Category: Stichomancy Prompts

Kanye Can See Things

  • by jensee things we mortals cannot
  • I spat at her
  • not, however, universally popular among actual rappers
  • Officious little prick.
  • not a significant source of riboflavin

“Kanye can see things we mortals cannot,” I spat at her, “and according to him Wild Puma energy drink is not a significant source of riboflavin. It may be popular with teenagers, it is not, however, universally popular among actual rappers because they listen to Kanye. And that is why I refuse to stock it in my store.”

The Wild Puma sales rep sneered at me. “Officious little prick.”

about stichomancy writing prompts

try our stichomancy writing prompt generator!

“We Head Back To The Pier”

  • k-avatarmost likely had a perfect tan
  • Lazy Canadians
  • try another flavor
  • “You’re worth it.”
  • with segmented metal fins

Tune In Next Time Part 11                              Click Here for Earlier Installments

“We head back to the pier,” I said, my mind suddenly connecting the dots. Tessa scowled at me, nodding bitterly.

“Okay, mister smarty-pants, what’s the next step in my plan?” She still had her arms crossed, carrying her plentiful bosom like a coed’s textbooks. Even in this awful light, even just minutes after being drugged into unconsciousness, she was radiant, most likely had a perfect tan, probably sans tan lines. My train of thought toppled comically off its tracks.

She laughed at me, but the ice in her gaze was melting. “This is just like that song by Lazy Canadians.”

“You mean ‘Try Another Flavor’?” I asked. It was about boobs.

“No, silly! I mean ‘Pirate Booty,’ the one about treasure buried in the sand.”

My mental derailment reversed itself. That was it! Everything started with the map, and with whatever lay buried amid that dead forest of pilings. But we couldn’t forget that John had the briefcase, and that he’d get it open eventually. Tessa’s smile grew warmer yet, reminding me of when things were better.

“Sorry for all the kerfuffle,” I muttered, not sure I wanted her to hear it.

“You’re worth it.” She put a hand on my shoulder. “Before we go running off to the pier, we have to think about what we’ll need when we get there. Some way of excavating the sand, underwater, without being seen. I don’t even know what that would look like.”

I did. It was my own invention, a submersible digging machine with segmented metal fins. John didn’t know about it, no one did. Was I ready to show it to Tessa? It seemed I would have no choice.

bonus points for using them in order

about stichomancy writing prompts

try our stichomancy writing prompt generator!

“I Don’t Trust Your Ideas”

  • by jenground patrol had proved ineffective
  • arrested in London
  • You think your great big husband will protect you?
  • Six hours after injection
  • you’re never going to win the lottery

Tune In Next Time Part 10                              Click Here for Earlier Installments

“I don’t trust your ideas,” Tessa spat. “Not after London.”

I winced, remembering how my idea for ground patrol had proved ineffective during the Barclay’s bank heist, leading to Tessa being arrested in London, and John and me in Birmingham. The charges hadn’t stuck, but it had been an unpleasant couple of weeks for the three of us and apparently Tessa held a grudge.

“Things are different now,” I said.

“I should have listened to John all those years ago when he tried to warn me about you. He was there at our wedding you know, trying to talk me out of it. He said, ‘You think your great big husband will protect you? That asshole only wants to get into your pants. You don’t believe me? Go ahead and marry him. Six hours after injection, or ejaculation, or whatever you want to call it, he’ll be out the door. Girls always want to be lucky in love, but you Tessa, you’re never going to win the lottery.'” She turned back to glare daggers at me. “And he was right.”

“That wasn’t a real wedding, babe. You know that! It was all part of the plan.”

“Your plans suck. This time it’s my turn to be in charge. Now here’s what we’ll do…”

bonus points for using them in order

about stichomancy writing prompts

try our stichomancy writing prompt generator!

John’s Fist Came Toward My Face

  • k-avatarpizza cutter, thick with blood.
  • Dr Pepper wrangling
  • as a speckled trout to a fly
  • in inverse ratio to his prowess among men
  • too strong for him

Tune In Next Time Part 9                              Click Here for Earlier Installments

John’s fist came toward my face, but when I ducked that I put my chin directly in line for the snap-kick that was the true attack. It was the same move I fell for last time, the cheap fake-out I’m as drawn to as a speckled trout to a fly. I came to with ringing ears and double vision in time to see John leaving with the giraffe-hide briefcase, wearing my damp gloves.

