Yes, this is filled with whisky

Yes, this is filled with whisky

Wednesday, August 18, 2010

A writing contest that will knock your sox clean off!

I've mentioned how much I adore Matthew Frederick's book 101 Things I Learned in Architecture School before. I carry a copy of it with me for when I need a quick pickmeup of beautiful and functional; something that makes me happy just to hold and read.

I've urged you to buy the book till I'm blue in the face

And now! GREAT news!

I've got copies of the two NEW books in the series 101 Things I Learned in Film School and 101 Things I Learned in Business School. If you're thinking "I'm a writer, I don't need that" you're dead wrong.

Some of the best writing about writing is in the book on film.

Some of the best writing about publishing is in the book on business.

Here's your chance to win BOTH!

Writing contest!

In 100 words or less tell me a story. Include the following words:


The contest starts now (12:01am Thursday 8/19) and runs almost 48 hours (11:59pm Friday 8/20) All times are based on EST-Eastern Shark Time.

Post in the comments column of this blog post.

One entry per person.
You can delete your first entry and take a mulligan if you think you need to.



Mary said...

We always cheered the honeywagon as it rumbled through fire camp. We were on the night shift outside of Fairbanks, digging line in a cloud of mosquitoes, trying to day sleep in a tent baked to a fever high. The timing of the truck was pivotal. There was so much at stake after a sixteen hour shift. It was a slice of heaven to enter a potty with a newly full bowl of sweet blue fluid, a place to rest our bones while we contemplated the flaws that had driven us to choose this crazy way of spending a summer.

Eric said...

Your average honeywagon has fatal flaws when it comes to a getaway vehicle. But the ease of stealing the pivotal stake I needed for my Subway franchise in Fairbank, Iowa, had blurred my thinking. I should have known I’d have broken down when I hit that rut near the tracks and the tank started sloshing. Now I’m cleaning toilets in Joliet.

Ian said...

Call to Revolution
by Ian Thomas Healy

“How’s it coming, Pope?” Gar took his eyes off the twisting canyons of the planet Fairbank long enough to check his copilot’s progress with the transmitter.

“I'm trying, Gar.”

“Hurry up.” Gar stood the Honeywagon on its portside to clear a notch. The pursuing fighters had to throttle back. “There's too much at stake. This broadcast is pivotal to the Revolution.”

Frustrated, Pope punched the console. “Too many flaws in the crystalcomp, Gar. We’re—look out!”

Gar glanced up to see a canyon wall approaching far too fast.

The Revolution, it seemed, would not be televised.

Deborah said...

Here you go. 95 Words...

"If you think I'm hitching my honeywagon to your ragged rope, you're as stupid as you think I am."

"Aw, come on, honeybear, Fairbank has its flaws, sure, but it's pivotal we stake our claim while the iron's hot."

"Ain't nothin' hot in this freezin' hell hole except the air spewing from your ugly mouth."

"Aw, honeybear, I really wish you hadn't gone and said that, not when I'm holding this rope, ragged as it is."

"What are you—ah—gah—gahk—"

"Goodbye, honeybear. I'm gonna miss riding your sweet wagon. I truly am."

A. J. Spindle said...

“Hey, can you help me move the honeywagon? It’s starting to smell,” I asked Josh as he walked past the barn.

He shook his head. “You can’t do anything yourself, can you?”

“Everyone has their flaws.” I shrugged.

“What do you need it for anyway?”

“It will play a pivotal role in my prank on Susie Fairbank.” I smiled and his jaw dropped.

“Are you serious?”

“If you won’t help me then move. I’ve got to go stake out her bedroom so I’ll be ready when she walks in the door.” I turned and ran upstairs to wait.

Inspired Training said...

I LOVED the film school book too - glad to see you raving about it! I will have to get the others soon.

Karen said...

She would never have to marry. FairBank loan victoriously in hand, she commanded the Honeywagon. She had customers, but Sir Stake had a plan. The Honeywagon’s pivotal flaw: non-existent security. Dizzy with love for her, he stabbed the wagon's tank. Honey oozed and sputtered into the street. Her goods were lost! Her wagon, ruined! Her loan, due! Yes, she was in a sticky situation. Sir Stake knelt before her, ring held high. She eyed her honey, viscous and thick. She stepped toward him. Sir Stake had a ring, but she had a plan. She would never marry.

