Tagged: tune in next time

My Proposal Swiftly Became Law

  • by Kentvelvet patchwork coat
  • almost glowing with serenity
  • “Seems kind of hinky to me.”
  • love when a sound repeats
  • diplomats of any rank

Tune in next time part 824      Click Here for Earlier Installments

My proposal swiftly became law in this tiny kingdom, and it wasn’t long before I regretted it. The contestants would be getting their driver’s licenses by the time everyone had their chance to perform.

Time became soft and blurry with abrupt unexpected seams, much like the velvet patchwork coat worn by the baby who did the interpretive dance to Pagliacci. I dozed during the next one, a kind of modernist Morris dance by a cherub who was almost glowing with serenity. I thought I covered well, rousing myself to applaud politely, but the babe’s mother shot me a look that said, “Seems kind of hinky to me.”

It happened that there was a bit of an echo in the auditorium, which led to an awkward state of affairs. Something everyone knows about babies is how much they love when a sound repeats. An audience member sneezed, which echoed, which made several of the infants laugh, and their laughter echoed, which made more of them laugh, and so on. The chamber filled with a cacophony of mirth that could not be quelled by any number of consternated mommies or by diplomats of any rank, which only further delayed the conclusion of the entire business.

bonus points for using them in order

about stichomancy writing prompts

try our stichomancy writing prompt generator!

The Infants Tired Themselves Out Laughing

  • by jenthoughtfully curated selection
  • attempting to reenter the United States
  • celebrities promoting the toad medicine
  • referred to it as “defensive cooking”
  • provides the optimal angle for all kinds of

Tune in next time part 825      Click Here for Earlier Installments

The infants tired themselves out laughing, so Talent Show Part 2 had a lengthy intermission for nap time. I perused the thoughtfully curated selection of international candy bars at the refreshment stand, some of which I hadn’t tasted since my chocolate smuggling friend got picked up attempting to reenter the United States after being deported. It wasn’t even his blackmarket sweets that got him in trouble, but rather a snake oil scheme he’d promoted years earlier. Instead of snakes he got his juice from toads, and he even had celebrities promoting the toad medicine, which is what drew all the attention. The health department raided the lab where he did what they referred to as “mad science,” while he referred to it as “defensive cooking” because he was often high on his own supply. His slogan was “Toad Butter provides the optimal angle for all kinds of fun!”, which was a terrible slogan, in my opinion.

I excitedly chose a half-dozen candy bars from countries I’d never even heard of and unwrapped the first one with a smile on my face.

bonus points for using them in order

about stichomancy writing prompts

try our stichomancy writing prompt generator!

Only A Few People

  • by KentThey are afraid of me.
  • unusual, suggestive colors
  • baby, I’m your man
  • conceived by the devil himself
  • wearing a pair of “shoes” so befuddling

Tune in next time part 826      Click Here for Earlier Installments

Only a few people have ever tried to get between me and a candy bar, and none of them will make that mistake again. They are afraid of me. They should be.

Inside the first wrapper was a slab of chocolate that swirled with unusual, suggestive colors and released unusual, suggestive aromas. It was a candy bar that said, “hey hey baby, I’m your man.” I wrapped it back up and ate the other, boring ones instead. This was a candy bar to hold onto until I could take my time with it.

The naptime intermission came to a close as one of the mommies strode out to introduce the next act. “All you need to know about this contestant is that she was conceived by the devil himself.” That stung a little.

While I was still trying to remember the woman’s name, the baby took the stage wearing a pair of “shoes” so befuddling that I wondered if they might be her whole act.

bonus points for using them in order

about stichomancy writing prompts

try our stichomancy writing prompt generator!

Outlandish Though They Were

  • by jenfor four hot, grueling days
  • as a last resort he sat on her
  • the same ratty t-shirt he’s worn all week
  • “Sing it with me!”
  • with the pretentious subtitle

Tune in next time part 827      Click Here for Earlier Installments

Outlandish though they were, the little girl’s shoes were not the whole act. The mother wheeled a miniature synthesizer in front of the child, and she began to play. Her song stretched on and on, for four hot, grueling days, or so it seemed. The other babies grew restless, most especially my son with Fleur. He toddled onto the stage and tried to pull the keyboard away. When that failed he attempted to wrest his half-sister’s chubby hands from the keys. And as a last resort he sat on her. The crowd applauded weakly.

