Tagged: brother

I Did Not Kiss the Yeti

  • by jendude deserves a crown
  • should have been written on toilet tissue
  • be a couple publicly
  • “I actually looked at it
  • , not just snow.

Tune in next time part 503      Click Here for Earlier Installments

I did not kiss the yeti.

I would have been willing to if it would make the damn auction move faster, but the yeti wasn’t into it. She recoiled. While she argued about propriety with the furry-boots woman, I ducked under the buffet table and retrieved her headband. She snapped it back in place and stomped off. The furry-boots woman said to me, “If she’s married, dude deserves a crown for putting up with her.”

I froze. It was a coded message that should have been written on toilet tissue and passed discreetly between dance partners. Hearing it spoken aloud I wasn’t sure how to respond. Was it just a coincidence, or was this woman really saying that she wanted to be a couple publicly with me? I’d never met her before, but perhaps she and Jason were engaged in a secret romance.

Furry Boots herded me into the corner. “I can tell by your tongue that you’re not Jason,” she murmured. “I actually looked at it really closely and saw the golden tattoos.”

I didn’t want to admit to not being Jason. “How do you presume to know so much about the tongues of my brother and myself?”

“I know so much about Jason’s tongue because he licks many things off of me, not just snow. Jason’s tongue has a blue tattoo, but none in gold.”

bonus points for using them in order

about stichomancy writing prompts

try our stichomancy writing prompt generator!

An Expensive Snakeskin Jacket and a Notoriously Bad Memory

  • by jenon her face and neck
  • “Look at that thing, man.”
  • strange suction-cup-shaped marks
  • sees my face
  • nickname was Cookie

Tune in next time part 497      Click Here for Earlier Installments

An expensive snakeskin jacket and a notoriously bad memory? There was only one person John could think he was talking to, my brother Troy. Troy, whose nickname was Cookie, looked exactly like his twin Trent, but he didn’t look much like me. “As soon as John sees my face and its total lack of strange suction-cup-shaped marks, he’ll know I’m not Troy,” I thought. “Or Trent for that matter, but Trent is known for his exceptionally sharp memory and his ludicrously expensive but little-worn crocodile skin jacket. It’s easy to tell them apart.” Worse than John discovering that he was not talking to Troy would be having John discover he was not talking to Troy by discovering the real Troy. I needed a distraction so I could get away from John and observe from a distance.

“Look at that thing, man.” I pointed to a woman on the other side of the cavern with a large tattoo on her face and neck. When John turned away, I ducked under the buffet table. And none too soon. Almost immediately a pair of bare feet approached, sticking out of white yeti pants.

“Why are we bothering to bid on Jim?” Troy asked. He didn’t even try to do a yeti voice.

John’s voice was exasperated. “We just talked about this! Your memory is a shambles!”

bonus points for using them in reverse order

about stichomancy writing prompts

try our stichomancy writing prompt generator!

Oksana Switched on her Microphone

  • by jensqueezed between so many
  • lick your palm
  • big clown shoes to fill
  • more smock than frock
  • just weeks before the baby was due

Tune in next time part 487      Click Here for Earlier Installments

Oksana switched on her microphone and stepped up onto a dais to begin the auction. She gestured, and Jim was brought to her, squeezed between so many yeti-ninjas there was no chance of him escaping.

“Thank you for the warmup act, Jason,” she said. “I’ll be around later to lick your palm, as we say in Colloquillia.” Addressing the whole crowd of international spies and ne’er-do-wells, she went on, “Today’s merchandise has such big clown shoes to fill, and such tiny feet to do it with!”

Two yetis lifted Jim, and a third pulled his shoes off. As one, the crowd gasped.

I felt a knot in my stomach. Which clown was Oksana talking about? The Crystal Clown, perhaps? The auctioneeress kept up her patter, describing my brother’s many features and body parts.

Tatiana appeared at my elbow. She was usually a very stylish woman, but today’s garment was more smock than frock, a shapeless sack that hung from her shoulders, skimmed over her pregnant belly, and was barely long enough to cover her panties. It was a daring amount of leg to show just weeks before the baby was due. Or babies, as was more likely the case with me as the father. I thought back over the past several months and tried to calculate the number of children I might have on the way.

Tatiana whispered, “Let’s pool our funds. I’m sure Titania will let you have Jim when she’s done with him.” She chuckled. “Or what’s left of him.”

bonus points for using them in order

about stichomancy writing prompts

try our stichomancy writing prompt generator!

What I Didn’t Say to Oksana Was

  • by jendeal with things in the proper fashion
  • I have a good relationship with the Fahey family
  • pastel-hued ketchup packets
  • I would probably take my bra off as well
  • which necessitated three visits from the police

Tune in next time part 483      Click Here for Earlier Installments

What I didn’t say to Oksana was “well they certainly aren’t *good* ninjas” although I was sorely tempted. Instead I feigned Jason’s infamous curiosity and boyish wonder and said, “Really? Then what are they?” Being a General of the Mountain Garrisons, it behooved me to deal with things in the proper fashion, especially when those things were a potential invasion army.