Katt said...

Honeywagon, a bay filly by Pivotal, out of Flaws Affair, banked another stake win today at Saratoga.

Michelle said...

George’s rickety honeywagon barreled through the eerily vacant streets of Fairbank. It was a pivotal day for him – tonight he’d get the promotion he was waiting for. There was a lot at stake.

George decided to ask Sue Ellen to marry him. Finally the odorous occupation was off his long list of flaws.

Yes, he thought, wiping the stinging sweat from his eyes, tonight's the night.

He didn’t hear the crackling snap of the wheel breaking away. Moments later he was pinned beneath the toppled cart, life slipping away and his only thought was, ‘Shucks, the ring is gonna smell!’

JDuncan said...

"Wait. Did you say Fairbank went into the Honeywagon?"

Milicent shrugged, twisting a strand of purple hair around her finger. "Never said the plan didn't have flaws."

Jake rubbed his face with both hands. "He doesn't know what's at stake here. This is a pivotal time."

"Jake, baby, it's just your agent. What could Fairbank possibly do?"

The back of the Honeywagon flew open with a bang, bounced back and knocked Fairbank to the asphalt. He rebounded, hopped back to his feet, pulling his jeans back over his hips.

Jake groaned. "What've you done, Banks?"

"Gin, baby!"

Regan said...

Eliza Fairbank had a sizeable stake in the Hollywood honeywagon business. This was not something she mentioned at parties or formal dinners. For all of her flaws—and, as her ex-husbands could attest, she had many—she was usually dignified. It was at a formal dinner party that she met Ian Carver, the famous director and producer.

“You’re one of the Connecticut Fairbanks, aren’t you?” he said.


“I always wondered what people like you do with all that money.”

This was one of those pivotal moments in life, she decided. “I invested in honeywagons.”

It was the right answer.

Ruthanne Reid said...

"The honeywagon is leaking."

"Are you serious? Now? Diva South's almost here!"

"There's a hole - "

"Can't you cover it up with dirt or something?" The fairbank – the whole damn con – would fall to pieces if this thing was already broke. "Flaws or not, the stake's too high to quit now. We just got to make her think it's supposed to work that way."

He looks at me funny. "A pivotal leak?"

"Yeah. We can pull it off." And we did, and that's how our busted toilet became the John of the South.

Ju Dimello said...


The ensuing static grated Josh’s eardrums. He shook the cellular phone, glancing around the empty street. Did the shadows move?

“Freaking great.”

“Now you’re loud and clear. What’s up?”

“I’m near the honeywagon and something isn’t right.”

“Rub some vicks underneath your nose and all flaws would vanish. Trust me.”

He sighed. “The stench—I don’t know, seems different.”

“Listen, buddy. You caught me at a.. um, pivotal moment. I’ll call you back.”

Josh snapped the phone shut. Cold fingers trailed on his neck and he whirled. The stake fell from his hands with a loud clatter.

Linda Leszczuk said...

“You want me to get the wagon, Honey?”

“I told you, don’t call me Honey! You’ve got to focus. There’s a lot at stake here.”

“Hey, you’re not so perfect. You’ve got plenty of flaws, you know.”

“Fine. I’ve got flaws. But not letting Fairbank know we’re together is a pivotal part of this con. So no Honey’s until he’s gone. Now get ready.

“Mr. Fairbank, this woman says she’s got some genuine tribal relics here. Show him, Ma’am.”

“They’re right here in this wagon, Honey. I mean, they’re…they’re in this… honeywagon. Yeah, that’s it. Honeywagon.”

“Mr. Fairbank, wait. Wait!”

C.R. Evers said...

“Sir,” the paralegal scratched her neck. “There are contractual flaws.”

“Nonsense!” Attorney, Notzo Fairbank, Esq. licked syrup from his first before slamming it on his maple desk.

“Our client, P. Bear, requests a honeywagon. Perhaps we’ve misunderstood his intentions?”

