Poor Choice Of Words

“What’s that?” Clem asked Floyd.

 

“Every time Super Genius Myrtle tells me how she’s decided I have to change,” his friend said, “I write it in the form of  a New Year’s resolution and put it into the jar.”

 

 

“Way I see it,” he went on, “that way it makes its point, is inconspicuous, and makes such a pretty appearance, the way I’d like her to be.”

 

 

“Why’d she storm out of the house in such a nasty mood?”  Clem asked.

 

 

“I made a slight error in judgment,” Floyd admitted.  “I told her exactly that, in exactly those very words.”

 

 

Welcome back to Rochelle’s weekly Friday Fictioneers, although it technically starts on Wednesday.

 

 

This week’s photo comes from Priya Bajpal .  The Christmas season isn’t over just yet and the year is still fairly new, so a merry and happy  both is in order.

Annunci

Interesting Wordplay

Lawrence, Freddy, Fanny, and Janet played Scrabble every Wednesday night.  They noticed, one Wednesday, though, that odd things were happening.

 

 

Lawrence spelled the word “Symphony”.  Suddenly an orchestra knocked on their door and played a Beethoven medley for them.

 

 

Stunned, Fanny spelled “Anchovy”.  Immediately a delivery man arrived with a seafood dinner for each of them.  Though they enjoyed the surprise, they were still upset.

 

 

It was Freddy’s turn, so he played along.   Confused, he spelled “Desert.”  Lo and behold, they were stranded in a barren wasteland.

 

 

Finally, Janet said, “Hey, here’s another ‘S’.  Let’s have some dessert.”

 

 

Once again it’s time for Rochelle’s  Friday Fictioneers.  Russell Gayer  has supplied this week’s photo prompt for one and all to enjoy.   Happy 2019, of course!

 

 

 

Be Careful What You Ask For

Uncle Buford was the Fensterblaus’ official family raconteur.  Most of his kin admitted tacitly that ‘raconteur’ was a polite euphemism for liar.

 

 

They all loved Aunt Eunice, though, so they humored her by honoring her request to visit his grave annually on his birthday and anniversary.

 

 

” I done tol’ y’all the ol’ coot was plum full of horse pucky,”  Cousin Dorothy Jane told Cousin Maudie Mae in a prudently hushed voice during their last visit.

 

 

“What y’all mean?” Maudie asked.

 “‘Member he always said,” the former claimed, ‘May a goat pee on my grave if’n’ I’s lyin’?”

 

 

Joyeux Noel, Buon Natale, Feliz Navidad, and Nollaig Shona.   Welcome back to Rochelle’s

 

Friday Fictioneers.   This week’s photo prompt has been supplied by Randy Mazie   .

Truth In Advertising

Mildred and Arthur were overly conscious of their looks.   They were always shopping for new and improved ways to keep up their appearance.

 

 

They finally found something they both could really like, a French cream, that promised to take an entire decade off their looks.  When it came in the mail they were ecstatic.

 

 

They made sure to set it aside, on their favorite counter, where nothing could possibly happen to it.

 

 

There was a bit of a problem though.

 

 

Their ever~curious son, nine~year~old Ralph, got his hands on it.  It lived up to its promise.

 

 

Welcome back as Rochelle and we all take another chance at Friday Fictioneers.   Regular Adam Ickes has given us this week’s photo.

The Pseudo~Scholars

  Mabel always enjoyed watching her favorite uncles, Lum and Abner, during their weekly chess game.

 

“This week should give the old fellows a lot to ramble on about,” she thought. “Reformation Sunday, All Saints and All Souls Days, Guy Fawkes Day.”

 

 

As always, the doting niece sat still, riveted by their pseudo~scholarly debate.  The boys spent hours making profound observations about history, theology, philosophy, as self~professed paragons of erudition always do.

 

 

“There’s only one thing that has me going crazy with suspense, though,” she couldn’t help wondering.  “Has either of them ever once really played chess?”

 

 

Rochelle, as always, brinks us yet another of her weekly Friday Fictioneers.   Instructions can be found on her blog.  This week’s photo has been provided by Jeff Arnold. 

Anita, Coffee

   “Anita, coffee!!” was a constant refrain at the coffee shop where Anita had been working for ten years.

