Dog Site - Dog Stuff
Dog Forum | Dog Pictures

Go Back   Chazhound Dog Forum > Dog Forum News > The Fire Hydrant


Reply
 
Thread Tools Display Modes
  #1  
Old 12-22-2012, 04:35 PM
milos_mommy's Avatar
milos_mommy milos_mommy is offline
Top Dog
 
Join Date: Oct 2006
Posts: 14,565
Default Share your writing

I think we did this a while ago, but let's bring it back! Anyone on here who is a writer, share some of your work! Either an excerpt, link to a website, poetry, short story, whatnot. It can be old or new.

I wrote a bunch of poems and short prose recently, so I'll share when I get back from dinner.
__________________
"My favorite color is green, green like newly cut grass. When it comes to green with envy, though, you can stick it up your @ss!" ~ Grammy



http://www.adorablebeasts.blogspot.com
Reply With Quote
  #2  
Old 12-23-2012, 05:21 PM
Renee750il's Avatar
Renee750il Renee750il is offline
Felurian
 
Join Date: Dec 2003
Location: Where the selas blooms
Posts: 94,266
Default

This is the paragraph where I left off on The Black Dog Dialogues (about 43,000 words so far)

Quote:
Beyond the semicircle of light from the lantern the darkness seemed sentient, resentful of the encroaching illumination, pressing, testing the protective circle cast around me. Creepy. I reminded myself it was still a reasonably sane hour of the night, not even close to midnight, that the noises I kept telling myself weren***8217;t there were just coming from the cattle in the trailer behind me, that sound carried funny out here.

When I got the key I remembered to grab my gloves.

I got the .38 out, loaded it and stuck it in my pocket.
__________________
In a controversy the instant we feel anger we have already ceased striving for the truth, and have begun striving for ourselves. ~Buddha

Stupid is the most notoriously incurable and contagious disease known to mankind. If you find yourself in close proximity to someone infected with stupid, walk away as soon as said infection is noted.


There are few things more nauseating than pure obedience. ~ Kvothe

***8206;"silence is the language of god, all else is poor translation."
— Rumi
Be a god. Know when to shut up.


Good Kharma Tags
Felurian
Reply With Quote
  #3  
Old 12-23-2012, 09:06 PM
Dekka's Avatar
Dekka Dekka is offline
Just try me..
 
Join Date: May 2007
Location: Ontario
Posts: 19,282
Default

Have you written more Renee?

If so you will have to send me moar!!

I have a couple of stories on the go. Here is the start of my young adult novel.

Quote:
Waking up sucks at the best of times. Waking up in the ground disoriented and feeling sick is particularly heinous. Panic, lots of panic. No flailing though, I discovered that you can't flail buried in the dirt. It was all I could do to dig my way up. Thankfully whoever interred me wasn't into shovelling. It was a shallow grave even by such standards.

Breathing, now breathing is wonderful. Just how wonderful is highlighted by not knowing how long its been since your last breath. I sat there in the loose earth taking deep gasps of the crisp predawn air. Looking around I recognized where I was, a small over grown farm grave yard in a farm field that belonged to one of my neighbours. I then noticed, still taking deep breaths I smelt of cow. The field that surrounded the little graveyard was in the middle of a corn field this year. The manure that had been spread for the corn had run off to enrich the weeds that hid the graves. For those who are not of the farming persuasion, cow smells a bit like horse. Only more goaty.

The extra oxygen seemed to round up my wandering wits. Why had I been sleeping in the earth? Teenagers are prone to strange behaviour, but I was pretty sure I hadn't volunteered for this. I didn't remember a party. In fact yesterday seemed hazy. Yesterday had been a ***8230; monday. Which meant I had to get home, get cleaned up and get to school. I got up and brushed myself off as best as I could and began trudge in the direction I hoped was home. Corn is good for cows, its good with butter. It is good for making mazes for kids to get lost in. It is not good for trudging through in the faint light of dawn. Corn is taller than you might think, especially in early fall before harvest. The tops block off the light and the leaves grab and trap you as you try to squeeze past. It was convenient that the rows were planted in the direction I had decided was home.
Reply With Quote
  #4  
Old 12-23-2012, 09:17 PM
Airn's Avatar
Airn Airn is offline
Top Dog
 
Join Date: Nov 2012
Location: Bentonville, AR
Posts: 979
Default

This was an assignment for an English class I had in high school. But.... I really like it and since I don't have any of my other writings at hand, I thought I'd share this one.

