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 Ficlet Challenges for November
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| M1795537OCVirn |
Posted on 07-11-2024 11:25
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 Admin  Posts: 8893 Joined: 14.01.22 |
Important announcement: Sadly, after ten years, PurpleCleric has decided to hang up her graphite writing stick and thanks everyone for their contributions. You have been an inspiration, PurpleCleric, and have given us so much fun. For this month's ficlet include the words, I'm not an informer, I swear it. The word prompt for this month is FIREWORKS Happy Writing! "You're not sulking, I hope?"
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| Cygnus Bazza |
Posted on 07-11-2024 14:11
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 Alpha Grade  Posts: 2371 Joined: 14.06.22 |
ROMAN GANDLE Date: 20th May 1604. Location: The Duck & Drake Inn, just off London’s Strand. In a dingy private room, illuminated fitfully by the embers of a dying fire, Robert Catesby, Thomas Wintour, John Wright, Thomas Percy and Guy Fawkes have been joined by two hooded men. And a box. Wintour: Ah, come in, come in, my estimable fellows! And prithee secure the door posthaste, lest an inkling of our incipient sedition daintily emanate on the silent ether and confound our confidences. First hooded man: Do what? Second hooded man: He said shut the bloody door, Gan! First hooded man: All right, Avon. No need to get shirty. But first, where shall I dump Orac? Second hooded man: Shove it on the table here. Beside this shifty-looking character. Mr Fawkes, I believe? You seem deep in thought. A penny for them. Guy Fawkes: A penny for what? Second hooded man: You’ll find out… But first things first! Gentlemen! It is my understanding that this fledgling conspiracy of yours intends to assassinate King James the First of England – King James the Sixth of Scotland… First hooded man (whispering): Blimey, Avon. Didn’t realise we’d be doing away with TWO kings. You never said anything about THAT! I’m getting in deeper than I realised… Second hooded man: Gan, remember what I said. Nice closed lips. So, gentlemen! As I say, it is my understanding that you’re plotting a despicable royal assassination, to be enacted on the fifth of November next year. Catesby: That is correct. That is our grim duty to God, to whom alone we are all ultimately answerable. Second hooded man: Bad move! And I mean SERIOUSLY bad move. Catesby: Why, pray? Second hooded man: Always loads of police about on the fifth of November… And lots of people waving sparklers. Couldn’t you chose a slightly quieter day? Another day in November, perhaps. Or maybe December. Or even September. Doesn’t matter. Just as long as the month rhymes with ‘Remember, remember’. Guy Fawkes: Oh. Why’s that then? Second hooded man: You’ll find out… In fact, as agreed, with the help of this extraordinary contraption here – and in return for thirty-six barrels of gunpowder, to aid my fight for freedom, emancipation and eye-watering personal wealth – I will fine-tune the details of your conspiracy for you. Orac! Box: Yes, Avon? Second hooded man: Tell me, what would be the optimal day on which to assassinate a reigning monarch? Box: Let me see. Clearly not November the fifth. Too many police about. Second hooded man: I’ve already told them that. Box: I’ll just check my data banks. Yes. Yes. How does September the twenty-seventh sound? Second hooded man: Mmm… “Remember, remember the twenty-seventh of September…” Maybe a little clunky, scansion-wise. But it might do. What do you think, Gan? First hooded man: Sounds good to me, Avon. Sorry, what was the date again? I’ve forgotten it already… Second hooded man: Forget it. First hooded man: I’ve already done that. Second hooded man. I mean just leave it. It’ll be great. Any day in autumn will be fine. Loads of old branches, twigs and leaves. Add a few old pallets and packing cases and it’ll make for a cracking, crackling big bonfire! Guy Fawkes: A BIG BONFIRE? First hooded man, second hooded man and box: YOU'LL FIND OUT… Never close yourself to more, learn we can - that's for sure
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| Cygnus Bazza |
Posted on 09-11-2024 12:15
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Alpha Grade Posts: 2371 Joined: 14.06.22 |
THE INFORMAL INFORMER “Well, no. I'm not an informer, I swear it. Not as such. Not formally, anyway.” “So – what – you’re more of a… More of a…....what?” “Well, more of an INformal informer, I suppose. On this occasion.” “Really? An informal informer…” “Categorically. Honestly. I’m really not keen on the formalities involved in informing. All the form-filling. That sort of stuff. I just like to provide informative information on a purely informal basis.” “OK. Let’s get this straight, Vila. You’re an informal informer providing informative information…” “Form-free…” “Right. You’re an informal informer providing informative information, form-free, without formalities…” “And not in any particular format or conforming to a formula…” “Blimey. I’m losing the will here…” “It’s not MY fault, Blake. You asked if anyone could tip you the wink about who’d nicked your Tom Jones Sings Favourite Welsh Hymns and Choral Classics LP. I’m just saying that I might – possibly, potentially, hypothetically, informally – be able to nudge you in Jenna’s direction…” “JENNA?” “Possibly. Potentially. Hypothetically. Informally. If, IF, IF it was indeed Jenna who pinched it. Which I’m NOT actually saying! Well, not yet. Not formally, anyway.” “Vila. This is getting