“This is a pivotal case. I know what ‘s at stake!” The lawyer’s amber eyes stung sharper than a bee. “If Mr. P. Bear, is asking for a honeywagon as retribution from C. Robbins, what else shall we request?”

“I think, sir,” said the paralegal. “That you’re focus centers more on the initial “P” as opposed to the surname, “Bear.”

Taffy said...

“Hey, honeywagon,” he drawled.
She turned so he wouldn’t see the flaws.
“Hi, yourself.” If he knew what he had done to her he wouldn’t come back and she needed that key.
She pulled strands of hair over her forehead and left eye. Today was pivotal to her plan.
“That tree is leaning again. Looks like someone’s been digging under it. Do you want me to stake it?”
She spun around. Did he know?
His eyes narrowed as he studied her face. He reached toward her, fingers inches from her face.
“Fairbank! Time to roll.” He didn't move. "Why?"

coffeelvnmom said...

If I'd known honeywagon meant toilets, I wouldn't have gushed about it to perfect strangers.

"Did you hear about the honeywagon?"

"I can't wait to check the honeywagon out."

“What a novel idea, having a honeywagon at this event!”

Talking non-stop to strangers. It’s one of my biggest flaws.

And now I'm sitting here, at Fairbank International’s annual gala, completely embarrassed. At THE most pivotal moment of my life.

My reputation is at stake, people. No one wants their up and coming VP excited about refuse!

Did I mention one of Fairbank’s biggest clients is the company that manufactures Maalox?

thegracefuldoe said...

"Hey Pete, here comes the honeywagon." Joe sniggered as the wagon rumbled past.
"I never got why they call it that," I said, gagging.
"Somethin' to do with the amber liquid." Joe sniggered again.
"What's it doin' in Fairbank anyway?"
Joe shrugged. "I saw 'em with stakes and hammers down Patterson's field. Reckon the circus is comin' to town."
There hadn't been a circus in Fairbank for years. I knew my pop would pick flaws in why they shouldn't be allowed, but I decided in that moment it was a pivotal event and I was going no matter what.

Wendy Qualls said...

“That state fair_ban_killed the excitement. Stupid rules.” Mae shuffles her feet dejectedly.

“Yeah, I’m sick of_laws discriminating against dogs,” I agree, mostly just to have something to say.

I pivot_a_little to see the line of dogs tied to the fence. Dogs_take a bright view of things, usually, but most of them look miserable in the heat. I see one honey_wagon her tail down at the end, but she’s the only cheerful one.

“People shouldn’t bring dogs, just to leave them outside,” Mae mutters.


We stand a while.

“So wanna get funnel cakes?”

Philip King said...

Captain Paul Toros patted Honeywagon’s flank from his turret seat. The pivotal battle of Fairbank was deadlocked, riflemen on both sides blazing away. It was time to show what his tank could do.
“Forward!” he shouted to the driver.
Honeywagon rumbled forward sedately. Protecting the enemy flank were rows of sharpened stakes, but Toros had confidence in his armoured beast. Honeywagon smashed through the first row easily. A snapped stake jammed the right tread. The flaws in his plan abruptly became clear as Honeywagon ground to a halt.
The last thing Toros saw was the machine gun muzzle open fire.

Malin said...

“Fairbank, you have no idea what’s on stake here.”
“Oh, I guess this is some sort of pivotal moment then?”
“Has it anything to do with Honeywagon?”
“Your lying has some serious flaws. Like facial expression and voice. Haven’t you watched Lie To Me? Alright, how about any film including spies or interrogation?”
“This isn’t fiction, it’s business.”
“You numb me with your wit.”
“Leave. I’m waiting for someone.”
“No kidding, Sherlock. Trouble is, I got here first, and my gun is aimed at your guts. Shocked? I bet. See, like in school, I play with everyone.”

Steve Ulfelder said...

"Honeywagon" is such a great word. It reminds me of another. During a school field trip to Boston's Museum of Fine Arts (35 years ago? Yeesh), we stopped in the Grecian section to see a recently procured urn the museum was especially proud of. Naturally, kids wanted to know how much the museum paid for the urn. X hundred thousand dollars, the guide said - a staggering sum back then.

One of the chaperones, the father of my best friend, was not impressed. "X hundred thousand dollars?" he said. "It looks like a thunderjug to me."