“Why they’re yetis, of course,” Oksana trilled. “I have a good relationship with the Fahey family, and they’ve taught me how to train the yeti in the ways of the shadow warrior. It’s coming along quite well, as you can see for yourself.”

I myself have a good relationship with the Faheys, and they’d never mentioned ninjas in my presence. I was gaining all sorts of new insights today.

Before I could press Oksana for more information, Tatiana and John strode into the cavern. Tatiana’s abdomen was bulging with the child or children we had conceived on the crystal throne of Mingus Mint. John was wearing a ski outfit that looked like it was made from pastel-hued ketchup packets.

“I’m here representing Viscount Arlo of Svenborgia,” John announced.

“And I’m representing the Crystal Clown,” said Tatiana. “She’s even more pregnant than I am and couldn’t travel.” She winked at me. “You missed your chance, Jason. But you’re about to be an uncle several times over.”

“You’re a tough woman to brave these mountains in your condition,” said Oksana. “If I were you, I would stay at home with my shoes off and my feet up. I would probably take my bra off as well. Respect.”

Tatiana dipped her chin.

As more auction participants made their way into the chamber, I tried to keep track of them all. It reminded me of the Homecoming party during my senior year at the Academy, an event which necessitated three visits from the police, two from Interpol, and one from the International Siblinghood of Street Performers, who were there on a recruiting mission.

bonus points for using them in order

about stichomancy writing prompts

try our stichomancy writing prompt generator!

I Tried to Banish All Memories of Roxie

  • by jenflexed, wet and warm
  • “Stick knives in dead people.”
  • in real time
  • so violently that his bones clattered
  • It’s a confounded nuisance

Tune in next time part 481      Click Here for Earlier Installments

I tried to banish all memories of Roxie under my desk, muscles flexed, wet and warm mouth poised just so… but it was, literally, quite hard. Luckily the names Roxie and Oksana sound quite similar, so I just repeated my last mumbled utterance, only with one important edit.

“What was that, Oksie?”

“I didn’t say anything,” she said, eyes narrowed. She circled me, scrutinizing, comparing me to the photos of Jason on her phone.

I lisped, “Stick knives in dead people.” That was a Colloquialism I had picked up from my former lover. It meant something like “I want to jump your bones in real time.”

Oksana cocked one of her thick black eyebrows. Meanwhile, Jim startled so violently that his bones clattered. He tried to cover his reaction with another drug-induced bird call.

“I’ve heard you were bold, Jason,” Oksana said. “But I had no idea just how bold. Unfortunately for you, I’m not at all interested in stabbing corpses.” Her eyes flicked to Jim and back. “At least not with you.”

“It’s a confounded nuisance having Jim for a brother,” I said, trying to sound disappointed. “But if you like him so much, why are you selling him?”

bonus points for using them in order

about stichomancy writing prompts

try our stichomancy writing prompt generator!

“When Does This Damn Auction Start?”

  • by jenlocated at the base of your spine
  • enough face cream
  • Sorry honey!
  • a language that literally no one
  • a picture of you in the folder

Tune in next time part 479      Click Here for Earlier Installments

“When does this damn auction start?” I bellowed, striding into the cavern. “Don’t tell me I missed it!” I tried to act as cocky and entitled as the diplomats and spymasters my mother tended to hang out with. My wooden climbing boots gave me a stilted, clattering gait.

My brashness startled Oksana’s yeti minions. Their ninja training took over, and startled ninjas always freeze and attempt to camouflage themselves. I was suddenly surrounded by a forest of frozen yeti statues.

“Jason!” cried Jim in faux-surprise. “You bastard!” And then he made another bird call, this one decidedly less Himalayan.

Oksana straightened her spine and approached me. “You’re not late at all. In fact you’re early. I have to double check your identity, of course. I’m sure you understand. I have a picture of you in the folder of auction material on my phone, which I will now pull out of my cleavage.” She did so. While she compared me to the photo of my twin on her phone, she muttered to herself in Colloquillian, a language that literally no one outside of Colloquillia knew. Except for me. I had a Colloquillian lover years ago, who taught me the basics, after making me promise never to use my knowledge for espionage. That was a promise I now had to break. Sorry honey!

What Oksana was muttering wasn’t very enlightening, though. Something along the lines of “with enough face cream I guess literally anyone can stay youthful.”

I kept my mouth shut while she perused me, so that she wouldn’t see the golden tattoos on my tongue. My brother and I tended to copy each other’s distinguishing features, but as far as I knew, Jason didn’t have those. At least not yet.

“Now Jason, in order to confirm that it is you and not your twin, I need to see the crescent-shaped scar located at the base of your spine.” She smiled without showing her teeth. “I’m sure you understand.”

bonus points for using them in reverse order

about stichomancy writing prompts

try our stichomancy writing prompt generator!

Isolde was Still Struggling to Stand

  • by jeneach wore different colored goggles
  • never had a sandwich before
  • obscured by unmoving clouds
  • he was double her age
  • scattered on the carpet

Tune in next time part 461      Click Here for Earlier Installments

Isolde was still struggling to stand as I raced from the room in pursuit of the kidnapping faux-yeti. In the courtyard I skidded to a halt. Arlo was there in the snow, locked in the stocks. His yeti head had been removed, exposing his bald scalp, which was now quite pink. I looked around in alarm. If Arlo was imprisoned, then who had abducted my brother? And why?