Damn him. I sat up rubbing my jaw and looked over at Tessa, who was already stirring. Either she was tougher than I knew, or else that tranquilizer had lost potency over time.

Tessa sat up, rubbing her temples. She glanced at me, and said, “Don’t be too worried, the locks on that thing are too strong for him.”

I nodded, more out of hope than any faith in those locks. Then again, my mentor always told me that one’s capacity for puzzling minutiae is in inverse ratio to his prowess among men. That had always just felt like a zen riddle, but in this case I could see its applicability.

“So what happened? Did he have a blowgun or something? Got us both, I see.”

It was tempting to just nod again, but I knew if I lied to her now we would never be okay again. My memory lurched to a linoleum floor and a pizza cutter, thick with blood. So I confessed to the tranquilizer on the handle of the briefcase.

She stood and bellowed down at me, “You son of a misbegotten, Dr Pepper wrangling,  burrito slinger!” She spun away and folded her arms, staring out the window.

“Hey, easy with the casual racism, babe.” I stood up. “Besides, I’m only part Indian. And I have an idea.”

about stichomancy writing prompts

try our stichomancy writing prompt generator!

The Himalayas Were Breathtaking

  • by jenwarm my numb fingers
  • to meet a yeti
  • “Don’t you appreciate my cuisine?”
  • — all those beautiful bullfrogs
  • threatening face of a Doberman

The Himalayas were breathtaking in the moonlight, but even colder than I anticipated. I rubbed my hands together over the fire to warm my numb fingers. This was the vacation of a lifetime, and while many in my group were here to climb Everest, I had a different objective: to meet a yeti. Tomorrow we would hike to base camp, after which we would go our separate ways. That meant a celebratory feast this evening, with plenty of food prepared by the tour company’s French chef.

“Don’t you appreciate my cuisine?” grumbled Henrí. “I brought the ingredients all the way from Marseilles packed in dry ice.”

I, along with my fellow hikers, stared at the display of grisly drumsticks, the webbed feet still intact. I don’t know what the rest of them were thinking, but I could not get rid of the image of the frogs they’d come from — all those beautiful bullfrogs slaughtered for their meaty little thighs.

I was hungry though, so I grabbed one of the frog legs and took a tentative bite. Before the flavor could register, a creature bounded into our camp. It was a large, hairy white biped with the threatening face of a Doberman. Well, the teeth of a Doberman anyway.

It could only be the yeti I’d come to see!

It plucked the frog leg from my hand and sniffed it, then shoved the whole thing in its mouth, bones and all. Such a majestic creature! I managed to get my camera out and begin filming as it gorged itself on the rest of Henrí’s feast. When it loped off into the night I had to make a quick decision. Would I return home to sell my footage, or would I follow the beast into its forbidding mountain home?

bonus points for using them in order!

about stichomancy writing prompts

try our stichomancy writing prompt generator!

It Was a Muggy August Night

  • k-avatarshe’s not your typical Russian.
  • fishing on the banks of a river in Delaware
  • flitted from the gloom into the light
  • use Pavlovian conditioning for sex
  • large enough for a man to pass through

It was a muggy August night much like tonight when I was fishing on the banks of a river in Delaware and she flitted from the gloom into the light of my lantern, showing me a smile like a croc and a tunnel in the riverbank large enough for a man to pass through, which led to her den, where she taught me how to use Pavlovian conditioning for sex, and that’s why I disagree with anyone who says she’s not your typical Russian.

bonus points for using them all in one sentence

about stichomancy writing prompts

try our stichomancy writing prompt generator!

In The Utility Tunnels

  • by jenranged themselves in front of a small apple tree
  • flying swiftly and steadily
  • ended up eating mostly side dishes
  • very intricate evolutions
  • an abandoned bomb shelter deep beneath the city

In the utility tunnels that emerge from an abandoned bomb shelter deep beneath the city lives a strange race of creatures that, before radiation caused very intricate evolutions in their DNA, were once the sort of lower-teir relatives who ended up eating mostly side dishes at Thanksgiving because they lacked the nimbleness and fortitude that led to their dominant cousins flying swiftly and steadily up the buffet line, gorging themselves on the turkey and the various pies, and when these creatures finally found their way to the surface they ranged themselves in front of a small apple tree and scratched their heads, for they had never seen its like before.

double bonus points for using them in reverse order in one sentence

about stichomancy writing prompts

try our stichomancy writing prompt generator!

