t reached for the sandwich just as he was about to cut it…

Well, at least he’d get the chance to perfect his “Jailhouse Rock” dance routine. Hopefully the other inmates would be understanding.

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I Knew I’d Find Him Here

  1. k-avatarCharacter – burned-out kindergarten teacher
  2. Setting – botanical garden
  3. Object – sunflower seeds
  4. Situation – 21st birthday

I knew I’d find him here. Mr. Rodkis, good old Mr Rodkis. He could never cut it with kids any older than 5 or 6, on account of that name.

“Sit down! Be quiet!” He’s bawling out the sunflowers now, although those chrysanthemums are only waiting for him to turn his back.

“That’s it, young lady,” addressed to an 8-foot plant. “You’re in time-out!”

I pincer out some more seeds from the pouch I bought at the gift shop. “Hey, Rodkis,” I want to call out, “I found your troublemaker’s baby sister.”

These tall blossoms are the Botanical Garden’s primary claim to fame. Sadly banal, as a claim to fame. Like Rodkis. I guess that’s why he always winds up here.

I thought it would feel triumphant to track him down on my 21st birthday, to look down on the cranky little man who’d looked down on me those 15 years ago.

But, in hindsight, I agree with my friends. This is a depressing place to spend my birthday.

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