Today’s word are from Devin Jump. These words are indeed a challenge, Devin.
BET YOU CAN’T do this writing prompt. Take the 10 random words below and, in the comments, crush writer’s block by creating a cohesive, creative short story tying all of them together! And remember: after (if) 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 previous writing prompts, we BET YOU CAN’T do those, either.)
- Surreptitious
- Blithering
- Eagle
- Undulating
- Kibosh
- Lam
- Larynx
- Capitulate
- Seraphim
- Tan
NOTE: Don’t copy and paste from MS Word. Use a program like notepad that removes formatting or just type in the comment field itself. Also, finish your submission, THEN bold the words. Thanks. (And don’t forget to tweet this and share it with your friends.)
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Resources you should check out:
Thesis: Best Damn Theme on the Web
Collective Ink Well: Personalize Your Thesis Theme
Third Tribe Marketing: Marketing done the right way
Story Structure Demystified: Best damn writing book out there
{ 65 comments… read them below or add one }
I put some surreptitious on my pancakes. I coated them with a whole stick of blithering. It shouldn’t be eagle, considering how unhealthy the meal was.
I undulated my belt and ate the cakes like three little bears loving Kibosh.
Lam me tell you, those huge pieces barely got past the Larynx.
I took my time eating. So much so, for work I was capitulate.
I threw up, too, leaving a tangy taste in my mouth.
My celestial wife, Saraphim rolled her eyes.
I didn’t care. Bliss is ignorant.
I swear, Shane, you are such a ten-year-old boy!!!
@Ma: I told my wife, “I’ll act like a child—do anything—to make you laugh.” (to make myself laugh, too.)
People don’t smile enough.
Sean could always get out of trouble by making me laugh, no matter how pissed I was. He still does arm farts and tries to gross me out whenever possible!
@Ma: I love these tidbits of Sean. I’m sure he doesn’t but next email I send him will say “Hey Sean Arm-Fart Platt!”
Impressive…lol.
@Epae: Thanks. I enjoyed writing this one.
@Shane
I needed something silly, but am glad I read it after my submission, which was late today, as I couldn’t access the internet at lunch time today.
sHANE ; ;mADE ME GigGLE. wHO WAs THE ENTertAINER WHo GOT woRDS ALL SCeEWeD UP? cROSbY OR SOmeTHING LIkE ThaT
@A: Ha! Creativity in the comments. Love it.
NORM CROSBY!!! I used to love him…he always made me giggle.
Right!! Norm Crosby. I couldn’t remember the name. Thanks M
@Steve: Silly is good. Silly is me.
@Shane ~ snort! That was funny
@Kool Aid: Glad you enjoyed it.
@Shane–sometimes it’s scary where your mind goes-funny as all get out-but scary
@Cathy: What? You don’t like syrup!
omg, Shane, this is sooo goofy. Love it!
@Sara: I’m pro-goofy.
Wow! Did you check the expiration date on your orange juice…….?
No, really, that’s very creative. And funny.
@Sylvia: Thanks. I think I had the most fun with this challenge, more so than any other thus far.
Any blithering idiot with a tan and the innocent face of a seraphim who is on the lam from reality can try out to be a lifeguard. He might think that he can fuel his fantasies from high up on a sandy beached tower and with his eagle-eyed horniness see all the undulating half-naked girls for miles.. Stealing surreptitious glances at the underage girls will soon cause an angry father
to use major larynx power that will put the kibosh on his badly motivated career plans.
To capitulate, he is better off buying all the season sets of baywatch and watching them in the privacy of his living room where he will be able to fanasize in privacy with the benefit of rewind and pause.
@Ma: That was super. Real neat way to incorporate these difficult words. Write on.
@margaret – You really strung them together well there.
Margaret; You don’t have to put the kibosh on those horny, blithering, rewind and pause idiots until they become horny, blithering, rewind, pause and fast forward idiots.
(I don’t think I know what the hell I’m saying)
Nice write
I am amazed at your clever use of the indeed challenging words. Nice as always!!!
Thank you, Steve, A, and Sylvia…sometimes it just comes to me all at once.
A, I think perverts would rather rewind and pause than fast forward….that’s what they tell me, anyway,
@Margaret-fabulous-how you come up with it, I’ll never know, but I lovbe that you do!
No particular order:
The Encounter
As I made my surreptitious entry to the glade, I encountered, of all things, a small group of seraphim. One of them, though lacking a larynx, was blithering on, and undulating like the Loch Ness monster on speed.
