Category: Stichomancy Prompts

The Elaborate Calligraphic Numerals

  • by jenshe washed it
  • something was lurking in the shadows
  • These guys can kiss my ass.
  • She’s a beautiful angel
  • um… yesterday

Tune in next time part 433      Click Here for Earlier Installments

The elaborate calligraphic numerals tattooed in gold on the lurker’s cheek identified him immediately as my brother-in-law. “So, William Penn XII, we meet at last.”

“I would have been at the wedding,” he replied with shrug, “except that I have a sworn blood feud with both my father and Fleur. My mother filed all the paperwork when I was but a babe in arms, and you know how Contrarians are about rituals and formalities and all that.” He stroked his cheek. “Mother also gave me this tattoo when I was too young to object.” When he saw my horrified expression he rushed to add, “She washed it first, of course. My cheek, I mean. She was very hygienic, my mum. I’ll give her that.”

I heard a rustling noise. Something was lurking in the shadows behind this man who had been lurking in the shadows.

“What are you doing here?” I demanded.

“I’m sure you’re aware of how highly in demand your ‘exotic substance’ is. I’m afraid that’s my doing.”

The fox appeared from under the bed just long enough to give us a look that said, “These guys can kiss my ass.” He then disappeared again.

“What a lovely fox,” said William.

“Forget about the fox,” I said. “What’s this about you being the one who wants my semen?”

William sighed. “It’s the only way for me to break the blood oath. Well,” he tilted his head and pursed his lips, “the easiest way.” He could see my confusion so he went on. “The easiest way for a Contrarian second-born to nullify a blood feud with the firstborn and heir is to present the firstborn their own firstborn.”

“What?” asked YoYo, which meant I didn’t have to.

William explained, “If my sister’s husband gets my wife pregnant and we give the resultant offspring to Fleur to add to her royal brood, then this ridiculous blood feud will be declared null and void and I will be free to enjoy the life of leisure I am entitled to as prince.”

“Wait,” I said. “You want me to get your wife pregnant?”

“I was hoping to do it without bothering you overmuch, which is why I sent agents to collect samples. I envisioned an in vitro conception. It seems, though, that my orders became garbled.”

“Does Fleur know about this?” I asked.

“Does it really matter?” He waved a hand toward YoYo. “I know you and Fleur have an understanding. Here, meet my wife.” He reached back into the darkness and pulled forward the second lurking figure. “She’s a beautiful angel, wouldn’t you say?”

She truly was lovely, with dark skin and black hair. “What’s your name?” I asked her.

“Um… Yesterday,” she said, licking her lips.

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YoYo Hadn’t Actually Brought Along Any Whipped Cream

  • by Kentstill stiff and salt-stained
  • “Or someone did, anyway.”
  • swaying and bumping in the unclean air
  • an act of obscure sentimentality
  • His vague smile

Tune in next time part 432      Click Here for Earlier Installments

YoYo hadn’t actually brought along any whipped cream, but she did find inventive ways to use the chair. That it took longer than ten minutes didn’t bother me, or her.

Afterwards I was hesitant to don my uniform, because it was still stiff and salt-stained from my journey to Disco Island. But the fabrics were clean, supple and pressed. “You washed my uniform,” I said, but YoYo looked nervously puzzled. “Or someone did, anyway.”

She shrugged and went over to the window to watch the blizzard, hugging herself. “My jeans are too tight, I will not put them back on.” She stood naked, swaying and bumping in the unclean air.

“Where’s that smoke coming from?” I asked. YoYo shrugged some more, and then a deep voice from across the dim room said, “My cigar. Sorry, I’ll put it out.”

YoYo yelped and grabbed a blanket from my bed to cover herself as we both turned to find the person who’d spoken. The shadows at that end of the room made it all but impossible to discern the figure who leaned against the wall, and the lingering cigar smoke didn’t help.

“Heh,” came the stranger’s raspy laugh. “Sending you to this outpost was nothing but an act of obscure sentimentality on your wife’s part. But now, to call you away so suddenly. Doesn’t it make you wonder what she doesn’t want you to see?”

“Identify yourself,” I demanded. “You are speaking to a general of the Contrarian Mountain Garrisons, and you will show proper respect.”