Near the outer wall I saw a phalanx of what appeared to be yeti. There were at least a dozen of the furry white things, and each wore different colored goggles and nothing else. The one with Jim over his shoulder loped across the icy cobblestones toward his comrades. Obviously they couldn’t be real yeti, since there was no such thing. They were probably a group of insurrectionists, the sort of malcontents who never had a sandwich before without finding something to complain about.

The “yeti” near the wall hooted at each other and then formed themselves into a human pyramid (or rather a yeti-pyramid). The one carrying Jim bounded up the stack of hairy bodies and vaulted over the wall before I could reach him. The others followed and disappeared up into the mountains, the tops of which were obscured by unmoving clouds and the ongoing blizzard.

Well, shit.

It was then that I remembered I was a General, and I didn’t have to do all this running around. I ordered a squadron of yodelers to give chase and retrieve my brother.

As I made my way back to the throne room, I thought about Isolde. She was my wife’s sister, and I had always found her most beautiful. Acting as Harry’s proxy for their wedding and wedding night was a highlight of my recent past, even if it did end with her wed to Harry. He was a toad-featured Junior Baronet, and he was double her age. I had no idea what she saw in him. And I had no idea what she was doing here at Enigma Fortress while he was in legal trouble and she was so close to giving birth.

I entered the throne room and immediately had to revise my musings. Isolde was no longer close to giving birth. She sat on the floor, beaming, with babies scattered on the carpet around her.

bonus points for using them in order

about stichomancy writing prompts

try our stichomancy writing prompt generator!

Isolde Crooked Her Finger

  • by jenpractically kissing my cheek
  • name of your sex tape
  • capable of extraordinary cruelty
  • the ice-master caught the first sight
  • winning the war against time

Tune in next time part 459      Click Here for Earlier Installments

Isolde crooked her finger, beckoning me closer and closer until her eyelashes were practically kissing my cheek. She whispered, “The soothsayers soothsay it’s triplets, at least. Harry is just thrilled.”

“Is that why he’s causing scenes at cotillions?” I asked snippily. I hadn’t forgotten that Fleur expected me to act as Harry’s lawyer.

“Causing Scenes at Cotillions,” said Jim. “I do believe that’s the name of your sex tape, brother.”

Isolde trilled a high-pitched laugh. She obviously found Jim charming. My brother had that effect on women, largely because they didn’t know he was capable of extraordinary cruelty. At the Academy, the Ice-Master caught the first sight of Jim’s mean streak, and the poor man was never the same again.

I stood to my full height and straightened my General’s frock coat, vest, and cravat. “So, Jim, I am to believe that you flew through a blizzard in an airship to tell me that Freya wants to see me, when either you or she are perfectly capable of sending a telegram? And Isolde, who is barely winning the war against time in regards to delivering her children, just tagged along for fun?”

It was time to deploy that lie-suppressing trigger phrase.

bonus points for using them in order

about stichomancy writing prompts

try our stichomancy writing prompt generator!

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.

bonus points for using them in order

about stichomancy writing prompts

try our stichomancy writing prompt generator!

The Spy’s Words

  • by jentried to get to sleep again
  • separated from his wife after falling in love with a young actress
  • struggled with the question of last names
  • musky cologne with a hint of whisky
  • the poop problem

Tune in next time part 391      Click Here for Earlier Installments

The spy’s words reminded me that Fleur and Jim had been alone together for quite some time, one floor above my head. My curiosity was roused, and no matter how much I wished it had tried to get to sleep again, it stayed awake. Jim was a source of never-ending drama in our family. The first time he married, he separated from his wife after falling in love with a young actress on his honeymoon. The second time, he and his young actress wife struggled with the question of last names and who should take whose, and their marriage ended after only a month. Now he was married to Esmerelda, but, as always, had a roving eye. And the last time I’d seen Esmerelda she was having sex with my father. Did Jim know about that?

I menaced the spy for a few more minutes so that he wouldn’t know his remark got to me, then I signaled to the warrior-monks holding my children to follow me up the stairs.

I was half-expecting to walk in on Fluer and Jim banging it out, but that isn’t what I saw at all. When I entered the room where I’d left them, there was no sign of Jim. Fleur sat at the table, wearing Jim’s blue panda suit and a dreamy smile. The panda head sat beside her half-mug of coffee.

“Where’s Jim?” I asked.

“He’s on a mission,” Fluer said with a happy sigh. “Did you know that this mascot suit smells just like him? Musky cologne with a hint of whisky.”

“Why are you wearing the panda suit, Fleur?”

“Jim had to borrow my clothes for his mission. He couldn’t very well wear the panda suit. You know, because of the poop problem.” She patted herself down with her big panda paws. “There’s no trapdoor in this thing, and Jim needs to be able to move fast.”

bonus points for using them in order

about stichomancy writing prompts

try our stichomancy writing prompt generator!