It's a prequel to short story we had to read. I'm much more of a fantasy person but it was fun to write something a little different. Enjoy : )

Prequel to In Another Country


It was the fall of '16 and war was on everyone's mind. I wasn't sure how it all begin. Something about a duke being assassinated. This had triggered the European countries to get a little testy with each other. Before we knew it, they were declaring war. Why that should matter to Americans, I didn't know. I just knew I had a duty to my country and was honored to do it. They didn't give us long to prepare for it, or give us much information on where we were going and why. A soldier's job isn't to ask questions-we just do.
So there I was, on an airplane, heading towards the front lines of the River Somme to fight the Germans. I still wasn't sure what was going on, but I was so anxious and excited I didn't care. I was going to honor my country and family. Do what was right. Give the world some justice... That whole spiel. At least, that's what I thought we were doing. It's amazing how much you can believe in something one moment, and then lose all hope in that same thing in the next.
************************************************** ****************************
I stepped out of the airplane. The major was yelling at us to hurry up and get into the trench. It was a horrid sight. Bodies littered the ground; rigor mortise left their bodies in grim positions. This sight made my sense for honor and justice wave for a brief moment. Would this be the way I was to die? In a filthy trench, on top of my comrades, fighting for a cause I had no clue about? That thought didn't have time to linger long because the general was informing us of a mission to secure an area nearby that contained civilians. I was psyched. I was getting a chance to prove myself! I'd only been here five minutes and I was already going to be a hero. The general needed five soldiers to scout ahead in case of an ambush on the way. Not yet familiar with the terrain or details of the trench war, I was unaware of the nearly suicidal mission I would be undertaking in a few short hours. Soldiers later informed me how crazy I was to attempt such a mission and how little the higher-ups understood of the war. I disregarded most of what the men said. Nothing could dissuade me from taking on the mission to prove myself.
The next morning I awoke before dawn to a volley of shots being fired from both sides. Not the best way to wake up, but my irritation soon disappeared as I remembered today was the day I would be carving my name in history. After a quick bout of stretches, gruel and some rough greetings to the other residents of the trench, I was ready to report to the general. To my disappointment I was told he had left minutes before I arrived to oversee some repairs being made to a barbed-wire fence a mile or so down the line. Apparently the Germans weren't fighting much today due to some miscommunication with their leader. The better for us, right? Anyway, I was told he was due back the next day and I would need to be a foot soldier today.
After midday, I guess the Germans got their communications back in order because we received volley after volley of shots. My area wasn't in the line of most of the fire, so I didn't see the destruction the German artillery could do until hours later. My unit was called in to relieve the remaining soldiers, since the replacements troops wouldn't arrive until that evening.
As I was suiting up and getting a crash-course on the best way to decimate the Germans, my friend advised me. "Watch out. If you stay over too long, they'll get you." I nodded and tried to seem somber. Of course, I was busy trying to plan how I could possibly be a hero this way instead of a suicide mission.
I walked up to the lip of the trench and wedged myself between some debris and a private from another unit. He shot a couple of Germans before they managed to figure out where we were. I think up until that point I hadn't realized how awful our situation was. I shot and killed a machine-munist before he could get off another clip into our line. While dealing with that, I failed to noticed the lone German higher up, aiming his gun in my area. I quickly shot off another round and ducked-just in time. However, the private didn't and I watched as his body jerked backwards into the pit. He tried to scream, but the bullet was blocking his throat and all he managed was a gurgled gasp and a few twitches before joining the thousands of others that had spent their last breaths in this trench. At first, I was shocked. My epiphany came too late. Then the idea of vengeance came upon me and I was determined to kill any and all Germans who dared to kill an American soldier. I jumped up and fired off three rounds before getting my helmet shot off. This failed to phase me and I managed another round before having to retreat into the trench to get more ammunition. I grabbed handfuls of clips and shoved one into my gun and the others into my pockets, jacket, anything I could cram a clip into. I was going to get the German who killed that private.
With a cry I vaulted onto no man's land and started running across to find the one responsible for my comrade's agonized death. I didn't get far before they started firing at me. I didn't care. As far as I was concerned there was no way they could shoot me. I was delivering justice and God would protect me. I was ridding the world of bad. I proved to be wrong as a bullet whizzed past my ear. I decided running into the dragon's lair probably wasn't the best solution and quickly turned on my heel and started running towards my sanctuary. I wasn't fast enough. A few yards away from the trench I felt my knee buckle under me and I fell forward. My unit hustled forward to pull me in to safety.
I was relieved. I wasn't dead! Which was good, because that would hardly constitute as being a heroic act. I was still slightly dazed, but I felt enough to feel the searing pain in my leg. I looked down to see my calf, or what was left of it, ripped and the bone splintered. I tried to stand and fell forward with a crack of my leg. I screamed in pain and passed out.
************************************************** ****************************
I awoke in a hospital tent that was alive with activity. I blinked a few times and cleared my throat. It felt like I had swallowed cotton. It took me a full minute to remember what had happened. I blinked again and steeled myself for the worst. I looked down at my leg and gasped in shock. I had no leg! Where there was once a calf, ankle and foot, there was nothing. My leg was a stump at the knee, heavily bandaged. I looked around. By my bed there was a sheet spotted with red. It seemed to be covering something lumpy and bloodied. I lifted the sheet and found my ankle and foot. I screamed. A nurse came running and shoved a needle in my arm. I heard more yelling from the nurse and others answering her as I drifted into a drugged sleep.
************************************************** ****************************
When I next awoke, it was in an actual hospital farther from the fighting. I never asked for much information other than if I would ever be able to go back. I was told no by everyone I asked. I spent weeks sitting in the hospital bed. I was to be given a medal. I wasn't sure for what, and I didn't care. I had gotten what I wanted but not by some heroic act of courage and bravery. No cunning and wit had been involved in my short run in no man's land.
After my usual lunch of chicken soup and alone, a man in a suit came up to my bed. I blankly stared up at him. "I hear you can't go back out there. Shame." I blinked and looked down at my leg. He looked at it, too and said, "Well, if that's the case, you could always do something with your time. There's a place in Milan. Physical therapy for war vets. Supposed to help get your body back to where it was. New machines and all. Would you like to try it?" I looked up at him and slowly surveyed the room. I nodded and he smiled and rattled off more about how the place was helping all kinds of injured vets and such. I had nothing else to do.
He came back the next day and informed me I would leaving by the end of the week. Everything was worked out and I would have accommodations at the hospital in Italy. The previous night had been a difficult one for me. I realized I had nothing left. I didn't get to be a hero. I wasn't anywhere near any friends and family and as far as I knew, the war was still going on. I had nothing back in America. I was planning to acquire everything I needed by going home a decorated war veteran. Now all I had was a leg without a middle and a chance to make it better. I decided to take this physical therapy head on. I would go every day. I wouldn't lose hope. I couldn't. This was all I had.
************************************************** ****************************



