I twittered our vacation, tweeted my joys, Skyped my disappointments and Flickred my adventures on Facebook just like a movie star watching a bunch of pink balloons squeaking in the hands of bored clowns. Our triplicate outing felt like a bouncy bed creeping along the floor that suddenly wakes the neighbors, provides snickers and giggles, and becomes whipped cream Frenzy.
We went picnicking and accidentally meet the snake. Ginger and Abby screamed. God Almighty did they scream. They screamed like bilious man occupying a burning rickshaw, trying to eat jalapeno ice cream while navigating through a fireworks factory. Cubby the snake became our friend, at least until he gave birth to a dozen pink babies and I took a shovel and made snake pate'.
The rest of our busman's holiday unfolded peaceful-like except for that bubbly blowhard of a Judge wannabe Judy treating us plaintiffs like dogs and treating the defendant like the pink porcine he owned. We won the real pig, all squealing and snorting. Ginger verified it was an it. A don't ask, don't tell moment. Piggy lacked nuts so we added pinoli to the stuffing and declared it bib and tucker time.
We even asked the defendant if he wanted to join us at the luau. I set a bright pink table with flowers like any table dressed for a successful meal while placating a single-minded, biased blogger. Roasted porky plaintiff buried in leaves, surrounded by coals and marinated in exotic citrus. We created yummy buns!
--Dave F.
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6 comments:
Oh Dave...
Well, I'm embarrassed to say you lost me in paragraph three. (Really, it's more like I got lost in paragraph three, sorry.)
However! You included one of those perfect lines I always look for in your work. You know. It's where the art thing comes into play.
"Our triplicate outing felt like a bouncy bed creeping along the floor that suddenly wakes the neighbors, provides snickers and giggles, and becomes whipped cream Frenzy."
Nice!
I tried but I couldn't make "treating the plaintiff like a dog" work in the 250 words. I wanted five or six more words BUT, I couldn't delete the other words without making it all into a mess... I wrote paragraphs one, two and four before three and forced three to fit into the middle.
"bouncy bed creeping along the floor" was one of the original gerunds. But, I couldn't stay in the bedroom without sounding like Howard Stern.
The toughest part of the exercise is not being able to change the gerund phrases. Everything else had to warp to the gerund. I felt my writing was too loose and too uncontrolled. For me, it was like adding meaningless words that might make sense and then forcing the character or voice to fit the looseness.
My characters never sound like this narrator. It's like Valley Girl chatter or mindless babble. I'm not good at that type of narration.
"They screamed like a bilious man occupying a burning rickshaw, trying to eat jalapeno ice cream while navigating through a fireworks factory." Heehee. I love this image.
I loved that line about the rickshaw too. That's why the next paragraph didn't make much sense. I ran into the word limit.
Dave. I finally finished my reads and I must give you kudos for most absurd story. Really wild and I enjoyed it! (snickers at the "don't ask, don't tell)
Meri
Thanks Meri.
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