Category: Stichomancy Prompts

Oksana Left Jim Unattended

  • by Kentat the prearranged time
  • hide in the coat closet
  • “If you’re lonely you can
  • half the size of his thumb
  • trying to get your money back at the tattoo parlor

Tune in next time part 474      Click Here for Earlier Installments

Oksana left Jim unattended, making this the best chance I would ever get to free him. I slithered over the rocky floor to where he lay chained, and started picking the locks before he even realized I was there.

“What are you doing? Stop!” he hissed.

“I’m saving you, dumbass!” I hissed back.

“You’re spoiling the whole gambit,” he whispered back. “This is our only way to find out who’s in league with Oksana. Until the bidders arrive at the prearranged time, you should just go hide in the coat closet. I’m fine, it’s all under control.”

“The coat closet of the yeti cavern? Jim, think this through. What’s going to happen to you?”

He grinned. “All under control. But, you might not see me for a while after this.” His grin widened. “If you’re lonely you can probably get Oksana to chain you up in my place. Now, get out of sight before someone shows up. The guard’s brain is about half the size of his thumb, but that won’t matter if he spots you.”

I slunk back to my hiding place. Arguing with Jim was like trying to get your money back at the tattoo parlor: he’d just talk you into paying even more to let him add to the problems. Hopefully he knew what he was talking about this time.

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I Wondered Who Oksana had Invited

  • by jentheir headquarters in Virginia
  • and she wouldn’t say
  • his subtle middle finger
  • “Oh, it’s going to be that kind of a party!”
  • between the USA and USSR

Tune in next time part 473      Click Here for Earlier Installments

I wondered who Oksana had invited to her auction. Which foreign faction would be most interested in the secrets inside Jim’s head? If I were lucky it would be the Contrarian Secret Police, and they would bundle him off to their headquarters in Virginiastan. If I were unlucky it would be the CIA and they would disappear him to their headquarters in Virginia.

I deployed my periscope again as Jim did the heavy interrogational lifting for me, trying to get Oksana to tell him who the bidders would be. But no matter how he charmed and cajoled her, she merely chuckled, and she wouldn’t say a word about it. In desperation Jim crooked his subtle middle finger at her in a most flirtatious manner (or at least as flirtatiously as his bonds would allow), but even that failed to make her crack.

With a final cruel laugh, Oksana said, “I’m going to go take a shower and get dressed. The ninjas will be back to clean you up and administer the hallucinogens.”

Jim tried to sound nonchalant, but I detected a quaver of fear in his drawl. “I didn’t know it was going to be that kind of party.”

“Oh, it’s going to be that kind of a party!” Oksana gleefully assured. “In grand Colloquilian tradition.”

The last grand Colloquilian hallucination auction bacchanal that I had heard of nearly started a war between the USA and USSR, and that was a good decade after the USSR collapsed.

I needed to get Jim the hell out of this cave.

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It Was A Challenge To Concentrate

  • by KentI figured that my family constituted enough of a sample size
  • whispering my name
  • smack-bang in the middle
  • I am innocent of the falsehood
  • newly forged iron bolts

Tune in next time part 472      Click Here for Earlier Installments

It was a challenge to concentrate on puzzling out Jim’s game when I could still hear him and Oksana, who thought they were totally alone. He was mostly just murmuring agreeably, but she had warmed to her subject. “By the way, in Colloquilia no one would say he abdicated. They’d say he jumped the shark. Now lie back and I’ll show you something else that phrase often refers to.”

“I thought it was a periscope,” Jim said with a chuckle. Oksana replied at length explaining how it could be both, and I knew by the breathlessness in her voice that she was leaving none of his shark unjumped in the process.

Why try to broker an alliance with deposed monarchs of an enemy realm? I figured that my family constituted enough of a sample size to find some meaningful patterns. My own marriage to a Contrarian warlord’s daughter would be part of any such pattern, which must have been why the more I tried to focus on the riddle the more it seemed someone inside my skull was whispering my name, claiming the reason I couldn’t get the picture was that I was smack-bang in the middle of all of it.

Oksana reached a crescendo of sharks and/or periscopes, her ecstasy resonating through the passageways.

“Really?” Jim drawled.

After a small laugh, she said, “I am innocent of the falsehood so many women commit. You, sir, are quite the catch. And that is why I shall not be releasing you from the restraints. Oh, pull as hard as you like. Those are newly forged iron bolts holding the chains fast to the cavern floor. I can’t have you vanishing on me before I collect the winning bid.”

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“What a Magnificent Periscope!”

