Tagged: prosthetic butt

My Next Move

  • by Kentthe Universe of the Upside-Down Toilet
  • “Stop playing games with me, David.”
  • stand back and let me check
  • with the slavish tenacity of a lapdog
  • won’t be built with nuts and bolts

Tune in next time part 230                           Click Here for Earlier Installments

My next move depended on knowing where Cleopatra really stood regarding my father. I tried another coded message.

“I think my father knows that time is money, even in the Universe of the Upside-Down Toilet, and that’s how those workers set their rates.”

“Stop playing games with me, David.” Esmerelda’s use of the proper countersign startled me. I’d thought I knew her allegiances, but this threw everything out the window. Now I was baffled about both sisters’ true intentions.

“I thought your name was–”

“He knows what I mean,” Esmerelda snapped.

I mulled for a few seconds. Then, “I’ll go talk to him, but I need Cleopatra to come with me.” If they both agreed to that, I’d know enough about their loyalties.

“Is my butt on straight?”

“Good question — stand back and let me check. Yes, you look great.”

“You could just take it off,” Esmerelda growled. “He’ll panic if he discovers a Svenborgian affectation like that.” To me, she said, “I know what you’re up to.”

“Good, can you tell me?”

“Don’t be cute. You’re far too old for cuteness. The coup will happen, though its opponents will act with the slavish tenacity of a lapdog. They will be unable to stop the machine. It’s a machine that won’t be built with nuts and bolts. It will be made of pride and sweat and spider silk. Do you hear me? Do you understand what I am telling you?”

“Sheesh, Ezz,” Cleopatra said. “You take all the fun out of revolution, you know that?”

bonus points for using them in order

about stichomancy writing prompts

try our stichomancy writing prompt generator!

Geography was Never My Strong Suit

  • by jendidn’t want to say more over the phone
  • the deadly secrets she’d been hiding for three years
  • “What the heck is this?”
  • many generations of fine breeding
  • a very unrealistic assessment of what sex workers charge

Tune in next time part 229                           Click Here for Earlier Installments

Geography was never my strong suit, but even I knew there was a limited number of countries one could reach from Harmonia by water, and our current location resembled none of them. And then it hit me: hovercrafts can travel over land as well as sea. We could be nearly anywhere. And Cleopatra worked so hard to keep me distracted belowdecks, as it were. My distrust of her flared anew.

A zeppelin floated by overhead.

Cleopatra led me into a twisting alley. Where it dead-ended, there was a rusty steel door where she unleashed a flurry of knocks in a complicated rhythm. The door swung inward after a moment and I was compelled to enter the dim room.

From the shadows, a tall woman said, “You should have told us you were bringing him along.” Her voice was familiar.

“Time was short and there were enemies everywhere,” Cleopatra said. “I didn’t want to say more over the phone than the bare basics.”

Shadow-voice stepped out of the shadows and stood behind me, hands on my shoulders. She leaned forward and spoke quietly into my ear. “Did she tell you of the deadly secrets she’d been hiding for three years?” Her odd accent and stilted phrasing identified her as Esmerelda, my brother Jim’s wife. If she was here, did that mean my father was, too?

Esmerelda moved from behind me and embraced Cleopatra, giving her bottom a squeeze. “What the heck is this?” she demanded. “I’m disappointed in you, sister. We are the end result of many generations of fine breeding, and yet you cover up your genetically perfect ass with this relic of old Svenborgia?”

They were sisters? That was news to me. Cold dread clutched my gut.

“I am a traditionalist,” Cleopatra replied.

Esmerelda stood beside her sister and regarded me icily. “Your father has a very unrealistic assessment of what sex workers charge. He’s draining the treasury of his new empire, and he’s not even been publicly acknowledged as leader. We need you to talk to him.”

She was standing side-by-side with her sister, but they were on opposite sides of the conflict over my father. Or were they? Had Cleopatra been playing me all along in order to get me here?

Wherever here was.

bonus points for using them in order

about stichomancy writing prompts

try our stichomancy writing prompt generator!

I Stood in the Prow

  • by jenAnswer: Not much.
  • blocked nearly all the sunlight
  • desperately tired of seeing naked shoes
  • Welcome to… Aberdeen
  • ice skating on the frog pond

Tune in next time part 227                           Click Here for Earlier Installments

I stood in the prow of the locust until it slowly became a hovercraft and I realized that I had been hallucinating. I asked Cleopatra how much sense I had been making. Answer: Not much.

We were in the middle of the ocean, zipping along in a cloud of spray that blocked nearly all the sunlight. There wasn’t much to look at, but that was actually a relief because I was desperately tired of seeing naked shoes on people’s hands and overdressed fish circling their heads.

Cleopatra coaxed me away from the railing and we went to the cafeteria. She bought me a huge plate of non-psychoactive haggis and said, “Welcome to… Aberdeen.” Then she made me eat the whole thing and wash it down with a glass of peaty scotch. She meanwhile enjoyed a BLT and a coke.

After our meal we still had many hours to kill before our hovercraft would deliver us to our destination. Cleopatra had reserved a cabin for us, so we went there and I showed her a sex position that came to me during my mushroom trip, something that I could only describe as “ice skating on the frog pond.” Her prosthetic butt will never be the same.

I still didn’t fully trust her, but I needed her to think I did.

In the afterglow I said, “So where is this hovercraft taking us?”

bonus points for using them in order

about stichomancy writing prompts

try our stichomancy writing prompt generator!