After a little while of listening, I was able to make out the gist of what was being said. It appears she would not capitulate to his perverted demands for the paltry sum of twenty gold eagles, and was going to put the kibosh to his gratification if he did not fork over double the amount. Furthermore, if he didn’t she said she was going to skin him and tan his hide to make an overcoat for the winter.
I couldn’t stand by anymore and let that happen, so I grabbed her from behind, and a nice behind it was, pulling her off of the ugly troll. While the rest of the group was standing around stunned, I told the troll to go on the lam while he still could, which he quickly did.
After he was gone, I serviced all ten of the beautiful seraphim. I serviced them so well in fact, that I they each paid me a single gold eagle for the privilege, and they told me to stop by again and they would bring their friends and everyone would pay two gold eagles.
Moral:
Even if you are perceived as being very good, you can still end up doing bad things.
By the way, the troll and I have pulled this off several times now in different glades. You just have to love this enchanted forest.
@Steve: YOU DEVIL-DOG YOU!
THAT was your best one. Too funny. Well done.
@Shane – Thanks those words just sent me to fantasy land for my ideas.
@Devon – Thanks for the words, it was fun working them into a story.
“Devin” thanks
Really great. Sounds like someone was undulating on Viagra. Was that troll the lifeguard in Margarets piece?
BRILLIANT!!!
I don’t even know what to say, Steve……Is this a past life story?
fun!!
@sefeug–OMG! Laughing MA off!
Mr. Macmillan #3
While Mr. Macmillan was sleeping he often found himself imagining to be an eagle. Although the idea of imagining oneself as a creature is not in and of itself odd it was the detail of which his dreams always contained that was remarkable. Mr. Macmillan would soon discover in and outside of sleep that he was a very special individual. In the air he soared higher above the clouds than any other creature, including those of his kind, the flutter of his wings for instance was very powerful undulating the sky itself. He reflected on where it was he was leaving from and going to and learned that he was on the lam from a very dark conniving creature, and seeking out solace in the cherubim and seraphim above. Mr. Macmillan was not sure why he led such a surreptitious life, nor why his own life had been shrouded from his awareness. Some details would insinuate that Mr. Macmillan had subconsciously done these things in order to protect himself, the truth was nonetheless still hidden. In order to further decipher the meaning of his dream Mr. Macmillan decided to put the kibosh on the current first person perspective of the flying creature, while allowing it to still happen for the purpose of analysis. As he stepped outside of himself he was required to capitulate his majestic role, and began to see the bird as if it were on a movie screen, but yet much more life-like and realistic. He discovered that his own heart very much associated with the bird even from this new perspective, and he couldn’t understand why his own complexion was so foreign. Mr. Macmillan was a tall man, not so tall that he was a social anomaly but rather a height of authority. He did not have the feathers that he often dreamt of having but rather a bold tan appearance that spoke both to a non-explicit origin and comfortable familiarity to people of all kinds. He was often annoyed at the blithering comments made of those around himself, however he was a very empathic and caring person. Mr. Macmillan also had a strange mark on his throat as if to suggest that he had at one time or another gone through a reconstructive enhancement of the larynx. All details of which, contained the likelihood of confounding any conclusions one would make of the man. He was indeed convincing himself as he watched himself as a bird that life really should be more like this, that our relationship with the world around us should be just what he saw, impacting. He saw the influence of the waves created by the force of his wings, and it amazed him. As he thought he heard his own words as if they were being spoken to him “such fascinating things could not just be fantasy, there has to be some meaning behind it all, what use would it be otherwise.”
Once again Mr. Macmillan drifted off into an even deeper sleep.
-DR JUMP
Wow! Should you be looking for an agent to represent you and what will surely be your novel?
Are you an agent?
@Devin-never in a million years would I have come up with something so great with those words of yours-really well done!
Fantastic; Reminds me of the novella, “Jonathan Livingston Seagull.” Really, really enjoyed.
Creepy I’ve never read it but I see what you mean…
The Seraphim wanted to put the kibosh on a real-estate deal to erect a red light reception temple, on an adjacent heavenly cloud, owned by seventy two tan, blithering, surreptitious, burka clad virgins with ruptured hymens and larynxes. The Seraphim offered another building site further away. Unfortunately, the seventy two tan, blithering, surreptitious, burka clad virgins with ruptured hymens and larynxes would not capitulate.