It would be fun to have a weekly/monthly/whatever writing event on here. I like challenging myself and it's always nice to see what other people write (especially when using the same topic.) Just an idea : )
Reply With Quote
  #5  
Old 12-23-2012, 09:23 PM
Renee750il's Avatar
Renee750il Renee750il is offline
Felurian
 
Join Date: Dec 2003
Location: Where the selas blooms
Posts: 94,266
Default

Quote:
Originally Posted by Dekka View Post
Have you written more Renee?

If so you will have to send me moar!!

I have a couple of stories on the go. Here is the start of my young adult novel.
I love that story you've got started, Kerri. Hopefully you can put some good time in on it now!

Yes, I think I've probably done another three or four thousand words since you last read it, plus a couple of rounds of editing and tweaking and tightening things up, especially the first part. I'll send it to you

***********

I think you've got a good story started there, Airn. Your protagonist's voice is staying true and you've got a good foundation to build from.

Keep working on it, write more, edit, tweak, keep little things in mind like keeping your verb tense active and consistent (that's one of those things that seems to manage to sneak in when you get caught up in writing the story ). Sometimes walking away from it for some time, whether it's a few days or a few weeks, helps with the editing.
__________________
In a controversy the instant we feel anger we have already ceased striving for the truth, and have begun striving for ourselves. ~Buddha

Stupid is the most notoriously incurable and contagious disease known to mankind. If you find yourself in close proximity to someone infected with stupid, walk away as soon as said infection is noted.


