In the comments, use the 10 random words below to create a cohesive, creative short story tying all the words together. And remember: after you finish, highlight your words and click the bold button to make them stand out and help you determine if you forgot any words (if you’ve missed some challenges, go back and try those too).
- Winnie the Pooh
- Prior work history
- Bathroom
- Song
- Head-shot
- Authorities
- Lawsuits
- Propaganda
- Orange Juice
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{ 37 comments… read them below or add one }
Poor Winnie the Pooh, his prior work history of hanging out with Tigger and the gang in the Hundred Acre Woods is worth next to nothing. Rumor is, he’s been hanging out in the bathroom at Griffith Park, singing “Rumbly in My Tumbly,” along with every other song from his soundtrack.
There he sits, waiting to hand out his head-shot, dodging the authorities, ignoring the lawsuits and crying over the campaign of propaganda which has been waged against him.
Everything was fine before Twitter, but the miracle app destroyed poor Pooh Bear.
He pours some more vodka into his orange juice, takes a sip, and waits.
“Winnie the Pooh sounds like two things a horse would do,” I thought to myself as I did both during my morning bathroom routine. There’s nothing better than sitting on the pot, singing the Pooh song, enjoying some orange juice, reading about lawsuits and propaganda in the local newspaper, filling out prior work history for an online resume while twitter texting on my Blackberry, and contemplating how funny I’d look if authorities busted down my door in the middle of it all and sent a head-shot of me to that same local newspaper.
TMZ reports that authorities are considering Whinnie the Pooh as a “person of interest” after Christopher was found brutally beaten in the bathroom of the local gentlemans club, Head-Shot, just before 11 o’clock yesterday evening.
The bear and his friend were drinking copius amounts of vodka and orange juice prior to the incident. The two had a prior work history that came to an abrupt end after Pooh was arrested for domestic violence due to beating his live-in girlfriend, Kanga.
Piglet sent a message via twitter that the media coverage of the two stars is nothing more than propaganda, and will probably end up in being settled in multiple lawsuits.
Pooh’s half-brother, Eeyore, is singing a different song however, claiming that Pooh just wants to be left alone.
Winnie the Pooh could not believe it. Miley Cyrus had quit Twitter!
Why?
Had the authorities influenced her? Perhaps it was the anti-Disney propaganda machine spreading hate over those bathroom pics she’d uploaded to her twitpic! Maybe it was the lawsuits from parents blaming her for turning their kids into annoying Miley clones? Maybe it was her prior work history as a gravel gargler which was finally affecting her ability to sing a song without the use of cutting edge editing tools. Or perhaps it was something more sinister.
Winnie suspected the paparazzi, who followed her every step and didn’t give her a moment of privacy. He would have to make an example of someone. All it would take was one well-placed head shot, a warning scrawled in honey, and then he would disappear back to the safe confines of Disney World. Then he can drink orange juice and smile over the justice he has delivered, while waiting for Miley’s return to Twitter.
Man, these are good. I don’t know about you guys, but I’m loving this concept 100 times more than I had expected…and I expected to LOVE them. So glad we did this!
I was in the bathroom this morning, listening to the radio when Kenny Loggins’ old song about Winnie the Pooh came bursting through the airwaves. This was one of my very favorites and I coud not help but sing along at the top of my lungs. I must say that my singing voice is usually enough to make the neighbors close their windows and call the proper authorities. Noise pollution is against the law, but with any luck this won’t result in any lawsuits caused by breaking crystal and injured eardrums! Unfortunately my prior work history as a music teacher and choir director has not helped me in the least bit to carry a tune. I have even tried gargling with honey and orange juice , as was advised in an article I read in the California Citrus Council newsletter, but that was just propaganda! I have even followed Melissa Ethridge, Joe Cocker and Rod Stewart on twitter to pick up 0n some tips, but to no avail. I guess I’ll just have to settle for being charming and still having that great head shot I took at the mall in the 80’s to post on facebook and e-harmony.
Margaret,
Love it! I especially love the part about the 80’s. I love the 80’s but my wife can’t stand them. She’s more into the lame 70’s.
