Category: Stichomancy Prompts

My Stomach Growled Like the Bear I was Chasing

  • by jensmear it on the underside
  • as enjoyable as possible for both of us
  • I learned ‘Very Social’ = Unabashedly Enthusiastic Swingers into BDSM.
  • I was completely naïve
  • Will your mom be cool with that?

Tune in next time part 517      Click Here for Earlier Installments

My stomach growled like the bear I was chasing. While the chef was distracted by a tray of tater tots, I snatched up a slice of bread. A few feet along the buffet table I found butter, and a knife with which to smear it on the underside of the bread — a trick I’d learned at the Academy.

Munching my snack, I trotted through the garden in search of Marnie Glockenspiel and her ursine companion. As I neared another turning in the hedge maze, I heard voices coming through the vegetation. I paused to listen. To my shock I recognized both voices. One was Marnie, the other Heinrich Hunter. And then a third voice. Svetlana, the contortionist who traveled the world hidden inside Heinrich’s shirt.

Svetlana, mother of my quadruplet sons, said, “There’s plenty of room in here, Marnie, and I promise to make it as enjoyable as possible for both of us. You’ll love it. We’re very social.”

I dropped to the ground and peered underneath the bushes. Heinrich was sitting on the ground, having shed the top half of his bear suit to expose Svetlana. Svetlana was working hard to convince Marnie to join her inside Heinrich’s clothes. While they talked I learned ‘Very Social’ = Unabashedly Enthusiastic Swingers into BDSM. Before overhearing this sordid negotiation I would not have thought I was completely naïve, but all I could think was “Will your mom be cool with that?”

I mean, my mom probably would be, but most moms wouldn’t.

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Ignoring the Struggling Bear

  • by jenfamously hard to train
  • But this technique you’re practicing
  • impaled his foot
  • mascara stains
  • an expired clown license

Tune in next time part 515      Click Here for Earlier Installments

Ignoring the struggling bear, and Nurse Marnie as well, Brady said to Scrim, “As you know, storm clouds are famously hard to train, but Dr Thunderboom has devised a technique. Isn’t that right, Dr Thunderboom?”

I nodded solemnly, watching Marnie and her ursine companion from the corner of my eye.

Scrim approached the fountain. “I’ve done a lot of research into weather control, and I’ve always been disappointed. But this technique you’re practicing, Thunderboom, this training regimen — you say it really works?”

“Absolutely.”

Scrim stared, wide-eyed with wonder. Behind him, Brady gestured for me to elaborate. I didn’t see the point. Scrim had already bought my story, his eagerness to control the weather eclipsing his skepticism.

I pointed to the clear blue sky. “It was supposed to rain today, but you can see my results for yourself.”

Brady rushed forward to deliver his planned interruption, but in his haste impaled his foot on a salmon bone from the bear’s earlier meal. He shrieked in pain, which certainly derailed any further talk of weather control devices. Blood spurted from his injury, and mascara stains streaked his cheeks as he began to cry.

Marnie took advantage of the distraction to hoist the bear out of the fountain. She hopped onto his back like a bareback rider at the circus, and he carried her away into the garden at a fast waddle.

The yowls still coming from Brady were ear-splitting. I leapt out of the fountain and went to see about shutting him up. I grasped the fishbone and tugged it out, then wrapped my soggy mountaineering shirt around the wound as a bandage. Brady whimpered.

“You impress me, Thunderboom,” Scrim said. “What are you doing working for a clown like Brady? You should join me and the Tap Dancers if you want a taste of real power.”

“A clown like Brady?” I scoffed. “I guess you hadn’t heard, but the only clown license Brady has is an expired clown license. He traded his greasepaint for that tattoo on his chest when he joined up with Jorgensen’s pirate crew.”

Kabbadan Scrim gasped.

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Scrim Gazed Up At Nurse Marnie

  • by Kenthis chin began to quiver
  • My best friends and I engaged in it too
  • that seemed strange
  • lover with the most gumption
  • addition of plastic footwear didn’t help

Tune in next time part 514      Click Here for Earlier Installments

Scrim gazed up at Nurse Marnie, and his chin began to quiver. “I understand. I see how it is. The thrill of bathing with bears is undeniable. My best friends and I engaged in it, too, but I no longer have a bear. But Doctor Thunderboom does.”

I glanced to Brady for some cue about beginning our ruse, but he was distracted trying to assist Kabbadan Scrim back to his feet. Marnie left my side and went over to the bear. That seemed strange. Stranger yet, she engaged in what appeared to be a whispered conversation with it.

“To business!” Brady announced, rubbing his hands together.

“Yes, to business,” Scrim agreed blandly. “I got my hopes up, upon seeing that lovely, familiar face, but it’s only right for her to choose the lover with the most gumption.”

Brady clapped him on the back. “Well, nothing like paying a large sum for a weather control device to mend a broken heart, right?”

A loud sloshing noise interrupted, as the bear stood up and a veritable waterfall poured from its pelt. It was visibly struggling to step out over the side of the fountain, almost slipping and falling several times. The addition of plastic footwear didn’t help it get traction on the smooth, wet surfaces.