There are few things more nauseating than pure obedience. ~ Kvothe

***8206;"silence is the language of god, all else is poor translation."
— Rumi
Be a god. Know when to shut up.


Good Kharma Tags
Felurian
Reply With Quote
  #6  
Old 12-23-2012, 09:34 PM
Airn's Avatar
Airn Airn is offline
Top Dog
 
Join Date: Nov 2012
Location: Bentonville, AR
Posts: 979
Default

Reading back over it, I would change quite a bit. But it was two hour's work for an English assignment, so I didn't perfect it. Things I write on my free time are a lot different. Maybe not better, but very different. I have a hard time finding a quitting place.

Thanks for the tips, though. I've been wanting to get back into writing : )
Reply With Quote
  #7  
Old 12-23-2012, 09:37 PM
Renee750il's Avatar
Renee750il Renee750il is offline
Felurian
 
Join Date: Dec 2003
Location: Where the selas blooms
Posts: 94,266
Default

One of the best things, for me, was getting involved in a writers' workshop and the Knoxville Writers Guild and then the suspense writing group (which is weird, because up until now I've mainly written fantasy, but it's usually had elements of suspense, so . . . ).

Helping other people edit their work will help you with your own.

I think you did really well for a two hour assignment. It's a first draft. First drafts get changed . . . a lot, lol.
__________________
In a controversy the instant we feel anger we have already ceased striving for the truth, and have begun striving for ourselves. ~Buddha

Stupid is the most notoriously incurable and contagious disease known to mankind. If you find yourself in close proximity to someone infected with stupid, walk away as soon as said infection is noted.


There are few things more nauseating than pure obedience. ~ Kvothe

***8206;"silence is the language of god, all else is poor translation."
— Rumi
Be a god. Know when to shut up.


Good Kharma Tags
Felurian
Reply With Quote
  #8  
Old 12-23-2012, 09:39 PM
Dekka's Avatar
Dekka Dekka is offline
Just try me..
 
Join Date: May 2007
Location: Ontario
Posts: 19,282
Default

I agree so much! I found a local writers group and have been going now for about a year.
Reply With Quote
  #9  
Old 12-23-2012, 09:49 PM
GoingNowhere's Avatar
GoingNowhere GoingNowhere is offline
Top Dog
 
Join Date: Jul 2008
Location: USA
Posts: 1,669
Default

Here's a little short story that I wrote for a intro to creative writing course this year. It fits with the season at least

Cupidity (Written for a creative writing course)


Quote:
Rico Dente couldn’t believe the goddamn kids these days. Not fifty years ago, it was a nickel under the pillow, a happy kid, and a hefty weight in his pockets. Yet just two months ago, he had given little Penny McPringle a quarter for each of her two front teeth. It hadn’t been one of his easier jobs either. The window to the little girl’s bedroom had been locked and so he had taken it upon himself to try the front door. The knob wouldn’t turn, and so Rico withdrew a thin wire from the pocket of his suit. He knew it wasn’t the easiest way – God knows Mr. Claus had confronted him about it time and time again. Rico could hear his scratchy voice echoing in his head. You know, the chimney’s the easiest route.
But Rico was a dignified man and did not intend to get soot on his suit. And so, as the cold breeze numbed his fingertips, he set to work on the lock. Practiced as he was, one click later the door creaked open. At that moment, a little white box on the wall started to beep and a brown blur shot around the corner.
“Ugh. Get off me.” Rico blocked the little dog’s attempts to dirty his suit with its paws, shoving a loaf of bread from his briefcase into its mouth. The dog snorted and trotted off to chew his prize. Rico turned to address the box which was still loudly objecting to his presence.
The first time Rico had seen one of these little boxes, he had nearly been exposed. The beeps had grown louder and more frantic until Rico heard footsteps and muffled voices above his head. He had fled and later returned to - with a disgruntled sigh - shove himself into the chimney like that old, fat man. Unfortunately, his lack of a rotund beer belly had not suited him well in this instance. With his wings unable to spread, he landed in a heap with a loud and ash filled thud.. Soot clouds surrounded him and left him sputtering. His suit needed three washes and he couldn’t sit down without cringing and cursing for a week.
Now he was prepared. Pulling out a small silver contraption from his briefcase, he waved it over the buttons on the box. Four of the buttons illuminated themselves, each in a different color. Rico punched each button and as soon as the machine was silenced, he strode past the contentedly munching puggle, up the stairs and into Penny’s bedroom. Setting each foot on the floor without so much as a creak in the floorboards, he slipped two quarters under the ruffled pink pillow and removed the two tiny incisors.