Rachael Harrie said...

Honeywagon Fairbank had a pivotal role in the continuing battle. As the new assistant to Janet Reid, Literary Agent, she was the first line of defense in the fight against query flaws.

The dreaded AgentAddressAtTheTopOfAnEmail Monster stood before her, a being which could strike dread in Query Shark’s heart. The battleground was set. The stakes were high. It was time to wield the form rejection in the interests of agent sanity and for the betterment of the world as a whole.

But wait. The dreaded AgentReidSalutation Monster was closing in. There was only one thing to do.

Delete. Delete. Delete.

Fortuna said...

His mallet drove in the last stake. He stepped back, ignoring any flaws in the landscape, the most prominent being the man with the honeywagon draining the old septic tank, and imagined the view from his upper deck. He’d become a bit anal over finalizing the placement of his home, but it was a pivotal point in the project. He had to get it right. Just then, his phone rang. His agent from Fairbank was calling. Had his deal gone through? Would his book about law school be the next 101 things I learned book?

Cathryn Bonica, author said...

Jud cracked the whip in the air over the mule's head, urging the animal to move the honey wagon along before the flies swarmed again. Betsy sat silent next to him, staring, studying his flaws. It unnerved him.

She knew their livelihood was at stake. The drought had taken most of their crops. They'd be lucky to survive the winter. Didn't she know how pivotal this trip to town was for them both? All they had for trade was the load of manure. Would they find a fair bank willing to loan them enough money to save their farm?

Downith said...

“Mom, I have my flaws, but basically I’m a good kid, right?”

Jack’s mom emerged from the honeywagon. “Yeeesss.”

“So can you lend me 500 bucks?”

“Are you crazy? And even if I wanted to, how could I when the . . .”

Jack interrupted his mother.

“It’s not fair!”

“. . . bank is closed.”

Jack looked at her in disbelief.

“Mom, I know you’re a witch about to be burned at the stake and all and I get that staying in character is like pivotal to your technique, but here in the real world we have cash machines.

Benjamin said...

(Hi Janet, I never realised how challenging these little stories can be! Here's my go.)

Douglas checked his handiwork. He had too much at stake to fail. Again.

And now the pivotal moment had arrived. As Janice rounded the corner, he flung out his arms. "Surprise!"

Behind him was parked his new honeywagon, a pleasant warmth radiating from the door. He smiled. "Just what you wanted, right?"

Then Douglas heard the thud. That familiar sinking feeling in his stomach was now joined by an uncomfortable wetness down his back. He hadn't forseen the flaws of heating a portable toilet.

Janice sighed. "Oh, Douglas Fairbank. I said I wanted to go somewhere warm for our honeymoon."

wry wryter said...

Y’all know s--- happens. I been singin about tough times my entire life. From Scranton to Fairbank, country music bleedin from your dashboard is pivotal darlin; it can set your mood and take you back, it can save your day or destroy it.

I live in a big house on a hill overlookin the prettiest valley you ever seen, so I gotta a stake in your flaws. Your lovin my voice brought me riches honey but I ain’t gotta enough to pay for what I got now, heartache.
My latest:
She got the Mercedes, I got the Honeywagon Blues.

gbervik said...

“Hey Fairbank! Why the hell is there a portable toilet in my office? You know this is a pivotal meeting with a huge potential client. There’s a lot at stake! We have to look like we’re thriving in this economy. We can’t have any flaws! I said I wanted our office to have all the trappings of wealth. I said to hire anything you have to. I said I wanted money waggin’ in his face!”

“Oh. I thought you said ‘honeywagon’.”

Joseph L. Selby said...

President Fairbank watched the first sliver of morning appear over the Potomac.

“Without China, North Korea won't commit,” his NSC briefer said.

“We need these seven-way talks,” Fairbank said. “We need all the stakeholders at the table.”

The talking heads cited John Fairbank's lack of global experience as one of his greatest flaws during the campaign, and now an international summit proved the most pivotal of his administration.

“Right. Let's make some calls. I'm headed to the oval.”

A secret service agent followed. He lifted his wrist to his mouth. “Honeywagon is on the move.”