The Seraphim lammed into the seventy two tan, blithering, surreptitious, burka clad virgins with ruptured hymens and larynxes with the talons of an eagle, saying, “Okay, you bitches, try to build something on this.” With the pointing of her middle finger, the adjacent heavenly cloud started undulating.
@A ~ Hmmm…. that sounds a bit… political. Great use of the words!
@A: What a super creative way to tie into current events in a provocatively funny way.
Carry on.
@A-you sly dog-loved it! Very creative.
David Johnson worked as a firefighter at the local Air National Guard base. It was normally a low-key kind of job consisting mostly of training, equipment maintenance and the occasional school tour. There weren’t too many fires at the base or at the airport, which was where the base was located. The Air Force planes shared the runways and tower of the commercial airfield so even though their planes weren’t always in the sky, there were many flights taking off and landing nearby. David always thought being a firefighter was the best job ever, but secretly, he hoped to never have to fight a fire. Jet fuel burns at a much higher temperature than a house fire.
On the day of the “event,” as it’s now being called, he and his coworkers were cleaning one of the big fire trucks. It was a massive truck capable of holding thousands of gallons of water, with three sets of tires, each six feet tall. David wasn’t really focused on washing; he was surreptitiously watching an eagle flying nearby, undulating on the thermal air rising from the concrete, daydreaming about what it would be like to fly.
“Hey, who turned off the hose!” shouted Brian Hodges, another firefighter working nearby, effectively putting the kibosh on David’s daydream. David turned to look and noticed all the water hoses had quit. So had the radio they had been listening to. The hanger bay doors were all open and David glanced inside where the trucks were housed and noticed that the fluorescent bulbs were still glowing even though it seemed the power everywhere was out. What the hell? he thought, instinctively touching the seraphim charm that rested just below his larynx.
He glanced over at Brian to ask him a question, when he noticed that Brian was gazing at the runway and his tan face had gone sharply pale. In the same instant, he heard a plane crashing onto the far end of the runway. It had just taken off mere seconds ago and now it was now bouncing across the ground, it’s landing gear ripping apart with the velocity of the plane’s flight carrying it forward, the body of the plane lamming the earth as though it were a rug that needed cleaning.
Both men turned, yelling for their coworkers, and ran for their uniforms. They had 30 seconds to get the custom-made silver suits on but training, and good-natured contests, had trimmed the time down to about 20 seconds. They ran to the truck they had been cleaning, settling in to their assigned positions and waited for Brian to start the truck. Nothing happened. Moving rapid-fire, the men dispersed to the other fire trucks trying different ignitions. Nothing happened. David glanced around, his training capitulating to blithering fear as he realized they couldn’t get to the downed plane to help.
@Kool Aid: Well done Kool Aid. You just reminded me of one of my favorite books of all time…Alas Babylon. If you haven’t read it, GET IT!
I’m loving this tale you weave.
Well done!
@Kool Aid–continuous cool…loving it.
Jake glanced surreptitiously around the room. With his hands bound at the wrist behind him there was no way to wield a weapon. What he really needed was a quick way to free himself from what felt like thick plastic flex-cuffs. Once upon a time he might have been able to muscle his way out, but he was softer now. Nothing sufficiently sharp came to his attention. Of course even the keenest knife would be hard to use.
“You take me for a blithering idiot?” Welborn’s voice was laced with venom. “I had my men clear the room of anything you might find useful. Now answer my question. What makes you think we failed?”
It took a fair amount of self control, but Jake cracked a smile. “Oh I didn’t mean you failed at your mission. I mean you failed to cover up who was really behind it. Most people bought the atheist cover story. It was easy enough bait for the fish to swallow. Still a few eagle-eyed people saw enough holes in the official reports to stir the pot.”
“Conspiracy theorists. Crackpots. No one actually believed them.”
Jake tried to shrug, his shoulder muscles undulating under his shirt. “Someone did. Several someone’s in fact. You put the kibosh on the careers of a number of very influential people who were in agreement with the crackpots, including one Senator Lam.”
The mention of the Chinese-American politician seemed to have an adverse affect on the President. His face reddened and shook like he had something caught in his larynx. Finally he spit the words out. “That son of a bitch didn’t know when to capitulate. His counterparts…” Welborn stopped, realizing that perhaps he had said too much.