 

 

“If I didn’t know better,” she told Harvey, a regular, “I’d swear my full name was Anita Coffee.”

 

 

“What’s your full name?” he asked. 

 

 

“Anita Cappuccino,” she replied.

 

 

“Knowing it would annoy her, Eunice said, ‘I understand. Every day, it’s the same grind.'”

 

 

“Floyd contributed his share, “It may never amount to a hill of beans.”

 

 

Suddenly a new customer put some money into the jukebox.  Not surprisingly, the song he played was Al Hirt’s “Java.”

 

 

It simply wasn’t Anita’s day.

 

Welcome back yet again to Rochelle’s weekly Friday Fictioneers, wherein this week Jilly Funell supplies the photo prompt.

 

Frindle

Ever the instigator, Larabie couldn’t help wanting to annoy Miz Kitti.

 

“Wow!” he opined, “Those clouds have quite a lot of  dord!”  Trying to act as if she had a clue, his befuddled friend nodded assent.

 

For days at a time he used the word whenever it was appropriate, and she never got it. All the while, she played along, though she was a wreck, wondering how could she not know what it means. 

 

 

For weeks at a time he played the game and his sidekick humored him.  Day after day she politely plotted her vengeance, thinking  “Mbwahahah!!!”

 

 

 

Welcome back yet again to Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers .  Here’s what a Dord is. This week’s photo prompt has been supplied by Douglas M. MacIlroy

 

The Rule of Three

 

“Here’s the park where famous threesomes, real and fictional, congregate,” Ralph told Sam, to the latter’s incredulity.

“Oh yeah,” Ralph went on. “They have Stooges, Wise Men, Blind Mice, Musketeers~you name it.“

“In their world they have a weird sense of humor, so often the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse, or the Magnificent Seven, will try to sneak in.”

“Naturally,”  Sam admitted. “I especially like the Three Witches from ‘MacBeth.'”

 

“Don’t let their cutesy rhymes fool you,” Ralph warned. “They can be trouble.”

 

“Oh, absolutely!” Sam conceded.

 

This went on for a while as Sam continued to listen politely.

 

Here we are, yet again, for Friday Fictioneers.  Rochelle leads us weekly in our hundred~word story based upon a photo prompt.  This week’s prompt has been provided by Fatima Fakir Deria

 

Icelandic Puffins

Harold and Margret were out on their latest weekly jaunt to the local zoo, when, from out of nowhere, he was plum stunned:   

 

“Get a load of those Icelandic Puffins!!” he screamed. When his girlfriend wanted an explanation, he told her of all the enchanting tales he’s heard from Anna, his supervisor at work, who’s from Iceland, and his Facebook friend Lisa, who loves it so that her very nickname is Iceland.

“I’ll give you one thing,” Margret conceded. “It’s not too hard to keep you happy. Just give you a couple friends who can tell you about some exotic location, and a couple birds from there, it’s as if you’re a native!”   

Here’s yet another of me contributions to Three Line Tales                                                                                                  

Go to Only 100 Words

to find out about the rules.  This week’s photo prompt  comes fromWynand van Poortvliet                 

via Unsplash.                     

What Pegman Saw~Marcusson, Julius Marcusson

Herman and Harriet were finally on their much anticipated honeymoon in the Bahamas.                                                                                                                                                Over the course of their time there, they kept noticing an oddly familiar looking fellow.                                                                                                                                        “Now I know where I’ve seen him before,” the bride told her groom. “He was at the church and reception. I assumed he was someone’s boyfriend.”                                                                                                                         At the casino that evening he offered to buy them drinks. Sensing their tension, he explained, “I assure you, friends, I intend you no harm.”                                                                                                                          “My name is Marcusson, Julius Marcusson. You see, I’ve been assigned to observe you throughout the course of your married life. ”                                                                                                                              “Huh?!” the pair gasped.                                                                                                                  “Oh it’s quite common,” Marcusson went on. “It’s just that hardly any couples ever get to meet their version of me. I just thought I’d be somewhat silly.”                                                                                   

“Our Guardian Angel has a sense of humor!” the bride opined. “That’s nice in a bizarro way!”                                                                                                                                     Please join us weekly for What Pegman Saw

This week’s photograph is of Abaco, Bahamas

 

Instructions are available at the link above.