The Galley Door Opened Yet Again

by KentIn the past we’ve pulled the holiday week prompt phrases from various carols and Twas the Night Before Christmas. This year we mined two of our favorite seasonally appropriate movies, Die Hard and Elf. They make for entertaining yet uneasy bedfellows. Please to enjoy.

  • with feet smaller than my sister
  • except it smells like mushrooms
  • now I have a machine gun
  • The police have themselves an RV!
  • You sit on a throne of lies.

Tune in next time part 348      Click Here for Earlier Installments

The galley door opened yet again. Jim sauntered in and asked, “What’re you hens all cluckin’ ’bout in here?”

“None of your business,” Fleur replied coolly. She squeezed our babies tighter, her eyes glued to Jim’s lack of shirt. “Is your sweaty torso supposed to make me forget I’m talking to someone with feet smaller than my sister‘s earrings?”

“Ya got t’admit,” Jim said, leering at Isolde, “they’re impressive earrings.”

“And you should admit,” Fleur retorted, “there’s nothing all that special about your glistening abdomen except it smells like mushrooms.”

“Oh, I like mushrooms,” Isolde sighed.

“Who’s flying the ship?” I demanded.

“Autopilot,” my brother said without even looking at me.

“Can we talk about Operation Yippee-ki-yay in front of Jim?” Isolde asked.

“No!” Fleur yelled. The twins started crying, and Fleur didn’t even try to soothe them. She handed the boy to Jim and the girl to Isolde. “Go supervise the autopilot. Take them with you. Leave us.”

Jim was a natural. He positioned my son along his forearm, face-down, and the baby quieted in a few seconds. And a few seconds later, the child produced a staccato eruption of flatulence. Jim aimed the diaper at Isolde. “Now I have a machine gun. Better do as I say.”

My daughter continued to wail. Fleur pinched the bridge of her nose, waiting for them to leave the galley. When the door finally shut out most of the noise, she drew a deep breath to speak.

But a different voice preempted her. And her eyes grew wide.

“Attention airship! Reverse course immediately!”

I spun to see what she was looking at. It was another zeppelin, but it appeared to be armored and its nose bore a long, sharp lance. Red and blue lights flashed on its black-and-white hide.

“That looks like a ramming vehicle,” I said.

Fleur’s shocked expression changed to delight. “The police have themselves an RV! I didn’t think the budget appropriation was going to pass this year!”

The needle proboscis of the RV swung toward us.

“Maybe tell them who you are?” I suggested.

“Oh, they know perfectly well whose ship this is.”

The RV advanced. I implored Fleur with my eyes. She rolled hers and picked up the mic.

“Okay, boys. Ha, ha. All in good fun. Now, turn aside and make way for your future queen.”

With a blare of feedback, the amplified reply shot back. “You sit on a throne of lies.

The RV accelerated.

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