Haus of Haunted Smellz

  • k-avatarbitten by a green lizard
  • just take rotten eggs
  • if you don’t want to cry today
  • painstakingly coded virtual replicas
  • no better than a haunted house

Video Game Review: Haus of Haunted Smellz

If you don’t want to cry today, don’t spend any money on this game. There’s not much to it, and it’s lame. You just take rotten eggs, well, painstakingly coded virtual replicas of rotten eggs, and throw them at things. The setting is supposed to be creeptastic, but it’s no better than a haunted house in the kiddie section of a milquetoast theme park. The ghouls in the mansion are easy to evade, but getting to level two without being bitten by a green lizard — which sends you back to the start — is nearly impossible.

about stichomancy writing prompts

try our stichomancy writing prompt generator!

 

At That Moment

  • by jendo not leave a trace
  • the best-looking guy in the room
  • the adults took turns
  • “That was a game, wasn’t it?”
  • I know you’re part Indian!

Tune In Next Time Part 8                              Click Here for Earlier Installments

At that moment Tessa’s eyes rolled back and she slumped to the floor, the giraffe-hide briefcase slipping from her grip. She should have remembered that I’m quite partial to contact-tranquilizers (especially the kinds that do not leave a trace on a tox screen), and always smeared them liberally on the handles of all of my briefcases.

I pulled a pair of soggy gloves from my pocket and wrung the seawater out of them. I may not be the best-looking guy in the room, but I’m usually the cleverest. When I was young and the only child in the cult, the adults took turns teaching me the many skills they used to evade the authorities. No matter how challenging the lesson I always laughed and said, “That was a game, wasn’t it?” That attitude got me far in life.

But enough about me.

John still stood just inside the doorway, eyeing Tessa on the floor. Or, more likely, eyeing the briefcase.

“I can’t let you have it,” he said without looking at me. “I know you’re part Indian! I know you’ll sell it to your cohorts back in Mumbai!”

I chuckled at his total misapprehension of my motives, and that’s when he pounced.

 

bonus points for using them in order!

about stichomancy writing prompts

try our stichomancy writing prompt generator!

Who Are These People?

  • k-avatar“Revenge.”
  • Clayton and his wife simultaneously noticed
  • did not attempt to check her tears
  • She was alone.
  • visit him every weekend

Tune In Next Time Part 7                              Click Here for Earlier Installments

“Who are these people?” John shouted over the throbbing music. “This is supposed to be a law firm!”

I wagged my head and held up my empty palms, but I did have a faint notion what was going on. Officially, this place was the offices of Gallows-Clayton, Ltd., but when Clayton and his wife simultaneously noticed that they could make more money renting it out for parties, and that said parties would bring in droves of lithe, horny young people, they shifted their business model from corporate law to glowsticks and ketamine.

A stage had been constructed over the hidden floor panel. John searched along its lip for some way to get underneath, while I sought the improvised backstage area. Inside a corner office being used as some kind of dressing room, I discovered Tessa. She was alone. Looking up when I came in, she did not attempt to check her tears. In her lap was the giraffe-hide briefcase, so I knew she’d found a way to the hidden compartment.

“Tessa, why?”

“Revenge.”

I just stared at her, unable to conceive of what wrong would drive her to madness in the name of vengeance. With each turning of the diabolical wheel that was my business partnership with John, through all our betrayals and stupid macho games, we both had always looked out for this woman.

“You want the case,” she spat. “You want it before John finds us. That’s all you care about.”

She had me there. I had been edging forward, compelled by my desperation to control the destiny of the items in that case, to deprive John — and Tessa — of them.

She stood, and John burst in. He froze in the doorway and his eyes locked onto the briefcase. After a tense second he said, “Girl, you’re cornered. So just hand it over and we’ll all go join the party out there.”

Tears still flowing, Tessa began to laugh. “I’m in charge, now! I have the briefcase, and what I say goes unless you want me to open it.” I shook my head and saw John doing the same. “Good, then we understand each other. I’m afraid one of you will be taking the fall, but the other one can visit him every weekend.”

 

about stichomancy writing prompts

try our stichomancy writing prompt generator!