LaylaF said...

“Hey, Melissa...did you see that sign we just passed?”

“No” Melissa responded, yawning from the long drive.

“It said, Fairbank! Isn’t that a ghost town? Man, the last thing I want now is to be stuck in a friggin’ ghost town in the middle of friggin’ Arizona at two in the friggin’ morning!”

“Don’t sweat it.” Melissa made a pivotal decision. “I may have a few flaws, but one thing is for sure, I have too much at stake to let us get stuck in some honeywagon town with those cops breathing down our necks.”

Izzy said...

"John! Get out here!" Sally shouted, slapping her thigh's cellulite. It sounded like an author face-planting a manuscript.

"Mo-om! I'm in the honeywagon!" came John's muffled response.

"John Fairbank, I told you to get out here! This is pivotal!" She shook her head, muttering about his flaws.

There was a flushing noise, and John huffed out, his fat cells sagging around him. "What did you wa-ant?"

Sally thrust a wooden cross into his hands. "There's a vampire screwing around in Forks. Go stake him."

"But, Mo-om! I'm tired!"

"I said, go stake him, or millions of girls will be converted into mindless fans!"

He snorted. "Yeah, right."

Mama Bear said...

When the bark alarm sounded, Scott Terrier knew this was a pivotal moment—one that would make or break his superhero career. He would stake his fur-lined cape on it. He started for the back door, loosening his tie, and his wife pleaded, “Keep an eye out for Animal Control this time, Honey.”

“Wag on!” he yelled as he transformed into the quadruped Terrier Man and darted into the yard.

Mrs. Terrier chuckled at her husband’s now-commonplace transformation. Even heroes have flaws, she reasoned. She shrugged: To be fair, bank on the quiet ones to save the day.

mcwhittle said...

Perhaps I just need to hire a Honeywagon, flush this manuscript so to speak, since my editor seems to think it's crap. Three times she has returned it to me for rewrites; her undulating red pencil marks in the margins stating my story is too dark, has too many flaws and it's pivotal point, the murder, just too implausible. It's her repetition and credibility as an agent at stake , she maintains. Well piffle, I don't care. It's writer's prerogative and if I change history a tad on the Fairbanks/Pickford love tryst of the Flapper era, we'll classify it fiction, dammit.

Dan said...

“Poopsie” Honeywagon got off the train in Fairbank, opting to hire a wagon to take her to Tombstone. She knew Wyatt would be waiting at the Tombstone Station but she decided to surprise him by greeting him in his room.

Wyatt “won” her when Pa put her up as his stake in a game of faro at the Oriental. She was obliged to be his “housekeeper” for a year. Her intentions were more ambitious.

Using miner’s dust as make-up to cover her superficial flaws, she posed in the room’s darkest corner.

The pivotal moment came. The gunshot proved fatal.

Latoya Alloway said...

“What’s a honeywagon?”
“IDK but apparently it’s pivotal in Fairbank, Alaska.”
“It’s pivotal in Fairbank, Alaska.”
“It’s Fairbanks, Alaska.”
“Stop pointing out my flaws. Whose hair-brained idea was it to take a 1980 Volvo up north?!.......There’s a lot at stake here. This guy pays $100 to put some shit in a honeywagon. Easy money.”
They knock. A man answers, gives them a good once over and shows them outback. “Start here.”
They look at each other. “Start where?”
“You boys ever work on a farm?”
They look at each other again. “No.”
“Put the manure in this honeywagon.”

Ulysses said...

Sheila and I staggered off the Honeywagon, a combination tunnel of love, centrifuge and hayride. I tripped over a tent stake.

"Dizzy? That couldn't have been more than a six," she said.

I sat down. "It had its flaws, but you screamed at the first drop. That makes it at least an eight."

We glared at each other. It was a pivotal moment, and I felt our future turning on it.

She looked away first. "Go again?"

"I'm out of money."

"We'll hit the fair bank machine and ride the Gutwrencher on the way back."

After that, we held hands.

Sarah W said...

From day one, Geronimo Higgley, Oscar-winning director, encountered the flaws in letting the producer's cheapskate brother-in-law scout the shoot for his latest musical comedy, The Eternal Prison.