As the sun rose over the horizon and the birds began to sing their lullaby songs, Rico settled himself down on his cloud and shut his eyes to sleep. Before he could drift into dreamland, he heard her cries.

“But that’s only 50 cents,” Penny said with a muffled sob.
“Honey, that’s almost enough to go to the Dollar Store and buy a toy,” said Penny’s mother.
“But I want to go to the store now.” Her sobs got louder.
“Maybe if you look in your piggy bank you will be able to go now.”
“But I don’t want to use my piggy b-b-b-aaank.” Her cries turned into frantic wails.

“Damnit.” Rico cursed himself from up in the cloud and put his fingers in his ears. Her shrieks were painful. His boss had implemented the sound system after Rico had ignored so many house calls that he had left one too many children beginning to question his existence. With the new system, whenever he displeased a child, he was forced to endure the earsplitting wrath of the tantrums. Even from up in his cloud, he may as well have been the teddy bear in Penny’s arms for as loud and clear as he could hear her. His ears were still ringing.
Now, as he was forced to accept that inflation had made its way down to the pull-up wearing, nose picking portion of the public, he groaned. He could already feel his pockets getting lighter for he knew that Mr. Claus wouldn’t give him a penny more than two dollars a tooth.
When Rico arrived on the Clauses’ front porch clutching his bag of teeth, he caught a glimpse through the window of the hairy old man sitting at his desk. His stomach bulged over the sides of his chair and Rico saw him motion to someone out of view. In a matter of seconds, an elf scurried up to the man and presented him with a Miller Light.
“Hey Claus, open up,” Rico shouted through the door.
“You get that,” Mr. Claus said to the elf. The door opened and Rico looked down to see the small man, clothed in green felt. Rico shot a glance over the little man’s pointed hat and saw Mr. Claus hastily sweeping the contents of his desktop into a drawer.
“This way please.” The elf extended his tiny hand, but Rico brushed him aside, instead stepping over the threshold past the elf and taking care not to step on the assortment of junk scattered about the floor.
“How many this time?” Mr. Claus said.
“Twelve hundred and three. But you know, the going rate these days, it’s not – ”
“It’s two dollars a tooth. Take it or leave it.”
“But sir, you know, it costs more than it used to. Two fifty. I’ll take two-fifty.” Rico stretched his neck and lifted his chin. The effort did little to enhance his position.
“Two dollars. You know the deal. And I can’t be getting any more chipped teeth either. Last week’s batch was inexcusable,” Mr. Claus said. Rico Dente let his shoulders sag and lowered his jawbone to its normal position. He didn’t quite know what the man needed the teeth for. Once, when he had dared to ask, Claus had shrugged and pointedly stated that the elves needed tools. Rico didn’t question. Mr. Claus was his biggest buyer and he wasn’t about to screw with that. And so he settled for picturing mallets made of molars and knives made of incisors all being brandished by little men in green hats.
“Fine. Two dollars then,” Rico responded. He poured the teeth out on the table before Mr. Claus. Mr. Claus turned each tooth over, inspecting it for plaque and cracks.
“I can pay up next week,” The large bellied man said. The side of Rico’s lip twitched, but he forced his face into a smile. Claus hadn’t paid up for two weeks now.
“Okay, make it next week. My bills need paying too.”

