Tagged: food

Fiery Ball Of Gas

During October we will be sharing passages that we’ve written independently from the same prompt.

  • fiery ball of gas
  • devotional delicacy
  • Skinner box
  • emotional maturity
  • serving up

Jen’s Take

by jen“The eucharist is so bland,” whined Reggie. “Can’t the nuns whip up a devotional delicacy with more zip? Maybe they could add wasabi.”

“That would be like serving up a fiery ball of gas!” shrieked Jen.

The two collapsed in giggles, displaying the emotional maturity of grade-schoolers, and clutching their nearly empty margaritas.

The other patrons of The Skinner Box, the newest bar in town, had already learned to avoid the two co-authors whenever they appeared for Happy Hour.

 

Kent’s Take

Johnson liked to watch Skinner box. Serving up whoop-ass like a devotional delicacy, take of this left hook, for it is about to rattle your brainstem…

This secret pleasure didn’t show much emotional maturity, but that was the reason for keeping it secret. Outwardly, Johnson gave every sign of detesting the brutal spectacle. But it flooded her with arousal like a fiery ball of gas. Unless that was the pork rinds…

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What do you think? Who handled this prompt better?

I’m Getting Overeducated

  • by jenby the time I reached my adolescence
  • this filthy little segmented thing
  • he could make us all suffer
  • recommended the Eggs Benedict
  • his ears are adorable
  • I’m getting overeducated
  • kissed Sharon lightly on the cheek

I’m getting overeducated in regards to sex. By the time I reached my adolescence I’d seen it all, thanks to my older sister Sharon.

Our mother split when we were little, and our father was always out drinking, so it fell to Sharon to raise me and teach me the ways of the world.

Her boyfriend’s name was Hans, and he could make us all suffer with his attempts to speak English. Sharon didn’t care. “His ears are adorable!” she would say.

One night Hans arrived at our apartment and kissed Sharon lightly on the cheek. Mere moments later she was on her knees before him and he was pulling this filthy little segmented thing out of his trousers. I didn’t want to see any more.

I cleared my throat to remind them I was there. Hans told me to go to the diner and get something to eat. He recommended the Eggs Benedict.

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Richard Took Off His T-Shirt

  • by jenlike you’ve poured ink on your head
  • his eyes were pure chocolate
  • tried to cut his own hands off?
  • in the car with the baby wipes
  • Richard took off his t-shirt
  • flashed a self-deprecating smile

Richard took off his t-shirt and flashed a self-deprecating smile as he flexed his impressive pecs in time to the pulsating dance music. His hair was the distinctive blue-black that looks like you’ve poured ink on your head in an attempt to look like Elvis. His eyes were pure chocolate chip cookies of lust. Sally decided right then and there that she wanted to screw him, out in the parking lot in the car with the baby wipes and juice boxes, and all the other symbols of her suburbanized domesticity. Sally knew it was sinful to do what she was thinking of doing with Richard while her husband Cliff was in the hospital, but she wasn’t sure she wanted to be married to Cliff anymore. Who would want to be married to a man who, when asked to help with the dishes, tried to cut his own hands off?

Sally smiled and took Richard’s intact hand, leading him out of the club.

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Oedipus Giggled

  • sometimes I get overzealous
  • bouncing a diapered kangaroo on my knee
  • the bird in the paper bag
  • Oedipus giggled all the way home
  • make an asparagus omelet
  • sleep-taught toilet training
  • me and my herniated module

Oedipus giggled all the way home from his therapy session, smitten by the idea that all of his troubles were the result of sleep-taught toilet training.

The bird in the paper bag said, “Sometimes I get overzealous,” and it was true. The bag had nearly filled up with eggs by the time Oedipus reached his house. He planned to make an asparagus omelet, but thought it prudent not to inform the bird.

When he opened the door, his jaw and the bag of eggs both hit the floor. There I sat, bouncing a diapered kangaroo on my knee.

“Should you be doing that?” Oedipus asked.

He always worries about me and my herniated module.

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Oh Hell

  • a paper cup of hot chocolate
  • sat neatly on the back of her neck
  • Allan Goth, the unshutupable
  • Nothing exotic.
  • She’s a trained beautician
  • “Well, Dr Greenlea,”
  • we’re going to nail Aaron’s ex-wife
  • The red-haired boy was on his left
  • Oh hell
  • I disagree with this brash fool

Oh hell. Here comes Allan Goth, the unshutupable. He’ll have some screwball order, as usual. “What’ll it be today, Al?”

“Nothing exotic. A paper cup of hot chocolate, with an olive.”

“Comin’ right up.” Weirdo.

“And later,” here he goes, he’ll talk all night, “we’re going to nail Aaron’s ex-wife. She’s a trained beautician if I’m a kangaroo. Which I’m not. Jeff should have listened to me and had his nails done at Mario’s, the red-haired boy was on his left and they were really hitting it off. I said he should stay, but he announced ‘I disagree with this brash fool‘ like he has any real sense of his own, I mean Aaron told him never to go near his ex but what do you think he did next?”