There was one honeywagon available in Fairbank, Iowa, and that was in a terminal state.

Higgley's reputation was at stake here---didn't the man have any brains?

While filming the pivotal scene---Cate’s touching aria, “Same Shit, Different Day,” Higgley’s gut rumbled and he feared a breach.

It was his first contact with the honeywagon and as the seat gave way beneath him, he went numb, knowing he was truly without a paddle.

Rachel Menard said...

“I call her Honeywagon.” He patted the top of the black Camaro with a look of pride in his eyes. “Because she’s good at gettin’ the honeys.”

“I got it,” I said. It could’ve been worse. He could’ve named it the Shaggin’ Wagon. I peered through the window and found more flaws with the car besides its name.

This was supposed to be a pivotal moment in my life. I was finally leaving my hometown of Fairbank to act in Los Angeles. My entire life was at stake, and I was entrusting it to Gideon McPhee and the Honeywagon.

Patrick DiOrio said...

I bide my time. Waiting for the right moment. When it comes I explode from beneath the noisome dung hauled by the honeywagon, sharped wooden stake in hand. I am upon the bloodsucking vampire before he reacts and drive the stake home. He clutches at it, a Banshee wail ululating across the frozen river, Fairbank. The creature lays dead. A pivotal moment, but now I realize its flaws: the cry alerts his coven. They come.

Jonathan said...

Honeywagon Hughes' eyes glazed at "...absolutely pivotal. However, don't forget..."

He'd have to remember to give Fairbank a slap next time they met for setting this freak up. Should he make some polite excuse, run, or just grin and bear it?

"...a steak." Hughes perked up. No, he corrected himself, she was blathering about something being "at stake". Why did he agree to a vegetarian restaurant?

Sure, Hughes mulled, he had his flaws, he'd done bad stuff, if you're into morals I guess. But a date with a writer. Worse, a wannabe writer. What had he done to deserve that?

Mikey said...

Every writer knows the most pivotal flaw that one can make is to write a story sentence by sentence. For instance, I could have begun "Bob didn't really know what a honeywagon was, but he knew it would have to do". Do for what? What's at stake? And how does a city boy from New York learn to drive a honeywagon? Bob would know just as much as I would about where that honeywagon was going. Unfortunately, neither us had been to Fairbank before. And neither of us saw that cliff up ahead.

BDA said...

The Honeywagon rolled slowly back and forth with the tide. Worthington Thomas Fairbank, cursed by thoughtless parents to a life without monogrammed items, braced himself against the swaying and swung as hard as he could, driving a wooden stake with a gleaming maul. One of the pivotal flaws in his logic occurred to him moments later. He wondered why his fiancĂ©e Estelle Hertz, now skewered, hadn’t disintegrated in the sunshine. Might explain her last words, “Untie me you psychopath, I like garlic too much to be a vampire!” Until now, he’d believed it was because she was an Italian vampire…

Shakespeare said...

“How many?” Mick asked.

“Two. Behind the honeywagon,” I whispered.

Mick shivered. “I ain’t going near that.”

“Afraid it’ll leak?” I risked a laugh. One of my many flaws—I couldn’t stay serious.

“Will you shut up?” Mick hissed.

I nodded, rushing in first, gold-leafed stake tucked. The gold dissolved in the first goblin’s chest, killing him instantly.

Mick wasn’t so lucky. In a pivotal miss-stake, Mick opened a huge gash in the metal. And urine wouldn’t kill a goblin.

“You let him get away!” I spit.

Mick just stood there, revolted. Not a dull night in Fairbank, Iowa.

Tiffany L. Berryman said...

“We all have flaws. But there is too much at stake. Don’t act surprised now. Your guilt games won’t work on me this time.”

His face indicated that moving away to Fairbank was motivated by the sort of selfishness one can never disguise. Had we grown apart in every way possible or was I the one who had changed? Either way, I wasn’t about to sugarcoat this pivotal moment by sending him on his way in a honeywagon of justification.

Another failed relationship to write about. “At least the words know how to stick and stay.”

Robobear said...