The man leaned forward, out of the murky corner. His vague smile told me that he knew I didn’t recognize him, but the tattoo on his cheek told me who he was all the same.

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“Summon My Zeppelin”

  • by jengoing utterly numb
  • light fixtures had long ago been stolen
  • with such instructors
  • with just ten minutes and a chair
  • kill him and eat him

Tune in next time part 431      Click Here for Earlier Installments

“Summon my zeppelin,” I ordered.

“I’m sorry to say that there’s a blizzard,” said YoYo, not sounding sorry at all. “Your zeppelin is grounded. You will be alerted immediately when it is safe to take to the skies. In the meantime, these jeans are so tight my bottom is going utterly numb. Surely you’d like to help me remove them.”

“Perhaps some other time.” I groped about in the dimness. “Dammit, where’s the light switch?”

“It’s right here,” said YoYo. “But it won’t do you any good.” She explained that the light fixtures had long ago been stolen by marauding Harmonians. “Now about these jeans.”

“If I’m to act as Harry’s lawyer, I need to brush up on Contrarian Law.”

YoYo placed my hands upon her zipper. “I’ve heard that you were educated at The Hopscotch Academy. With such instructors as they have there I’m sure you know more about Contrarian Law than most Contrarian lawyers.”

“There’s no way that’s possible. All things Contrarian are ridiculously complicated.” I looked sternly at her. “What game are you playing, Yolanda?”

“I will show you, with just ten minutes and a chair, and maybe a little bit of whipped cream.”

The thought of YoYo (or myself) covered in whipped cream was too much, and I gave in. The snow was too heavy for my zeppelin to return me to my wife, it was too dark to study for my upcoming legal duties, I had already had sex with YoYo and survived, so no matter what her plan was I felt pretty safe. Plus if she was naked it would be easy to search her for hidden weapons.

“Just once more,” I said, stripping her tight jeans off. “After all, what’s the worst that can happen?”

“If Harry is found guilty his accusers are allowed to kill him and eat him,” YoYo purred, pushing me back onto my feather mattress and startling the fox.

I guess it’s a good thing I never liked Harry very much anyway.

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“Well, Let’s Hear It”

  • by Kenteven the violinists
  • insisted that he call his attorney
  • It wasn’t natural.
  • as if he had touched a Leyden jar.
  • over her tight white elastic panties

Tune in next time part 430      Click Here for Earlier Installments

“Well, let’s hear it,” I said before I thought things through. Yolanda the Yodeler commenced delivering the message at full volume, sending the poor fox scurrying under the bed.

The urgent message stated, “Isolde hasn’t seen Harry in three days, ever since the incident at the cotillion. Most of the orchestra side with Harry, and even the violinists insisted that he call his attorney. But Harry’s attorney vanished last winter during a blizzard of duct tape. Everyone agrees our enemies had something to do with that storm. It wasn’t natural. The Minister of Trapeze caught one of the flakes on his tongue and jumped as if he had touched a Leyden jar. Thus you must abandon your post in the Paradoxica Mountains and return to the capital to act as Harry’s lawyer.”

“Is that all?” I asked.

YoYo nodded. A sly smile made itself comfy on her face like a cat stretching out for a nap as she posed to call my attention to the non-regulation jeans she wore over her tight white elastic panties that I remembered from our time aboard the zeppelin (which were regulation in every way).

The fox poked its head out from under the bed and whimpered at me.

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Alone in My Mountain Fortress Chamber

  • by jenfell into a troubled sleep
  • brushing her wine glass
  • save it, asswipe
  • I thought about the gradient
  • three-legged races, dunk tanks

Tune in next time part 429      Click Here for Earlier Installments

Alone in my mountain fortress chamber, I fell into a troubled sleep. I woke to a squeaking noise, like that a woman makes by brushing her wine glass rim with a damp finger. As my sleep-clouded eyes cleared, I saw that it was merely the fox rubbing his nose on the windowpane. “Save it, asswipe,” I grumbled, throwing my pillow at the beast. “It’s the middle of the night.”