Nurse Marnie was shooting me an unreadable look.

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“Ahem,” Brady Said Again

  • by jenhere’s the deal, Marnie
  • throwing himself passionately on his knees before her
  • in a way that isn’t platonic
  • with each passing day
  • music upon the air

Tune in next time part 513      Click Here for Earlier Installments

“Ahem,” Brady said again. “Nurse Marnie. Ahem.” When she continued to ignore him and pretend to kiss me, he said, “Here’s the deal, Marnie. I need you to stop kissing Dr Thunderboom. We have a meeting.”

“Marnie!” cried Kabbadan Scrim. “Marnie Glockenspiel! I haven’t seen you since you left the Paradiddle Tap Academy!”

Marnie whispered, “Help me. He’s obsessed,” before turning to face Scrim.

The head of the League of Tap Dancers got a rapturous look on his face, and did something that resembled throwing himself passionately on his knees before her, but since his knees didn’t bend he wound up on the floor in a way that isn’t platonic, supporting himself on his hands like a trained seal. Even from behind I could see Marnie cringe.

“I worried more and more with each passing day that you didn’t return to Paradiddle,” Scrim whined. “You and I had something together, something special, something that was like music upon the air, and I knew that you would never simply shuffle-ball-change away from it. Away from us. And now I’ve found you! At long last!” He bellycrawled forward to the edge of the fountain. “What on Earth is that dastardly weathermonger doing to you!”

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“So,” I Asked Casually

  • by Kentpresent your cocoon
  • the syllable is the paragraph of the word
  • would have been described as stocky
  • and BOOM! You got yourself a fire.
  • chewed my lips nervously

Tune in next time part 512      Click Here for Earlier Installments

“So,” I asked casually, “what’s in all this for me?” I meant besides not being eaten by a grizzly bear, and I assumed Brady understood that. The nurse was done with my complicated vest and had started unbuttoning the shirt underneath.

“You owe me,” Brady growled. “After how rude you were two years, ten months, and fifteen days ago. You completely blew me off. You didn’t even bother to present your cocoon.”

I waited, but he didn’t finish the code phrase. I tried the countersign anyway. “You forget that the syllable is the paragraph of the word.” Brady looked confused, but also still smug. It renewed my desire to be away from here.

My chance to skedaddle before the meeting evaporated, as Kabbadan Scrim marched out into the courtyard. Like Brady — and soon myself if the pretty nurse had anything to say about it — he was shirtless. But unlike Brady, Scrim was hairy and uninked, and would have been described as stocky by someone who was trying not to offend him. Another nurse had escorted him this far, and was clearly glad to be done with such duty, but Scrim wasn’t done talking. “So you aim a lightning bolt at the hospital and BOOM! You got yourself a fire.”

As Brady welcomed his unpleasant visitor, the nurse undoing my buttons leaned close and whispered in my ear. “Play along.” And then she kissed me full on the mouth. She obviously didn’t have much experience with the activity, but was going all-in. Brady cleared his throat behind her as the nurse chewed my lips nervously.

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Brady’s Use of the Glassblower’s Code

  • by jencroak out a honking little cry
  • his subtle middle finger
  • “Get him!”
  • Were they plotting against me?
  • “Go! GO!”

Tune in next time part 511      Click Here for Earlier Installments

Brady’s use of the Glassblower’s Code startled me so thoroughly that all I could do was croak out a honking little cry of surprise. I tried to pass it off as a reaction to the nurse’s not-so-tender ministrations. Brady signaled me further with his subtle middle finger (not in the way you’re imagining). The message he conveyed was that there were enemies all around and their orders were merely “Get him!” — meaning me. I looked at the nurse, who was busy undoing the many buttons of my mountaineering uniform’s vest, and the bear. Were they plotting against me? Was the bear not really a bear?

“I only have a moderate understanding of weather control devices, from tinkering with my brother’s,” I said, warily watching the nurse and the bear. “I’ll be fine for casual bluffing, but if Scrim asks any detailed questions, I’ll be out of my depth.”

Brady merely shrugged. Perhaps he wasn’t passing signals after all. Perhaps he was just weird.

“No weather control devices that I’m aware of use etching paste,” I added.

Brady twitched his right ring finger, which if he was using the Shadow Puppeteer’s Cypher would mean, “Go! GO!” But nothing about his demeanor suggested urgency.

Should I let the nurse continue to undress me, or make a break for it?

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I Expected The Fountain to be Bracingly Cold

  • by Kentrule the world with his weather control device
  • His knees don’t bend
  • and, of course, a “heavily sedated but alert grizzly bear.”
  • recount all sorts of salacious tales
  • Glass etching requires etching paste

Tune in next time part 510      Click Here for Earlier Installments

I expected the fountain to be bracingly cold, an unpleasant but sensible measure to aid in reviving me. But it was warm like tropical waves, and I didn’t in the least bit mind sitting in it. The nurse prodded and shoved at my shoulders and back, seeming dissatisfied with my posture.