July 23rd, 1883
Fairbank, Iowa

My Dear Louise,

I hope this letter reaches you in good health. My own health is improving. The newly installed magistrate ordered honeywagons to take refuse away from the settlement. Among his many flaws, he does not neglect his people’s health.

I have staked my claim, and filed it with the local exchequer. The Duke’s office must approve the claim, which could take weeks. The King’s dominion has grown faster than the new iron horses can travel. I pray that this pivotal piece of paper arrives shortly.

With my love for God and King,


April said...

"Be the honeywagon."

"Excuse me?" The tense Ms. Fairbank dropped her arms and stared in shock at her meditation guru.

"To climb to the top of your field, you're going to have to present yourself as having the best of what everyone wants. It's a pivotal concept."

"Your theory has a few flaws," the prim brunette replied. "I work with two groups of people: one wants to stake a claim between my thighs, and the other is lying in wait to grab my corner office. What do you say to that?"

"Uh, let's try again next Tuesday."

magolla said...

“Honeywagon, you gotta plugged tank?”

“Yes, follow me.” I led him to the backyard.

“Well, Mrs. Fairbank, I see one of the pivotal flaws that caused your sewage tank to overfill.”

“Oh, what is it?”

“Uh, Ma’am, there seems to be a body in the hatch.”

“Damn! I knew I should have taken the stake out of Edward’s heart before I shoved him in there.” I deliberately caught his gaze. “I certainly hope you are for Team Jacob.”

Malia Sutton said...

When Sorche Fairbank went off the honeywagon, it was a pivitol point in her life and her career as the top literary agent. Without honey, it simply wasn't possible to slog through all those fractious e-mails and queries. There was too much at stake to live without the one thing she loved most of all: Honey Nut Cheerios.

David E. Hughes said...

As the noose tightened around his neck, Kevin the Other Kid was willing to admit that he had flaws, including his poorly chosen nickname. His lengthy stakeout of the bank in Fairbank, Iowa had convinced him that this robbery would be pivotal, allowing him to join the ranks of Billy the Kid and Jessie James. He would have gotten away if it hadn’t been for that damned honeywagon. Why did it have to lose a wheel right at the entrance to town? Kevin’s bronco was unable to extricate itself from the goo that had spread across the road.

Steve Forti said...

Robert entered FairBank, hoping its namesake meant the loan officer here was more reasonable than that jerk over at CruelBank. He knew his business plan had many flaws. Never a grammar guru, he used enough pivotal sentences to keep his high school English teacher fraught with nightmares of “althoughs”, “yets”, and “howevers”. Nonetheless, he felt confident this meeting would help him stake his claim in the Port-o-Potty emptying industry. Yes, to possess his own honeywagon – what the kids at camp called a “kaka sucka” – was his dream. And as he shook the loan officer’s hand, he could almost smell success.

Red Boot Pearl said...

“Mr. Fairbank…here with…honeywagon,” the walkie-talkie buzzed.

“Thanks,” I held the yellow button down. Why did he have to come to clean out the port-a-potties now? During the most pivotal decision I’d make in my life… “I have to go,” I whispered.

“No we need an answer!” the black clad man growled. My fingers trembled around the walkie-talkie. “NOW or you’ll never see John again.”

I gasped. This was one of my flaws. The stake was too high, I had no choice. My decision was made. I had to go meet them. Mr. Fairbanks and the honeywagon had to wait.

Bill Plante said...

Fairbank, her last name, sounds normal. The middle is Elizabeth, which is fairly standard. But Sorche, her first, what the hell is that? Has a romantic ring though. I want to meet her. Hung with a handle like that she couldn’t have too many flaws, and probably doesn’t go around driving a stake through hearts. If anything is to come of it, for me, it will be absolutely pivotal she doesn’t drive a honeywagon.

Kim said...

“Mr. Fairbank?” Maggie Carmicheal’s heels clicked against the wooden floor of the pier. She hurried to the boat at the end of the pier where Mr. Fairbank paused and regarded her from under the brim of his cap. The boat looked huge - sails folded up, brass shining in the sunlight with the name Honeywagon emblazoned on the stern.
“Yes?” Lines creased his face, tiny flaws from a life well lived.
This was it. The pivotal moment of her life where everything was at stake. The moment she’d been dreading and anticipating for the last ten years.
“I’m Maggie Carmichael.”

adamo said...