Cleopatra’s Eyes Darted

  • by jenJoe, I know it’s not shit
  • dutifully packing the egg cartons
  • want to play Road Warrior
  • propel a converted atomic submarine into space
  • now dating his ex-girlfriend

Tune in next time part 225                           Click Here for Earlier Installments

Cleopatra’s eyes darted around the street, searching the shadows for spies. “I can’t talk about that right now. I left my prosthetic butt at home,” she whispered.

I sighed at all the Svenborgian nonsense.

She gripped my hand in a way that would look tender to any casual observers, and led me into a small grocery store. In the back room, a handful of Tibetans were busy sorting mushrooms into piles.

The youngest looked at me and said, “What are these damn ‘shrooms called again, Joe, I know it’s not shittake.”

Why did he think my name was Joe? “Maitake,” I said.

“That’s it!” he said, snapping his fingers, then went back to dutifully packing the egg cartons in front of him with the frilly fungus.

Cleopatra pulled me into the corner. “Joe?” she demanded. “I thought your name was–”

“I want to play Road Warrior,” I interrupted. “I want to drive a car that’s got a booster big enough to propel a converted atomic submarine into space.”

I watched as Cleopatra decoded that. Her face looked like she just found out her father was now dating his ex-girlfriend‘s sister, daughter, and niece all at the same time. Or at least that was the look I had when my father did that.

“If what you say is true,” she finally said, “we need to get the hell out of Harmonia immediately.”

I agreed.

“Grab a handful of those mushrooms to tide you over. We’ll have to stop at my apartment to get my butt and my passport, then we’ll go straight to the hovercraft depot.”

bonus points for using them in order

about stichomancy writing prompts

try our stichomancy writing prompt generator!

I Would Have Enjoyed

  • by Kentenjoyed a few hours’ sleep
  • emerging from the kennel
  • using massive metal golems
  • your footprints may not complicate matters
  • flinging discretion to the chilly wind

Tune in next time part 224                           Click Here for Earlier Installments

I would have enjoyed a few hours’ sleep, but there were too many things demanding action and attention. For example, I needed to figure out who Cleopatra really was.

I followed her out into the hall, mainly just to keep her where I could see her. She went into the bathroom and released Gordon, and the goose emerging from the kennel was not a happy one. He flapped angrily, his large wings churning the air and smacking the walls in the small room. Cleopatra yelped and jumped back, slamming the door to contain Gordon’s tantrum.

“I hope you have another bathroom,” I said.

“No,” she sighed. Gordon started honking. It was alarmingly loud. “He’ll calm down eventually. His voice can’t see my bones.”

The weird turn of phrase made the hair on my arms stand up. It was an old Svenborgian proverb! I suddenly understood the significance of the words inside her fake butt, which must have been manufactured there. And that would explain how she knew who the Viscount was, and knew he was a dick.

I had a terrifying thought. Cleopatra might be a Golem Rider. Regular Svenborgians were dangerous, but the members of that apocalyptic cult were especially so. They believed they would one day overthrow the current world order using massive metal golems that lived in their many extinct volcanoes. They even had a sitcom starring those gleaming giants. One of them had the catchphrase, “your footprints may not complicate matters,” which he always said after one of the others had stepped on a bunch of people on the sidewalk.

We had left her apartment building and were hiking up the boulevard. A storm was closing in, and perhaps its ominous backdrop inspired my next move. Flinging discretion to the chilly wind, I asked her, “What’s the Svenborgian-Tibetan connection?”

bonus points for using them in order

about stichomancy writing prompts

try our stichomancy writing prompt generator!

The Place To Stow Gordon

  • by Kent— which, by the way, is their normal state —
  • set of handcuff keys
  • she had on those damn falsies
  • “Just pretty much the basics.”
  • sound waves, not X-rays

Tune in next time part 222                           Click Here for Earlier Installments

The place to stow Gordon turned out to be Isaac’s apartment in the building across the street. She had a rabbit hutch in the bathroom, which became a goose hutch.

Isaac took my hand and led me into the next room. “Now I need you to see if my cheeks are rosy — which, by the way, is their normal state — or if there’s any bruising or other damage.” From her cleavage she pulled a set of handcuff keys on a silver chain. She took off the chain and handed me the keys, then turned around and bent over.

I discovered a keyhole in her belt, and, hoping I was reading this situation correctly, inserted the key. Her pants fell off, revealing a foam-rubber prosthetic posterior. How would she have even felt Gordon’s nip on her rump, if she had on those damn falsies?

“So far, so good,” I said. “Although, not exactly what I expected. What’s this for?”

“Just pretty much the basics.”

That was evidently thought to be a valid response.

“Well, everything I see here is intact. Not rosy, as such.”

“You’re not done with your examination, doctor.”

Her weird foundation garment also needed the handcuff key to unhook it. At which point I could assure her that the goose hadn’t goosed her too hard. Everything looked fine. In fact, I was at a loss to understand why she wore a fake butt over such a nice real one.

One phrase was printed on the inside of the prosthesis, which I was still trying to decode when Isaac offered to examine my cheeks, just to be safe. She fluttered her eyes at me. “After all, you were in the room with that goose too.”

For the next two hours, I didn’t get many chances to concentrate. But I made sure to memorize the words I’d seen inside her artificial derriere.

“sound waves, not X-rays.”

bonus points for using them in order

about stichomancy writing prompts

try our stichomancy writing prompt generator!