“Listen,” Brady said. “The League of Tap Dancers is led by Kabbadan Scrim, a madman who wants to rule the world with his weather control device. The fact that he doesn’t have one, and that he spends his days overseeing nefarious tap dancers, makes him grouchy. Bitter, really. See, dancing is something he can never do. His knees don’t bend, like, at all.”

I spread my arms in a dramatic shrug, splashing the pretty nurse. She poked me between the ribs with her knuckle. “Youch! But, really. What does all this have to do with me?”

Brady made one of those smug faces he was reviled for. “He’s expecting to haggle with me over a weather control device. You’re playing the part of my head engineer. When he asks how it works, start to answer and I’ll interrupt after a few seconds.”

The nurse stepped back quickly, and I looked over my shoulder into the fountain. It was filled with salmon, which accounted for the splashing. And then I noticed that I was not the only one seated in there. An enormous animal lounged against the opposite rim, watching me blearily.

Brady chortled. “My head engineer, you see, has an eccentric taste in pets. So,” he summed up, “at the meeting it will be you, and me…” He trailed off, but I knew he meant it would be the two of us and, of course, a “heavily sedated but alert grizzly bear.” At least I hoped it was sedated.

“Kabbadan’s a boor,” Brady declared, “and will recount all sorts of salacious tales about tap. Your true job is to detect any coded messages he works into his soliloquy. He might try to test me, and I’ll need you to feed me the proper responses.”

I shrugged again, this time splashing the bear. “How am I supposed to do that? I’m taking a bath with a bear over here.”

“You know that old expression,” Brady said with a wink. “Glass etching requires etching paste.”

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Brady Snapped his Fingers

  • by jenled from the room by a pretty nurse
  • “Still?”
  • another great splash
  • it tickles
  • time is not on our side

Tune in next time part 509      Click Here for Earlier Installments

Brady snapped his fingers and I was led from the room by a pretty nurse who entered through the stone door. On the other side of that gaping entry was a lush garden with a fountain full of splashing fish in the center. I recognized it and my legs wobbled. “Slow down, Brady,” I said. “I’m woozy.”

“Still?” he sneered.

Something in the fountain gave another great splash. Maybe it wasn’t a fish at all…

“I took a lot of darts,” I said, playing up my disorientation. “And I spent a long time in the thin air of the Paradoxica Mountains. Down here there’s so much oxygen it tickles my lungs and brain.”

“Well get your shit together,” Brady said as he directed the nurse to seat me in the fountain. “The mimes have signed a treaty with the League of Tap Dancers, and time is not on our side.”

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The Tattoo Was Quite Unmistakable

  • by Kentwearing a diamond wedding band
  • seeing it swing upon its huge hinges
  • casually raised his wrist to his mouth
  • recognized from my childhood
  • “I’ll show you, you silly ass!”

Tune in next time part 508      Click Here for Earlier Installments

The tattoo was quite unmistakable, but still I squinted twice at his face to be sure it was really the same man. The last time we met, he’d been wearing a diamond wedding band, but today his fingers were ringless.

A gigantic stone door at the other end of the chamber opened. It made no sound, but seeing it swing upon its huge hinges and smelling the warm spring breeze it admitted caused me to realize that I didn’t know where I was. This room had no plush yetis, no crib, and no Jason.

“Where have you taken me, Brady?”

Brady casually raised his wrist to his mouth to fog the crystal of his expensive watch before polishing it on his jeans. He said nothing, but wore a smug expression that made me mad enough to accelerate my recovery from the drugged darts. I wobbled to my feet, staring at his chest tattoo, at the three-by-three grid of faces I recognized from my childhood. When Brady flexed his pecs and rippled his abs, the family members winked and nodded lewdly. The effect was off-putting and I could see why his marriage hadn’t worked.

And then I noticed that the face in the center of the pattern was one that didn’t go with the show. It was a stranger’s face. Had Brady’s tattoo always been like that? Or was this some kind of recent revision? And what did it mean?

“Well?” I demanded. “Are you going to tell me where I am?”

“I’ll show you, you silly ass!”

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I Tried to ask Jason

  • by jenprobably through some false pretense
  • chocolate pudding
  • truly excessive amount of farting
  • depicted the Brady Bunch
  • two years, ten months, and fifteen days ago

Tune in next time part 507      Click Here for Earlier Installments

I tried to ask Jason how he’d managed to get the dart-spitting toys installed in the nursery, but my mouth wouldn’t work. It was probably through some false pretense, and he would likely not tell me the details anyway.

When I came to, my muscles felt like chocolate pudding and I was farting a lot. A lot a lot. It was a truly excessive amount of farting. Those symptoms helped me identify the tranquilizer in the darts, which did me little good.

A shirtless man stood before me, his hairless chest covered with an elaborate tattoo that depicted the Brady Bunch on their Hawaiian vacation. The last time I saw this guy was two years, ten months, and fifteen days ago. He was not my biggest fan. I groaned. And farted.

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