ridiculous. I’m a busy man. Narcissism’s a full-time job, let me tell you! It really is. You lot think it’s some sort of soft option to nurture a slightly sinister, ultimately self-destructive messiah complex. Well, let me tell you THIS: IT ISN’T! I’m worn out by all the self-admiration. I really am. And when I get back to my cabin at the end of yet another hard day of thinking I know best, of not listening to sensible advice and of intrinsically undervaluing any females I happen to come into contact with, well… Excuse ME if I just want to unwind for half an hour with a little bit of Tom, a big glass of Tizer and a quick blast of ‘Gwahoddiad’ and ‘I Bob Un Sy’n Ffyddlon’.” “You could always listen to your Nolan Sisters album instead. Or aren’t you in the mood for dancing, all of a sudden?” “I’ve gone off it. Not Welsh enough. Too Irish.” “That’s racist. I’m going to make a formal complaint.” “Woah! Woah! So, Vila, you’re happy to make a formal complaint, but only to be an INformal informer. Where’s the consistency in that?” “CONSISTENCY? There isn’t any. Whatever gave you the impression I’m Mr. Consistent?” “It’s just that someone told me th…” “Well, let ME tell you THIS, Blake! I rather think you’ve been…you’ve been…you’ve been...” “I’ve been WHAT, Vila…” “Misinformed.” Edited by Cygnus Bazza on 09-11-2024 16:54 Never close yourself to more, learn we can - that's for sure
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| Paula |
Posted on 09-11-2024 20:16
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 Moderator  Posts: 3153 Joined: 15.01.22 |
That was a brilliant bit of writing there, Cygnus Bazza. Really enjoyed it.
Resist the Host
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| Cygnus Bazza |
Posted on 09-11-2024 22:08
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Alpha Grade Posts: 2371 Joined: 14.06.22 |
That was a brilliant bit of writing there, Cygnus Bazza. Really enjoyed it. Thanks for that, Paula! I might have to increase the crud content next time, however. Never close yourself to more, learn we can - that's for sure
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| AnneArthur |
Posted on 16-11-2024 11:10
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 Alpha Grade Posts: 5941 Joined: 16.01.22 |
Very funny indeed, Cygnus Bazza! |
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| Cygnus Bazza |
Posted on 17-11-2024 18:10
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Alpha Grade Posts: 2371 Joined: 14.06.22 |
Very funny indeed, Cygnus Bazza! TVM, AA. Much appreciated! Never close yourself to more, learn we can - that's for sure
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| littlesue |
Posted on 18-11-2024 09:51
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 Alpha Grade Posts: 2840 Joined: 17.01.22 |
Very clever CB.
Cold! You don't know the meaning of the word cold! Cold is when you have ice on the INSIDE of your window!! Sue's Book Shelf https://www.mediafire.com/folder/z1xg...Zine_Shelf Rebel Run Video https://youtu.be/8prqS-XZtLo |
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| littlesue |
Posted on 18-11-2024 10:35
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Alpha Grade Posts: 2840 Joined: 17.01.22 |
Only one prompt this time. Our Email was hacked and I'm afraid some nasty person has gotten into some of our accounts and taken money...so I've had other things to worry about. Anyway, this is my prompt.. Light up the Sky! “We’ve had a message,” said Vila. “How? And from whom?” asked Avon. “Orac picked it up. It’s from Red.” “Oh that sweet little Robot that we saved,” Dayna reminded Avon. “He says,” Vila continued, “That as a big thank you from him and his friends, there is a package waiting for us at his former place of employment.” “Well, let’s go then,” urged Tarrant. “Red also says it might even cheer Mr Grumpy up.” “Mr Grumpy?” enquired Avon. “I think,” Soolin smiled, ” He means you!” Sure enough there was a package; a rather large package. Vila slowly opened the crate as the others stood around in the Scorpio’s hold. “As you can see. it was a bit too big for us to bring into the base.” “What’s in it?” asked Dayna. “Well, let’s see...” Inside was a bundle of warm clothes, hats and scarves, some folding chairs and another large box. Vila picked up the instructions. “Not to be used inside. Please read the enclosed leaflet for details...and once you light the blue touch paper stand well back. And that means you...Mr Grumpy.” Avon was not amused... A few hours later, they had all assembled on Xenon’s surface, resplendent in their new warm clothes, seated on the fold up chairs and clutching their hot chocolate topped with marshmallows. “Vila, it’s getting dark,” Avon pointed out. “Just a bit longer and then I light this blue touch paper...” “With what?” “That bonfire.” “What bon.....” as Avon spoke the stack of wood flared into life. “Oh, that’s lovely,” Dayna cried out. “Now, ladies and gentlemen, for your edification I shall light this taper and..” “Do get on with it, Vila!” Avon implored. Vila didn’t need bidding twice. He lit the taper; stepped over to the blue touch paper laid out on the ground and stepped back. The touch paper sparkled and fizzed and then... The dark sky lit up with the most beautiful display of lights. Rockets launched into space and exploded into a myriad of dazzling lights. “What are they?” Dayna murmured mesmerised. “Fireworks,” replied Tarrant, “at least that’s what it said on the box.” Soolin turned round to see Avon staring up at the light show. He seemed to be smiling. “And even Mr Grumpy approves.” 