When Rico showed up on the Clauses’ doorstep again the next week, the blinds were drawn and the cottage was quiet. A large round bale of hay, barely dusted with snow, was the only sign of recent activity on the premises. A few reindeer absentmindedly munched on the scatterings of hay that had fallen from the bale. Rico seethed. He yelled his customary greeting through the shut door, but only gales of wind sounded in reply.
Rico tried the knob. When it didn’t resist, he gave the door a bump with his elbow and peeked inside. The desk chair was empty. Rico’s eyes darted around the room, finding no sign of life. He gave the door another bump and it swung open fully. Despite the desolate air, he tip toed toward the mahogany desk like a cat in mid hunt. This time, it had not been swept clean. I wonder… Rico thought to himself.
Rico carefully opened each desk drawer. The first was stuffed with envelopes, each addressed in a sloppy scribble, some decorated with stickers and sequins. The second drawer was much like the first. The third and bottom drawer was also filled with letters; however, atop the colorful, childlike envelopes was one that stood out to Rico. It was wrinkled – clearly well handled – and unlike the others, it was not written out to “Santa” in magic marker or crayon, but rather to “Nicholas Claus” in a neat, typewritten print. Rico opened the flap and pulled out the contents of the envelope.
His eyes widened.
“No ****?”
The sun kissed face of a stark naked Cupid gazed up from the photograph with a sultry grin. Cupid’s messy auburn hair hung around his face and a quiver was slung over his shoulder. Rico eyes shifted downward and he quickly slapped his hand over the photograph, flipping it over in the process. A note was handwritten on the back.
“Nick, I received your extra payment of teeth and so I thought I would send you a little bonus of my own. You might be happy to know that my arrows are working better than ever – baby teeth seem to have an innocence to them that fortifies my arrows. I’ve re-tipped all my arrows. I was happy to see that there were no chips or cracks in this payment installation. Visit me again soon. ***9829;Cupid”
Rico threw up a little in the back of his mouth. The sleazebag was off sleeping with Cupid and he was still out six thousand bucks. Rico slipped the photo back into the envelope and placed it in his pocket. He contemplated the blackmail that he now had at his disposal. His fingers traced the edges of the evidence inside his pocket as he thought about the agony that he could inflict. With that, his mind jumped back to the countless hours that he had spent curled on his cloud with his fingers in his ears, trying to ward off the sounds of tantrums. He suddenly smiled to himself in consideration of an even better idea. He kept the photo tucked inside his pocket, just in case.

MORE...
__________________
-GoingNowhere



My Hiking Blog: http://thehikinghokie.blogspot.com/
Reply With Quote
  #10  
Old 12-23-2012, 09:50 PM
GoingNowhere's Avatar
GoingNowhere GoingNowhere is offline
Top Dog
 
Join Date: Jul 2008
Location: USA
Posts: 1,669
Default

Quote:
On Mount Crumpit, Max bounded gleefully through the snow. Before each successive takeoff, only his shiny black nose and flapping ears were visible above the snowline.
“What have you been doing out there, dog?” Geisel Grinch said to the powdery animal that had just made his appearance at the base of the cave. Reaching a long fingered hand out of the entrance, Geisel grabbed the dog by the scruff of its neck and hoisted it inside. In a flurry of paws and snow, Max shook out his silky brown coat and flopped over onto his back. White powder exploded into the cave. Geisel sputtered a mouthful of snow and punted the dog across the room. With a whimper, Max hit the back wall of the cave and slunk away until he was no more than another shadow in the darkness. The light that flooded the entryway was enough to illuminate but a small portion of the cave. Rays attempted to filter through small cracks in the ceiling with little success.
Yawning, Geisel rolled his head from one shoulder to the other and settled himself down on the moth-eaten sofa. When he awoke, his eyes met those of the little dog who sat sheepishly in the corner with one paw drawn snugly to his chest. Geisel brushed himself off as he sat up, noticing the wispy chestnut colored hairs on his trousers and the Max-sized indentation between his legs in the couch. Unsure what had awoken him, he blinked sleepily and turned to survey his home. Silhouetted against the light outside the cave’s entry-way, an ice statue stood in the snow. The statue blinked.
Geisel lurched upright and headed for the entrance.
“I don’t do no door to door sales.” It was times like these when Geisel Grinch wished more than ever that he had a door to slam. Instead, he scoffed and began to turn on his heel without another word.
“Mr. Grinch, it’s me.” The voice came from the statue. Geisel studied the thin frosty figure. Its voice was a little too low. Its nose didn’t have a porcine quality. And its hair, frozen in place, did seem to be a bit too flat to be one of them Hoos.
“All right, come in. But don’t you go dripping in my doorway.”
Geisel shouldn’t have bothered with his request, for as soon as the ice man stiffly climbed into the hole and out of the blizzarding wind, water began to puddle in the threshold. The ice man wiped his eyes.
“Took you long enough,” Rico Dente said as he wrung out his soggy jacket and straightened his shoulders.
“God Dente, I wasn’t expecting you.” The Grinch’s expression softened.
“It’s good you weren’t. I almost didn’t find your **** mountain. They ought to call this place Whereville. ” Rico chuckled at his own joke. “But that’s beside the point. I need your help.”
Geisel raised his eyebrows.
“Mr. Claus is M.I.A,” Rico stated.
“And?”
“And he hasn’t paid up in three weeks.” Rico glanced at his watch as if willing the discussion to hurry up and finish.
“So what do you want me to do about it?”
“Here’s the deal. You teach Claus a lesson. You get him to pay what he owes and we’ll split it 50-50.” At the mention of a deal, Geisel’s entire body became more attentive.
“I’m listening.”
“I need you to steal Christmas,” Rico said. He looked expectantly at the con man standing in front of him. “If you can stop Christmas, I can promise that Claus won’t be able to hear himself think for a year.” Rico thought of Penny McPringle and her ear piercing wails. “He’ll learn to pay what he owes.”
Geisel considered the proposition. He tried to keep a neutral face, but his mind was already spinning with possibilities. This could be fun. He smiled a crooked smile.
“You, sir, have yourself a deal.” The two shook hands and Geisel Grinch set to planning.