Fleur strode onto the stage and bowed, then waved vaguely at our son. “Please overlook that the Duke is still wearing the same ratty t-shirt he’s worn all week. Regis St Oink Oink is his favorite show, and he refuses to wear anything but his beloved Regis shirt.” The other mothers all nodded knowingly.

My son the Duke stood up and said, “Sing!”

Fleur smiled dotingly. “The Duke would like us all to sing the Regis St Oink Oink theme song.” She pulled a pitch pipe from her pocket and blew a note. “Sing it with me!” she shouted at the audience.

And to my amazement, the entire crowd burst into song, singing the ridiculous ode to the Transylvania Homicide Detective with the pretentious subtitle. It went a little something like this.

bonus points for using them in order

about stichomancy writing prompts

try our stichomancy writing prompt generator!

It Was Borderline Seditious

  • by Kentwatched my brothers fly kites
  • houseboat puttering toward international waters
  • risking frostbite
  • you know that’s not allowed
  • odor resistant

Tune in next time part 828      Click Here for Earlier Installments

It was borderline seditious for a Contrarian Warlord’s daughter to lead a sing-along of a Harmonious song, so Fleur must have felt quite sure of the loyalties of all aboard her airship. Direct translation of the lyrics would be borderline impossible, let alone one retaining the rhyme scheme and meter, but in the case of the theme song from a cartoon an approximation should suffice.

(singing:)

As a piglet, I watched my brothers fly kites in the salty breezes
from the deck of a houseboat puttering toward international waters.
My brothers’ kites flew over the icebergs, my snout risking frostbite so I could watch.
Mother scolded me, “You’re spying, and you know that’s not allowed.”
But I loved to spy, and it is allowed if you become a detective.
I never had a kite to fly, only jars of molasses which are my means of solving crimes.
I miss my brothers on their houseboat, but now I live somewhere more odor resistant.

bonus points for using them in order

about stichomancy writing prompts

try our stichomancy writing prompt generator!

As the Last Notes of the Regis St Oink Oink Theme Song Died Away

  • by jenthe “wheezing and clapping” kind
  • you buoyant balloon of happiness
  • lashing us to our seats for well over two hours
  • lively, voluptuous brunette
  • casinos in the middle of the Andes

Tune in next time part 829      Click Here for Earlier Installments

As the last notes of the Regis St Oink Oink theme song died away, Fleur bowed. The audience, knowing what was expected in the presence of the Warlord’s daughter, cheered and applauded. We were all so exhausted by now that it was more the “wheezing and clapping” kind of ovation than the “shouting and fist pumping” kind, but Fleur didn’t seem to care. With a smile on her face she adjusted the microphone stand as low as it would go and then said to our son the Duke, “It’s your turn, you buoyant balloon of happiness. Make Mommy proud.”

I was regretting my decision to give each child the spotlight, and I wasn’t the only one. While my son caterwauled into the microphone, Jim leaned over and whispered, “This is worse than Father lashing us to our seats for well over two hours that time so we wouldn’t interfere with his date with the lively, voluptuous brunette. Remember?”

I nodded sadly. Of course I remembered. Mother had been away, gambling at her favorite casinos in the middle of the Andes, and she’d left Father in charge. I wanted my children to have better childhoods than I and my siblings had. Would that be more likely to happen if I were an active parent, or if I stayed the hell away?

bonus points for using them in order

about stichomancy writing prompts

try our stichomancy writing prompt generator!

I Knew it Was Lazy and Cowardly

  • by Kentthe aforementioned vile little fish
  • technically speaking, you could share a hot dog
  • souvenir DVD for no extra charge
  • Sushi on a Shingle
  • constant flatulence

Tune in next time part 830      Click Here for Earlier Installments

I knew it was lazy and cowardly of me to say that my children were better off not knowing me, but that didn’t make it incorrect. Television shows are filled with sappy scenarios where the offspring love their decrepit father despite his constant flatulence, and respect him even though his “job” is serving up expired anchovies on stale saltines at a gas station where it’s listed as Sushi on a Shingle. And too often it’s the kind of show that does cheesy stuff to break the fourth wall, like giving the gas station’s customers a souvenir DVD for no extra charge — a DVD of its own previous season. And while, technically speaking, you could share a hot dog with such a dad on his lunch break, you wouldn’t because his fingers would perpetually stink of the aforementioned vile little fish.