Hi,
Hi, Shane. Just to let you know, I’m Sean’s mom and just kind of have fun following my kid around and tinkering with writing. It was sort of a joke, because I don’t have any current pictures that I like and wanted something to put on my facebook profile. I asked Sean to dig around for one and he refused to put any of my old “glamour shots” on. The 80’s were great for big hair and glamour shots…This was fun. Would love to do it again! (p.s., agree with your wife, though, I’m a child of the 60’s and 70’s).
On the way back to my table from the IHOP bathroom, my phone buzzed with a new message.
“Winnie the Pooh is being held by authorities in conjunction with illegal hunny smuggling rings all across the hundred acre woods. Owl is dea”
I was shocked when I read this on my twitter updates.
“Owl is dea”???
I had no clue that the Wise Ol’ Owl was a narc with the Drug Enforcement Agency.
I usually don’t subscribe to @head-shot harry’s social networking propaganda, but this was something that I had to delve into a bit more. I mean, those furry little bastards trusted Owl with their issues. Now to think that his prior work history is in question because he is believed to be working for the man.
I sat down and started to think of the lawsuits that will arise. Kanga, Rabbit, the Gophers that would whistle a song through their teeth when they talk.
The more orange juice I drink the less sense this makes. When did the US Government start hiring Owls for stakeouts?
My phone buzzed.
New message.
It was @head-shot harry again.
“Owl is dead from a self-inflicted gunshot wound to the head.”
Oh.
That makes more sense.
@Eric
That was awesome man. And I have not been to IHOP in years, but now I’m even more hungry for it.
@Margaret
I see where your son gets his love of writing from though. I say go with the glamour shot.
As for my wife; last year on Christmas eve I went through the checkout line at the supermarket and saw a $15 Time Life 80’s Tribute addition. I had to get it. Not for me mind you. I wrapped it up, put my wife’s name on it, and gave it to her for Christmas. This gift is the most talked about gift of all time. We get a kick out of it. Her reaction was priceless.
I got a call from Winnie the Pooh today. Seems he read an earlier blog post of mine promoting the hypnotic powers of Mickey Mouse and his friends at Mickey Mouse Clubhouse. Pooh wanted to know why he wasn’t part of the Disney propaganda machine. I assured him that I was no propagandist…just a daddy blogger.
Pooh threatened to call the authorities, file a lawsuit and, perhaps, even streak naked across the theme parks in hopes of ending up on TMZ.
”Anything,” he said, “I’ll do anything to steal ratings from that little, stinking mouse!”
“At least a streaking incident will get my head-shot on TMZ,” Pooh said. “
That’s a mug shot,” I said. “And that didn’t do much for Nick Nolte’s career,” I reminded him.
I told him not to get his panties in a twitter and that based on his prior work history and questionable relationship with Christopher Robin, he had little hope of being anything other than a second rate Disney character…particularly after he teamed up with Kenny Loggins to sing that terrible House at Pooh corner song! (You can’t make this stuff up…http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=prxkdeBYNfk)
And so off to the bathroom Pooh ran, crying into his orange juice as he went.
Yeah, I know there’s no crying in baseball…but what can you expect from a bear named Pooh?
Dad, I don’t know how I missed this but this was awesome man. Sorry for not commenting on this sooner. I hope to see more from you.
Clyde was very nervous about his job interview. He’d already thrown up his orange juice but decided maybe he shouldn’t twitter about it. His prior work history was filled with lawsuits filed by unhappy authorities. So what if he defrauded the government? He never claimed to be Winnie the Pooh. He ran back to the bathroom and got sick again as he thought of his head shot on the most wanted list at the post office. Who could believe all that left wing propaganda about Freddie and Fanny? He thought of his favorite song by Pink Floyd, Money, and whistled it as he sauntered out the door.
@Loran
Sounds like your Clyde had many rivers to cross.
Thanks for stopping by.
Winnie the Pooh woke up in the bathroom again. The cold tile had left a long crease in the plush on his right cheek. He could feel it with his stubby paws.
Another bad night. He kept the horrors at bay as long as he could with shot after shot of Barenjager and orange juice, but a bear could only dull his brains so long. His hangover was apocalyptic, a head-shot from a .357, scattering pieces of his very little brain all over the cold dirty tiles.