The fox looked at me smugly and curled up to sleep on the pillow, leaving me with nothing to rest my head upon. Would I be able to capture the animal? I could grab it and throw it out into the snow and finally sleep in peace. But then I thought about the gradient of the slope, how the Paradoxica Mountains were practically vertical, and I knew such a toss would likely be fatal to the poor creature. I sighed and laid back on my feather mattress. Surely there were things more uncomfortable than sleeping sans pillow. Things like circuses, three-legged races, dunk tanks…

I tucked my arm under my head and drifted off.

In the morning, blinding sunlight flooded my quarters. YoYo stood at the foot of my bed. When she saw that I was awake, she said, “I have an urgent message from your wife.”

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I Barely Had Time to Get Back Into Uniform

  • by Kenta little tune about banana bread
  • Finding a skull, picking it up,
  • heels of my new boots
  • “A fox, it’s called.”
  • but you have a job to do

Tune in next time part 428      Click Here for Earlier Installments

I barely had time to get back into uniform before the zeppelin docked at Enigma Fortress. Yolanda kept smiling at me in a most unprofessional but endearing manner, and the pilot continued to pretend he could neither see nor hear us, as he’d been doing for the entire journey.

As I strode out onto the gangway extending from the zeppelin’s gondola to the wall of the fortress, an honor guard raised ram horns to their lips and blew me a rather brown-sounding fanfare. Then the fortress’s resident Yodeler, a corporal by the name of Yancy, began the official welcoming ceremony by singing a little tune about banana bread. There was a dance to go with it, which I was expected to perform. I scrambled to remember all the steps. It is a dance that tells a story, a symbolic reenactment of the birth of the entire Contrarian Military-Industrial Complex. Finding a skull, picking it up, then grinding it to powder under the heels of my new boots. Contrarian defense contractors like to focus on dealing with foes who have already been flensed.

My dance moves earned me another inauspicious blast of the horns, and then Yancy led me to my quarters. I pushed open the door and spotted a red blur as something vanished under my bed.

I turned to Yancy for some insight.

“A fox, it’s called.”

I made the universal circular hand gesture for “go on…”

“They’re good luck. Also, if you make friends with it, warm and cuddly in long alpine nights. I’m sure if you’re persistent you and the fox will bond, but you have a job to do so you might not have that kind of free time.”

“Perhaps I have all the luck I need, and the fox can go.”

“All due respect, General, look where you are. I wouldn’t turn down any extra luck in your position.”

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For Four Days My Military Zeppelin Soared Through the Sky

  • by jengreat unconquerable natural wonder
  • grow weary of having a whimsical name
  • stories of properly requited love
  • crystal crown
  • like two cats with their tails tied together

Tune in next time part 427      Click Here for Earlier Installments

For four days my military zeppelin soared through the sky toward Enigma Fortress, and the entire time my libido was a great unconquerable natural wonder, despite the best efforts of Yolanda the Yodeler. She went about the gondola scantily clad, and insisted that I call her YoYo. I myself would grow weary of having a whimsical name like that. It’s good that my moniker is so sensible.

When we were still one day out from the fortress, the Paradoxica Mountains appeared below us. YoYo became desperate to have her way with me, and I must admit I found her frenzy both flattering and arousing. I had become quite accustomed to frequent releases and my four day dry spell felt interminable.

As I held YoYo at arms’ length I asked her why she was so desperate. I needed to know what it was that made my fluids so exotic and desirable. She pouted and told me stories of properly requited love, implying that it was me she coveted and not the substances my body produced. She knocked the General hat from my head and replaced it with a crystal crown, declaring me the king of her heart. I could resist her charms no longer, and we made love in the Contrarian fashion. Instead of doggy-style, it’s like two cats with their tails tied together. It’s quite ritualistic, and took most of the rest of our flight time.

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I Looked the Yodeler Up and Down

  • by Kentcertainly knew about DNA
  • Over. And over. And over again.
  • vibrating sensuously
  • I do more than flip burgers
  • really good cocktail party music

Tune in next time part 426      Click Here for Earlier Installments

I looked the Yodeler up and down, keeping my face blank. It seemed that despite the limited number of people aboard the zeppelin, at least one of them was indeed after my semen. But for what reason? I would have five days to find out.