  • by jenrecently found love for the colloquialisms
  • and six half-brothers
  • hoped it was a prank
  • your crazy-ass granddaddy
  • cats are not a rare species

Tune in next time part 471      Click Here for Earlier Installments

“What a magnificent periscope!” Oksana squealed.

For one chilling second I thought I’d been spotted, until I realized she was utterly fixated on what she’d found in Jim’s leather trousers. I had no interest in watching their libidinal activities, so I put my own (actual) periscope away. I could still hear them, though.

Jim purred, “Your recently found love for the Colloquialisms is adorable.”

“Colloquilia is a beautiful country,” Oksana said, her voice breathy. “And their figures of speech even more so.”

“I used to spend summers there with my twin sisters and six half-brothers,” Jim drawled.

That was a lie. With our father and mother both being president at various times, travel to the enemy nation of Colloquilia was strictly forbidden. I didn’t know what Jim was up to, but I hoped it was a prank as opposed to treason.

Jim went on, “Why did your crazy-ass granddaddy abdicate the throne?”

“He didn’t have a choice, if he wanted to live,” Oksana replied. “Now, Jim, I want you to stalk me like a Paradoxica Snow Panther.”

Oksana was Colloquilian? Snow cats are not a rare species here in the mountains, but exiled Colloquilian royalty certainly are.

What was Jim up to?

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Jim’s Bump and Grind Routine

  • by Kentnot a fan of hand-me-down underpants
  • That made him laugh.
  • in bridal garb
  • “DIY or die”
  • produce a child if they could

Tune in next time part 470      Click Here for Earlier Installments

Jim’s bump and grind routine was becoming undignified. To Oksana he said, “I’m not a fan of hand-me-down underpants, as a rule, but for you I’d make an exception.” I caught the contralto warble of her voice but couldn’t tell what she was saying in reply. Then she gave a little shimmy in her seat. That made him laugh. “At this rate you’ll have me in bridal garb by sundown,” Jim chided in his Southern-fried cadences.

Oksana’s painted nails snagged the waistband of Jim’s leather pants. The stitching held as she drew him nearer, which I found moderately surprising given his infamous “DIY or die” mentality and feeble sewing skills.

“Leave us,” Oksana said clearly in a husky voice, and the ninja-yeti dutifully donned their costume heads and trooped out the passageway, trudging right past me.

One of them muttered to his companion, “I knew those two would try to produce a child if they could get a few minutes alone.”

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I Held My Gloved Hands Out

  • by jenshe says, “Open up your mouth, man.”
  • congratulating myself on my lucky escape
  • “Where did all these ninjas come from?”
  • didn’t hate him enough to turn down the money
  • orgy of sadness

Tune in next time part 469      Click Here for Earlier Installments

I held my gloved hands out, palm up, to show that they were empty. From the darkness a rough voice said something in a language I didn’t understand. The yeti in front of me said, “It’s an order straight from Oksana. He said, ‘She says, “Open up your mouth, man.” So you better cooperate. Let me see what’s in there.” Enormous furry fingers reached for my mouth, but just then, in a rush of rebounding vowel sounds, my contingent of yodelers came pouring from the passageway behind me. The yeti was startled, and I took advantage of the confusion to disappear into the shadows, congratulating myself on my lucky escape from cryptozoological dentistry.

“Where did all these ninjas come from?” the yeti exclaimed, strong evidence that he wasn’t the brightest biped in the mountain.

I crept along the walls of the cavern, through a maze of tunnels, searching for Oksana and my brother. As the yeti howls and yodeler ululations died down behind me, I could hear Jim’s voice up ahead. I bellycrawled to the corner and used my climbing suit’s periscope to peer around the final corner. Jim was shirtless, posing for a rapt Oksana. They were surrounded by a dozen people in yeti costumes, with the heads removed to reveal their black hoods and masks.

“Where did all these ninjas come from?” I asked myself.

Jim was putting the moves on Oksana, even while he drawled on about who had hired him to bring Isolde to Enigma Fortress. “Arlo’s a dick of course. I’ve always hated him. But I didn’t hate him enough to turn down the money.” He swiveled his hips to keep Oksana’s attention. “When he and Harry approached me at the Annual Royal Contrarian Winter Solstice Carnival and Orgy of Sadness, I heard them out. Their plan made me feel bad for poor Isolde, so I took their money and brought her here where she’d be safe.” He flexed. “Relatively safe, anyway.”

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From Our Altitude

  • by Kentthe city would look like a shaved cat
  • “Now, there’s an exhibition of ball control,”
  • Lady Danger.
  • among the ruins
  • told me to open my palm

Tune in next time part 468      Click Here for Earlier Installments

From our altitude, if we could have seen down through the blizzard to the distant Contrarian capital, the city would look like a shaved cat sunning itself upon the marshy plains. And yet higher we had to climb. I swung my axe tirelessly at the head of the expedition, to the ongoing admiration of my men. “Now, there’s an exhibition of ball control,” I heard a yeoman yodeler remark.