Kanga. Fucking Kanga, with her lazy half-closed eyes, her voice like buttered velvet, that bastard brat he’d never be able to acknowledge. He wanted to hate her, but he never could manage it. Not even on the worst nights.
“Rum tiddly tum tum tum . . . ” he croaked. The song reverberated through the bathroom like machine gun fire. Shit, shit, shit, bad idea. He pressed his palms tight against his eye sockets and waited for what was left of his brain to stop screaming.
He wondered how late he was to work. His prior work history hadn’t been much to recommend him, but somehow he’d talked himself into a gig transcribing propaganda from insurance companies for their bullshit lawsuits. Every day he wondered if this was the day the fucking suits would throw him out on his ass.
His phone was, improbably, in the bathtub. He checked Twitter to see if anyone had alerted the authorities. So far, so good. Maybe the night had gone better than he’d thought.
@sonia
Holy Bleep, Sonia! That was good. I didn’t know you dabbled into this type of writing!
Very nice indeed.
I think Sonia’s was the best contribution!
@Loran
Now if we can only get Sonia to do a voiceover mp3 of her challenge that would be the icing on the cake. (inside joke)
@Loran
that line of Sonia’s “her voice like buttered velvet” is probably the best descriptive bit of text I’ve seen all year.
Heh, thanks Shane, it was fun to revisit my fiction-writer past.
(Plus I’ve been watching an AWFUL LOT of Winnie the Pooh with Little Dude lately. It warps your brain a bit.)
Look for the audio book on Amazon soon.
If this were a contest, I think Sonia just knocked it outta the park.
@Todd
Sonia just did a literary Susan Boyle!
ha!
@Sonia
Just to clarify, Susan Boyle was the only one in 2009 to make this tough guy cry. Such talent! I’ve watched that video about 30 times, and I’ve already read your post about 10.
Utmost compliment to you Sonia.
Winnie the Pooh sat with his head hanging between his knees, the graffiti covered walls seeming to close in with his every labored breath. Gang propaganda apparently had no boundaries, as the bathroom in the “Hundred Acre Woods Bar and Grill” was a far sight from winning any cleanliness awards. The freshly added steaming pile in the corner, reminding him of last night’s imbibing of too much vodka and orange juice, didn’t help the sanitation cause any.
“Damn you Tigger”, Winnie thought to himself as he checked his Twitter feed. @Roo and @Piglet had been keeping Winnie informed of the status of the latest honeybee lawsuits. If only he had never met that bouncy SOB Tigger, then the authorities wouldn’t be searching for him and trying to take him down with a lethal head shot. His prior work history as a purveyor of fine honey products had once been spotless and was now completely tarnished by this involvement in the Christopher Robin abduction. As sure as this bear once sh** in the woods, his happy days of rhyme and carefree song were over.
Lisa. That was super! Had me laughing. Thanks for going back an doing this challenge. A contender for sure.
“Not feeling yourself?” she asked. I looked at her through bleary eyes. “I have that effect on people.” Her eyes were the color of autumn leaves. Her hair was auburn. All she was wearing was a Winnie the Pooh tee shirt. “I’m Song,” she said, handing me a translucent red capsule and a glass of orange juice. “This will help.”
She stood and crossed the room to a bureau. “Do you remember anything?” she asked over her shoulder.
“I remember… napkins?” My voice strained.
She laughed. “You did look ridiculous.” She pulled a hanging bag from the bureau.
“The bathroom is that way.” She handed me the hanging bag and nodded toward the adjacent hallway. “You should hurry. The Authorities will be here soon.” She motioned toward the door.
“I took the liberty of lifting your prior work history from Monster.com,” she said as we walked. “I have to say, you don’t seem to have done much writing, not professionally anyway.” She stopped at the bathroom door. “But you appear to be relatively active on Twitter and your weblog is up-to-date. I guess that is something. Nice head-shot, by the way. How old is that photo?
“Not that old,” I said.
“Still,” she motioned to the shower. “I’m not convinced you are the man for the job.”
“Not convinced? What are you talking about?”
“It’s the Cold Season, a time for weeding out the flat and otherwise half-baked characters of Shan Earth Ur,” she said frankly, “and you’ve been chosen.”