Jim was nudging me in the ribs, calling me back from my introspection. I blinked at the stage, realizing I did not recognize the talent show’s next contestant.

bonus points for using them in reverse order

about stichomancy writing prompts

try our stichomancy writing prompt generator!

 

“Hey!” I Cried. “You’re Not a Baby!”

  • by jen“Ta-ta, love!”
  • zillionaire bedlam
  • especially if you keep it in its wrapper
  • Of all the underwear I’ve worn in my adult life,
  • bro-ier and more duplicitous

Tune in next time part 831      Click Here for Earlier Installments

“Hey!” I cried. “You’re not a baby! Get off the stage!”

“Ta-ta, love!” Tessa shouted at him, and that opened the floodgates. Tensions were high. Every mother there wanted their child to win the talent show, and every last one of us was on edge from sitting patiently through so many “adorable” acts. I’m not saying that everyone in the theater was filthy rich, but the place erupted into zillionaire bedlam. Women yelled, babies howled and filled their diapers with angry poops, someone threw a banana, which is very dangerous, especially if you keep it in its wrapper, because when the banana inevitably splits open, you’ve got twice as many slipping hazards.

Jim leaned close and whispered, “I bet you don’t recognize Bruce Pamplemousse in that crazy get-up, do you?”

Of all the underwear I’ve worn in my adult life, none were less sweat-absorbing than the ones that came as part of my scientist costume. At the news that Bruce Pamplemousse, the even bro-ier and more duplicitous brother of evil disco king Deuce Pamplemousse, was in the same room as my many children, I started to sweat profusely and my briefs did not perform well.

I had no idea what to do next.

bonus points for using them in order

about stichomancy writing prompts

try our stichomancy writing prompt generator!

Having My Numerous Offspring

  • by KentTalk about awkward…
  • long blond hair unbound and disastrously tangled
  • soda was the dominant aroma
  • — after the fly incident
  • a muffin pan is ideal

Tune in next time part 832      Click Here for Earlier Installments

Having my numerous offspring in the same room with Bruce Pamplemousse was unacceptable, that much I knew. The chaos in the auditorium was making it difficult to think, to come up with a plan of action to correct the problem. It would also make it all but impossible to wrangle all the children.

A flash of inspiration struck. Unlike my children, Bruce Pamplemousse was not numerous. So all I had to do was get him out of the room. Despite his reputation, he might have cooperated with a polite request. Only I’d shouted at him and spoiled his tacky performance. Talk about awkward…

Bruce tugged off the bald pate that was part of his baby costume, leaving his long blond hair unbound and disastrously tangled. Drops of sweat flew from the rubbery headpiece, and I was pleasantly surprised to discover that orange soda was the dominant aroma thus released. He also shed the diaper, revealing the skimpiest cutoffs I had ever seen. It amazed me that Bruce would wear them — after the fly incident of a few years ago that trapped him for two days in a pair of jeans with a frozen zipper.

He was zeroing in on me as he advanced to the lip of the stage. I wished I had some implement with which I could deflect punches and accomplish nonlethal subdual (a muffin pan is ideal for close-quarters combat, FYI). But my sweat-soaked scientist costume did not include anything suitable.

bonus points for using them in order

about stichomancy writing prompts

try our stichomancy writing prompt generator!

“Hey Bruce!”

  • by jenhis gooey chocolate center
  • giant ostrich egg
  • joke with us, his accent bizarre
  • trying to convince people of your awesomeness
  • probably not normal

Tune in next time part 833      Click Here for Earlier Installments

“Hey Bruce!” my brother Jim yelled. “It’s probably not normal for you as a grown-ass man to be entering baby talent shows as a way of trying to convince people of your awesomeness. But it’s working!”

Bruce looked confused. I knew just how he felt. Growing up, my siblings and I never got used to Jim’s attempts to joke with us, his accent bizarre and obviously fake, the giant ostrich egg he named Egward and carried around in a bowling bag, his promises (threats?) to show us his gooey chocolate center. No one ever knew how seriously to take Jim, and that might work in my favor now. If he could keep Bruce Pamplemousse distracted, I might be able to get my children to safety.

“Let me and my brother join you on stage!” Jim added in an accent more mysterious than I had ever heard.

bonus points for using them in reverse order

about stichomancy writing prompts

try our stichomancy writing prompt generator!