The entrance to the supposed yeti cavern was supposedly not much farther, and though the treacherous conditions demanded my full attention still my mind was restless over the impending confrontation with Oksana. The yodelers behind me were nervous too. They had heard rumors about her, and they had their own name for her as well: Lady Danger.

Mountainfolk superstition held that this woman commanded a battalion of yeti, and that she dwelled with them deep in the myriad tunnels within the peak, among the ruins of a long-dead yeti civilization. And it seemed that only the most superstitious of the folk were accepted into the garrisons.

My next mighty axe-swing shattered a wall of ice and I tumbled into the gaping hole revealed in the rock face beneath. There was no way to control my descent as I rolled and bounced down what felt like miles of meandering passages, finally sprawling on a hard, flat surface.

I could see nothing at first, but slowly my eyes adapted to the gloom and I detected lumbering shapes all around me. One of the furry white bipeds came close, and in a guttural voice with a heavy Harmonian accent, told me to open my palm.

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I Led My Yodelers into the Teeth of the Blizzard

  • by jencreating different shadows
  • shoes I never want to walk a mile in
  • silver-haired former yacht builder
  • heavy gold watch chain
  • with a great deal of giggling and modesty

Tune in next time part 467      Click Here for Earlier Installments

I led my yodelers into the teeth of the blizzard. Their headlamps didn’t do much to light our way, creating different shadows every second as the shifting winds threw the snow around.

Contrarian mountaineering boots are made of wood and lined with fur. They are shoes I never want to walk a mile in on flat ground, but they are quite warm. I made a mental note to, upon my return to Enigma Fortress, dictate a letter of appreciation to the silver-haired former yacht builder who took up cobbling in his retirement at the behest of the Warlord, and now uses his boatbuilding skills to construct the cozy footwear of the Mountain Garrisons.

Soon our way was practically vertical. I made great use of the ice axe that dangled between my legs on a heavy gold watch chain. My yodelers complimented my climbing technique, which I’d learned from John, who learned it during his childhood at the Tibetan monastery. They kept praising me, really going overboard with it until, with a great deal of giggling and modesty, I taught them my secret axe-wielding maneuver.

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I Needed a Very Enthusiastic Team

  • by Kentbitter cold assailed me.
  • who don’t sell goat-milk candy
  • vortex of mystery, heartbreak, and intrigue
  • the president in a weird jumpsuit
  • Real gung ho.

Tune in next time part 466      Click Here for Earlier Installments

I needed a very enthusiastic team for this mission. Real gung ho. Lucky for me, the yodeler brigade was stocked with just this kind of fanatical adrenaline junkie. Unfortunately, none of those Contrarian lunatics could have cared less about my brother, so to rile them up I showed them pictures of the president in a weird jumpsuit, neglecting to point out that he was also my brother.

“Bravery alone will not help you in the mountains,” Doctor Nanna said. “The storm raging right now over Hughshel Knot Pass is a vortex of mystery, heartbreak, and intrigue. Your soldiers–”

“They’re yodelers,” I corrected.

She blinked once, slowly. “Your yodelers do not understand the alpine wilderness. Make use of the locals. But hire only guides who don’t sell goat-milk candy as a side hustle. They need to be focused on getting you to the yeti caverns.”

“We are re-uh-haa-dy!” chorused my expeditionary force. I gestured for the doors to be opened, and a howling wind and bitter cold assailed me.

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My Blue-Gray Mountaineering Uniform

  • by jenforced to meet with the King of Swaziland to seek clemency
  • scandalous exhibits
  • his mad rush
  • I’m taking a ride with my best friend
  • dangle from the undercarriage like a bat

Tune in next time part 465      Click Here for Earlier Installments

My blue-gray mountaineering uniform bore a strong resemblance to the official groveling suit John wore when he was forced to meet with the King of Swaziland to seek clemency for the series of scandalous exhibits he’d staged across southern Africa in his mad rush to become an infamous performance artist.

“By wearing this outfit it’s almost like I’m taking a ride with my best friend,” I said into the mirror. “Back when life was simpler. Back before he betrayed me.”

It took me a while to do up all the silvery buttons on the vest, and I was confounded by this weird chain harness that went on like a pair of clanky speedos over the pants, and had a holster for my ice axe, that for some reason let it dangle from the undercarriage like a bat. Or, given that it was between my legs, like something else altogether.

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