My brow knit.
“Don’t worry,” she continued, “You won’t be asked to flesh them out or round them out or anything of that sort, just to write them out, and of course, you’ll be expected to produce propaganda. Nothing too salacious, backstory and perhaps a few character sketches, you know, just enough detail on the eighty-sixed to protect us from any lawsuits.”
“Chosen? By whom?”
“Really? By whom? Who says that?” Her incredulous tone wasn’t lost on me, but she didn’t wait for me to respond.
“I don’t know who does the choosing,” she said. “I just do the recompiles.”
Troy, this story you are weaving is fantastic. I’m having a blast reading this stuff from you.
I like the subtleness of what you write. Like you including the reference to cold season and the napkins. Very clever indeed.
Piglet gulped down her orange juice as she dashed out of the bathroom. She shrugged on her best navy blue blazer, determined to look like one of the authorities. Lawsuits, courtroom drama, and serving stone cold justice–that was her game!
Glancing over her prior work history and head-shot on her resume, she grimaced. Winnie the Pooh was not exactly the best reference, and with all of the Pooh for President propaganda plastered all over the Hundred Acre Wood, she knew it made her seem like a glory hound.
The photo didn’t do her sex change much justice, either.
Resisting the urge to check her Twitter for the tenth time, she dashed out of her door for the interview, cursing the theme song that followed her.
Damn! That was super. Sex change for Piglet?! I really liked this one.
LOL, thank you!
I don’t know about you, but I prefer Orange juice in the morning with my paper. Coffee or tea just don’t do it for me. Well, this morning I saw a rather unusual article in the paper along with a head shot of Winnie the Pooh singing a song. I didn’t quite get it. I mean, here is one of our most beloved childhood friends involved with lawsuits from the authorities over his prior work history and the associated propaganda. It seems he even went so far as to use Twitter to hype sales of his new book about his relationship with Tigger and Piglet. How sad. Anyway, when I got up to go to the bathroom, I spilled my OJ all over the paper. And I really wanted to show it to Christopher Robbin. I really think He and Brer Rabbit need to know. Don’t you?
Very nice write, Cleve.
#2 in my catch-up
“Finally, a win for the good guys,” Brett mused.
There was little satisfaction, however, hearing the “Guilty” conviction. No amount of the killer’s suffering could erase the horror of a murdered child, one not far removed from Winnie the Pooh tales and the Tooth Fairy.
You would think with a prior work history spanning 25 years as a homicide detective, Brett’s hardened heart would not ache quite so much. But a cop, unshaken by the death of a child, had better turn in his badge.
A weary, lined face stared back from the bathroom mirror. Lack of sleep and eyes that saw too much did that. Try as he might to shut it out, the song kept playing over and over in his head.
Well, You know you make me want to shout
Kick my heals up and shout
Throw my hands up and shout
Throw my head back and shout
He had no idea what put it in his head. All he knew was that he wanted to do a whole lot more than shout. A head- shot blast, aimed at the killer, had a much better ring to it. But, then the authorities frowned on that kind of thing, especially in today’s world of lawsuits, targeted at those who serve and protect.
Those who pushed the propaganda that all cops were heartless bastards never saw the things that Brett had. If they experienced even a third of what he had, they might recognize his hard exterior as the defense mechanism against a crippling world of hurt.
Stepping into the shower, Brett let the cold, hard spray reduce the song to the distant twitter of sound. Routine was his salvation – a cold shower, a hit of orange juice, and he was ready to face another day.
@Kathy, this is going to be an excellent series. Please, write on!
The young mother looked at the blank application … dumb struck when she came to the “Prior Work History” section.
“Hummm…. Do you think I will get hired by filling this in with – Winnie the Pooh narrator, Orange Juice server, Lawsuits avoider especially when it comes to bathroom sharing, Head-shot diverter, Off-key song endurer?” she said softly with a snicker not wanting to wake the creatures who were finally asleep after an active day.
“Maybe I should ask the authorities if that would be considered Maternal Propaganda or acceptable instead of twittering my time away like hamster on its wheel.”
@Kathleen: What a fun read. Well done.