The Contrarian educational system placed little emphasis on science, but even so she certainly knew about DNA. Not that I knew with any certainty that the special component rumored to inhabit my fluids was the DNA. All I knew was that various factions had extracted samples from me. Over. And over. And over again.

“The hum of the propellers drives me a little wild,” she said, her voice vibrating sensuously. “Without release, I might go mad before we reach the fortress.”

“I’m still tired,” I said. “Ask me again in a little while.” The fact was, I wasn’t tired at all. Being knocked out by cobra yoga had given me the best sleep I’d had in ages. My plan was to let this woman become desperate, at which point she’d be more likely to reveal information.

She turned away and went to the cockpit. I felt pretty proud of myself for coming up with a plan so quickly. As we used to say at the Academy, I do more than flip burgers — I also know how to choose really good cocktail party music.

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My Yodeler Companion Looked at Me Askance

  • by jencreep to his side unseen
  • give their marriage a second chance
  • I suppose it’s very nice
  • their Dresden-china type of prettiness
  • Who’s jealous?

Tune in next time part 425      Click Here for Earlier Installments

My Yodeler companion looked at me askance. “I don’t know how it is in the military of your backwards country, but Contrarian Generals are expected to be skilled oneiromancers. How else will they plan effective battle strategies? The subconscious is like a man, a man who speaks through dreams, and a Contrarian General knows how to creep to his side unseen and eavesdrop, thereby gaining valuable knowledge.”

That explained an awful lot about Contrarian military strategy.

“I’ll read up on the topic before we land,” I said. “Are there any messages for me? Something from my wife perhaps?” I wanted to know if my trip to the Paradoxica Region was a permanent exile.

“Indeed there is, General. Shall I deliver it?”

I nodded.

She stood up straight and clasped her hands together in front of her chest, then began to yodel. It was very loud, and I took a step backwards. Instead of the standard nonsense syllables, her ululations contained words. “General, I hope this message finds you well. The children are all roly-poly and adorable, but not as roly-poly as Isolde. Her pregnancy progresses apace. The soothsayer is sure that she’s carrying triplets at least, possibly more. Isolde and Harry have gone into counseling to give their marriage a second chance. Harry’s such a jealous tit about the whole proxy marriage. Most women would not tolerate his childish behavior. I suppose it’s very nice for him that Isolde is crazy about him. Assuming that Enigma Fortress has not been carried away by an avalanche I will visit you there when it’s time to conceive our next children.” The yodeler fell silent, her final words echoing around the gondola for a few seconds.

“Any other messages?” I was hoping for orders of some kind, an idea of my mission.

“That’s all,” said the Yodeler. She sighed. “Your wife and her sisters are all so beautiful, with their Dresden-china type of prettiness. And you’re so ruggedly handsome.”

“It sounds like you’re jealous.” She had no reason to be, as she was quite a looker.

“Who’s jealous?” She stepped closer and murmured in my ear, “Your wife may be beautiful, but she’s not here on this zeppelin, and I am.”

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I Didn’t Need the Spyglass

  • by Kenttwitch in her palm
  • you’re holding a pair of scissors
  • trickles from its point
  • with a horse trainer’s eyes
  • something tells me that I shall soon know

Tune in next time part 424      Click Here for Earlier Installments

I didn’t need the spyglass to see that we were still over open water. I extended it anyway, to look for ships or islets or anything else of interest.

The woman who’d awakened me came to my side at the window. I saw by her garb that she was in the Mountain Garrison Messaging Corps, commonly known as the Yodelers. I thought she was about to finally tell me her name, but she launched instead into a description of a dream that she was reminded of by the twitch in her palm.

“It was the type of dream where you’re holding a pair of scissors and everyone who sees you points and screams, then runs away. And when you look down at the scissors you see that a blue liquid runs down one blade and trickles from its point. And you hold a jar in your other hand, with a horse trainer’s eyes in it, bobbing about in blue liquid among a hodge-podge of combs and more scissors. It was not that exact dream, of course, just one of that general type. General. Do you know what such dreams mean?”

“No,” I said, “but something tells me that I shall soon know.”

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