Three days before Christmas, Rico found himself presented with an early surprise.
The headlights momentarily blinded him. Swirls of air rushed up from under the sled as the reindeer skidded to a halt in midair. Rico stumbled backwards and nearly fell off of the cloud. He stared in shock. At first, it appeared as if the reindeer were driving the sled themselves. Once the shiny red vehicle was stopped, however, it became apparent that this was not the case. A green hat appeared over the sleek side of the sled and was followed by a tiny head and body. The same elf that had opened the door for Rico at the North Pole hauled himself over the edge of the sled and stuck a landing. He tipped his hat.
“Mr. Dente, sir,” The elf squeaked. “I come with payment.” Rico turned and stared. The elf shoved a piece of construction paper and a neatly sealed envelope into Rico’s hand and attempted to hoist himself back into the sled. After three failed attempts, the elf stood next to the sled, seemingly pondering his next move.
Rico shot a bemused look at the creature. “Do you need a hand?”
“That would be especially helpful sir.” Rico extended his hand to the little man, but rather than taking hold, the elf placed his pointed shoe in Rico’s palm and vaulted into the sled. He cracked a whip and the sled lurched forward, eventually fading behind the clouds. Rico wiped the shoe marks off of his hand and, stunned, looked at the piece of paper that he held. A dense scrawl read:

‘Dear Mr. Dente,
I must apologize for this tardy payment. Prancer broke a leg and required urgent attention. Three weeks payment can be found in the attached envelope. A Merry Christmas to you.
-Claus’

Rico laughed at the sorry excuse. Yet, sure enough, the envelope contained a thick wad of bills. Rico pulled each bill carefully out of the envelope, counting his earnings. In his hand he held exactly six thousand two hundred and eight dollars – precisely two dollars per tooth sold to Mr. Claus. Not a penny less, not a penny more.
Rico smiled faintly. Payment was payment. He sighed with the realization that another trip to Mount Crumpit was in order. Gathering his things and throwing on an extra jacket, Rico slid off of his cloud and landed on earth with an airy bounce.


The wind howled mournfully at the summit of Mount Crumpit.
“Mr. Grinch,” Rico called from outside the entrance. A fuzzy muzzle poked its way out of the hole into the cold air. The shiny nose attached to the muzzle twitched as Max inhaled Rico’s scent.
“Go get Mr. Grinch,” Rico said to the dog and shooed him back into the cave. Max backed away from the flapping hands momentarily, bounding forward not ten seconds later to attempt another greeting. Rico knew that dogs were useless. “Mr. Grinch,” he called again. “I have your money, but there’s no need to continue with the plan.” There was no response. After five minutes of no reply and avoiding the dog’s attempts to smother him in kisses, Rico placed a note and an envelope just inside the hole.

In the shadows of the cave, Geisel Grinch sat silently, listening to every word. When Rico disappeared from sight, he strode to the door, snatched up the envelope and opened it. Cupid gazed back at him. Geisel looked curiously at the photo, and smiled a crooked smile.

Rico arrived on his cloud and collapsed. He felt a quick pain in his thigh as the corner of an envelope pricked him. Grabbing the envelope out of his pocket, he threw it aside and as he did so, did a double take. The envelope was crisp and long without a word of text on the front. Oh ****, Rico thought.
That's the end
__________________
-GoingNowhere



My Hiking Blog: http://thehikinghokie.blogspot.com/
Reply With Quote
Reply

Bookmarks

Thread Tools
Display Modes

Posting Rules
You may not post new threads
You may not post replies
You may not post attachments
You may not edit your posts

BB code is On
Smilies are On
[IMG] code is On
HTML code is Off



All times are GMT -5. The time now is 07:11 PM.


©1997-2013 Chazhound Dog Site