“Well, Dr Greenlea, my mom’s gynecologist, would say –”

“Screw that quack. He wasn’t even there. So Jeff lost a finger, long story short, and Aaron’s ex just saddled her mare and left. But I don’t know where she got such an odd saddle. And the horse must be a masochist if she likes it. The saddle she used sat neatly on the back of her neck.”

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We Never Did Manage

  • I can bring a wild duck
  • kissed me on the lips
  • Monique had been faithless
  • distrust turned to horror
  • and brandy if the gentlemen wish
  • He wriggled and wailed

We never did manage to make our picnic plans. Hector had just announced, “I can bring a wild duck, and brandy if the gentlemen wish,” when Silas’s indiscretions boomeranged in front of everyone.

Silas opened the conference room door and sidled in. At first I was happy at his unexpected arrival, but then Monique broke down in sobs and fled the room. Confused, I looked to Silas for an explanation and read the misery in his eyes.

“Valerie,” he began, tears choking off the rest of his worlds. He wriggled and wailed and kissed me on the lips, although I didn’t kiss him back. I could not trust him, his erratic behavior. Distrust turned to horror as I realized Monique had been faithless as a friend, faithless to her own husband, and Silas was a sorry fool to whom I had given half my life.

So the picnic plans kind of never got worked out.

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Leonard is a Strange Person

  • by jenthe kitchen will have been aired out
  • I’ve been up for x-rays
  • making it a family affair
  • had seen that ghostly face!
  • until it was eleven
  • Leonard is a strange person

Leonard is a strange person. How I wish I never had seen that ghostly face! But see it I did on that fateful February day, along with my wife, my sister-in-law, and my six nephews, making it a family affair.

I’ve been up for for x-rays numerous times since in a futile attempt to discern what Leonard did to us, but so far the doctors have been unable to offer a diagnosis.

Whatever Leonard, that strange person, did it caused us all to become confused about our favorite television programs, and is most confounding.

My poor wife will open the kitchen window for a moment to clear the smell of frying sausages, but will become distracted pondering whether she prefers David Letterman or Conan O’Brien, and by the time she figures it out the kitchen will have been aired out until it was eleven degrees!

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Cecelia Opened the Door

  • by jensomething else inside that boy’s head
  • the Upright Man’s precious cargo
  • the reality of Paul’s shoes
  • the fir tree smelled
  • felt indecently robust
  • I thought you were in Africa
  • a large number of plastic crates

Cecelia opened the door and saw Paul standing on her front porch amid a large number of plastic crates.

“I thought you were in Africa!” she cried and gave him a hug.

“I was.” He gestured to the crates. “The Upright Man’s precious cargo proved easy to retrieve.”

Cecelia invited her brother inside and waited for him to remove his shoes. The reality of Paul’s shoes is that they were of a highly complicated design and it took a long time for him to unfasten them. She gave up waiting and went to make them some coffee. By the time Paul joined her in the kitchen, the coffee felt indecently robust on the tongue.

They carried their mugs into the living room and sat by the Christmas tree, watching the lights blink on and off. The fir tree smelled like freshly baked chocolate chip cookies. It was one of the new genetic hybrids. But Paul didn’t even seem to notice.

There must be something else inside that boy’s head besides the holidays, Cecelia thought. I wonder where the Upright Man is.

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Her Eyes Closed, Her Mouth Shut

  • like two chicken pies warming at noon
  • all five of them
  • We just got to see Chicago, by god!
  • amidst his squirrel friends with a bag of nuts
  • gaze pensively off into the mists
  • her eyes closed, her mouth shut

Her eyes closed, her mouth shut. Or maybe it was the other way around. She left her boyfriend to gaze pensively off into the mists amidst his squirrel friends with a bag of nuts dangling from his hand, forgotten.

Like two chicken pies warming at noon with no one around to eat them, so did their hearts beat side-by-side but not together.

This boyfriend was like all the rest — all five of them were listless mist-gazers, pensive and befriended by arboreal rodents.

“This road trip is over,” she declared.

“But why?” the boyfriend whined. “We just got to see Chicago, by god!”

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Desdemona Smiled

  • by jenbut they still had logs enough
  • this was a popular shrine
  • the doorway of the weaving shed
  • platters of root vegetables
  • He is brisk in bed.
  • the stick he was using

Desdemona smiled and gestured to her crotch. “This was a popular shrine when I was younger. Now the fickle young men prefer others. But they still had logs enough for my purposes in the house of the elders, I found.

“Take Igor for instance,” Desdemona said of her most recent suitor. “He is brisk in bed. The stick he was using, if you’ll pardon the expression, gave more pleasure than all the platters of root vegetables stacked in the doorway of the weaving shed for winter ever could. If you know what I mean.”

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