Cold! You don't know the meaning of the word cold! Cold is when you have ice on the INSIDE of your window!! Sue's Book Shelf https://www.mediafire.com/folder/z1xg...Zine_Shelf Rebel Run Video https://youtu.be/8prqS-XZtLo |
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| M1795537OCVirn |
Posted on 18-11-2024 13:37
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Admin Posts: 8893 Joined: 14.01.22 |
Great stuff, CB and Littlesue!
"You're not sulking, I hope?"
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| Cygnus Bazza |
Posted on 20-11-2024 08:27
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Alpha Grade Posts: 2371 Joined: 14.06.22 |
Nice work, littlesue! I'd trust Vila with a taper, for some reason.
Never close yourself to more, learn we can - that's for sure
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| Joe Dredd |
Posted on 22-11-2024 13:32
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 Moderator Posts: 1355 Joined: 15.01.22 |
I hope you are okay, littlesue. |
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| M1795537OCVirn |
Posted on 22-11-2024 13:52
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Admin Posts: 8893 Joined: 14.01.22 |
Not sure where this came from, or even where it fits in, but... First there was nothing. Only a faint background hum, felt rather than heard... a stardrive in operation. They were in space? She opened her eyes. The light was devastating, painful: too bright. Shielding her sight with a hand, she struggled to sit up. The bare white cabin was unfamiliar, frightening. Gradually adjusting to the light, she wondered how long she’d been asleep. And why. What the hell were these clothes she was wearing? Everything was a question. “Welcome,” the quiet voice intruded - hard to tell if it was male or female, not that it mattered – “I trust you slept well? No side-effects of the..er.. medication?” That threw her: what...? “You are aboard the ‘Attica’,” the voice informed her, “En route to the tribunal.” That information might have been helpful if she had any idea how it related to anything. The disorientation was overwhelming. Nothing – NOTHING – made any sense. “We’re hoping you can help us to understand,” the officer smiled encouragingly, “If you would watch the recording –“ She was in a different room now. Probably. And still blank. The screen showed three people talking (arguing?). She didn’t recognise them. “What can you tell us about this conversation?” the officer continued, his tone hardening, “Failure to comply will, of course, nullify our agreement.” When she didn’t reply, he added, “I’m sure none of us want that.” She forced her mind to work. An officer...Space Force? Security? There was a distinctly uncomfortable feeling in her insides. The man was looking at her closely. She swallowed. And swallowed again. “Bathroom! “ he barked, pointing through a doorway. She managed to reach it before she started to throw up. “Payment will, of course, be withheld,” the officer advised, when she’d been recovered and brought back to face him again, “Until it has been earned. You were with Avon and the others a long time. If it’s not a personal question, why did you decide to become an informer?” She remembered. All of it. This slimy Fed was trying to trick her! Soolin stared back at him. “I’m not an informer! “ she snapped, “I swear I’m not!” "You're not sulking, I hope?"
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| littlesue |
Posted on 23-11-2024 07:19
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Alpha Grade Posts: 2840 Joined: 17.01.22 |
I hope you are okay, littlesue. Yes, I'm fine JD. We've got all our money back and changed EVERYTHING!!!!! Now it's my Magical Birthday coming up tomorrow (that's what the Doctor's receptionist called it) and I've got Pizza coming...and Prawn Cocktail Pringles...and cake...and bottles of white wine. So I'm all set!!!!! Cold! You don't know the meaning of the word cold! Cold is when you have ice on the INSIDE of your window!! Sue's Book Shelf https://www.mediafire.com/folder/z1xg...Zine_Shelf Rebel Run Video https://youtu.be/8prqS-XZtLo |
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| Cygnus Bazza |
Posted on 23-11-2024 09:29
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Alpha Grade Posts: 2371 Joined: 14.06.22 |
Classy offering, as ever, M1! I love a sting in a tale. Happy birthday for tomorrow, littlesue, btw. Every birthday is magical, of course. But some just that little bit more than others. Never close yourself to more, learn we can - that's for sure
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