This time Jake’s smile was genuine. He had one more important card to play now that he knew his words were striking the right chords. “I’ll finish that for you. ‘His counterparts in Project Seraphim knew when to keep quiet’.”
The president took several rapid steps forward, bringing his gun back as he did.
Jake fell to his side and lashed out with both feet catching the approaching man at the knee. A loud crack let him know that at least one broken bone resulted from the countered momentum.
President Welborn fell like he’d been poleaxed. The gun didn’t go far on the thick tan carpet and lay equidistant from the two prone men.
@Scott: What a story! What an episode! Well done, and one hell of a way to end it! Write on…and soon.
Thanks! I can’t wait to find out where it’s going.
@Scott-love the cliffhanger-can’t wait for the next submission.
Theirs was a surreptitious relationship. It started with chance encounters where he acted like a blithering idiot, at least in Rob’s mind.
Strolling past a rusted-out Eagle Talon that her neighbor owned, Rob bounded up the stairs to Rebecca’s front door. Giving the door a quick rap, he smiled as Rebecca gave him that sexy, sweet smile.
“What are you selling?”
“Anything you’re buying.”
Grabbing him by his necktie, Rebecca pulled Rob into a hot, lingering kiss. His heart pounded as Rebecca’s slow undulating body put him into overdrive.
Pulling back, Rob moaned into her sweet mouth, “We better put the kibosh on this dance if we want to survive the night.”
“Survival’s so overrated,” she smiled.
Taking his hand, she led him into the kitchen where he breathed in an aromatic embrace of sensuality. He was so glad to be on the lam from his own kitchen where the only aroma was week-old garbage.
Baby, you’re killing me,” he breathed in deeply.
“Not yet.”
Rob’s throat tightened as though she grabbed him by his larynx. How had he gotten so lucky? There was no sense fighting it. He should just capitulate to love.
“Why don’t you go put on some music while I finish cooking?”
“Any requests?”
“Surprise me.”
God, those eyes. Rob walked over to her collection of DVDs and music CDs.
“Where’d you get this?” Rob asked, picking up a DVD of the western Seraphim Falls. It seemed an odd choice for Rebecca.
Turning from the stove, Rebecca dropped the large spoon on the floor.
Visibly paling beneath her summer tan, she whispered, “Where did you find that?”
@Cathy: Damn you. Cathy! I must know more.
@Shane–buwahaha-my job is done.
Holy cow, what awesome words!
“What are you blithering about?” demanded Eagle haughtily, his larynx sounding stuffy and cobwebbed.
“I, that is, well, sire,” the small tan monkey squeaked, his tale undulating anxiously.
“Out with it! Before I lam you with my mighty beak!”
“Of course, sire. The Seraphim have invaded the jungle. They–they are on their way here this moment!” The monkey heaved, bowed as deeply as the branch would allow, and gave a scared, surreptitious glance at the bird’s reaction.
Oddly enough, the old eagle was calm. “Very well. Contact the rhinoceros and the lion. Have them gather at the Old Tree to await my instructions.”
The monkey gratefully nodded and scampered off, leaving the old bird in deep thought.
If his heavily armed beasts could not put the kibosh on the winged serpents, he feared they would have no choice but to capitulate to the celestial invaders.
@Sara: That was a nice, neat write. I enjoyed that one. Write on.
Thank you Shane!
@Sara–this is fabulous! Love the creativity.
Thank you, Cathy!
ODE
In the dream your wings were like an eagle’s
Undulating beneath me as we stole
away
On the lam from offices and retail outlets and screeching traffic
From blithering idiots inhabiting their fake tans
Prattling on
b-tooth headsets affixed
about their harshly meaningless days.
I stole a surreptitious glance at you
Now a sleek cheetah, still between my legs
Waiting to pounce on your prey
Ah, that terribly public gazelle
She didn’t sense you until we’d leapt upon her larynx
The blood ran from your soft beard, over your
magnificent chest
After the kill.
The whole world won’t capitulate so easily
as one gentlelady
gently
trying to keep you moving in the right direction
toward the herd
Can’t put the kibosh on the terrible public.
Perhaps the intense communion with peace that we seek is not to be found
perhaps we can not wrap the stole of solitude around us both
except in dreams
where you are my seraphim
singing
dark, aching hosannas
And I am your ready
muse.
@Kelly: PERFECTION!
Aw, shucks, Shane, thanks. Glad you liked it. I get a big kick out of doing poems here. Like I’m stretching old unused muscles for these challanges.