We were hiding in the hills west of Fairbanks watching them land. Jimmy had the binoculars and was calling out the tail numbers. He picked at his cheek.
“Jimmy, you ok?”
“Huh? Yeah, fine.”
He nodded and went back to the binos. I’d cut him in a quarter-stake, but maybe it was a bad idea. I couldn’t afford him getting twitchy at the pivotal moment. This line of work is unforgiving of flaws.
I checked the guns. Jimmy called out the tail number of a yellow bush plane.
“Everybody get ready,” I said, “here comes the honeywagon.”

A.J. said...

“Darlin’, roll that sweet honeywagon of yours on over. I’m feeling a might frisky.”

She gave a quick smile and headed towards him; the wooden stake hidden behind her back. “Sweetness,” she purred, “this is a pivotal moment in our relationship.” “I know we both have our flaws, but yours have done filled me up.”

Quick as a cat, she lunged at him and drove the stake straight into his heart. “I’m tired of all your runnin’ around and bloodsuckin’” she spit. “Consider us divorced. And, by the way, I’m not keeping Fairbank as my last name.”

christwriter said...

Furious, Grace Fairbank stared at her husband. “We wanted a new car!”

“We've flaws in that plan.” Kevin jerked his chin outside. Carol Teage worked their old hive, wagon and brother in tow. The pivotal smoke dropped the bees fast. Watching Dean work crutches drove a stake through Kevin’s heart. “She thinks they’ll earn his running legs by summer, for sports. Selling honey.”


“No car. I’d rather buy the honeywagon.”

Dean threw a rock, waved his crutch after like a baseball bat. His sister packed five-dollar honeycomb into jars. Hesitant, Grace smiled, then nodded a damp-eyed yes.

Writer At Work said...

Able threw his hammer and glared. “Pivotal lynch won’t go, too many flaws, won’t reach the Fairbank folk tonight.”
“They’ll cope.” Mel looked into the honeywagon, the guest slept.
“They got trouble; some guy won’t stay in his coffin.”
“That passenger doesn’t look like he’d shake a leaf from a tree,” Mel said.
“That’s Van Helsing,” Able said, “He got stake in his pockets and chips on his shoulders.”
“So, what’s he gonna do?”
Able wondered if Melody ever listened, “He’s gonna kill the vampire, using you as bait. We oughter rest.”

When Able woke, his daughter had gone.

Lorenda said...


“I told you not to call me that.” Laura frowned at her partner’s insistence on idiotic endearments. Undercover and on the verge of the pivotal drug bust of the decade, and he decided to get cute. Didn’t he realize how much was at stake?

He grinned, fully aware of her annoyance. “Stay behind me, and try not to shoot me in the butt. It’s the one piece of me not riddled with flaws.”

She opened her mouth with a return quip, but his hand rose for silence.

Fairbank and Dystal in place.” Her earpiece beeped a response.


BPatterson said...

The honeywagon pulled away. Greenish liquid dribbled from the flaws in the tank, leaving dark snaking trails in the dust. The tank was too full, but that couldn’t be helped.

I could feel my cheek throbbing. It was already swelling and darkening into a spectacular purple. Probably broken again. He hadn’t expected me to fight back. I never had.

But John Fairbank had gone for my baby with a tomato stake. A pivotal moment of blinding fury. A rock. I don’t remember smashing his skull to pulp.

My brother Joe drives the honeywagon. Now more full of shit than usual.

Matthew said...

Without Ms. Fairbank I couldn’t open this store. This was a pivotal moment in my life and there was more at stake here than Ms. Fairbank’s money, my reputation was on the line.

My business plan was without a flaw and all I needed was the product. The honeywagon was coming today and my shelves would be lined with the purest honey known to bear. I was about to become the biggest honey retailer in 100 Acre Wood and finally put that yellow rag doll out of business. Winnie the Pooh, eat your heart out.

Angela Robbins said...

His biggest mistake: trusting her. The fact a guy named Con was swindled… irony at its best.

Naomi barreled down I-40 in the Cheyenne. She’d stolen three-grand and hotwired his “honeywagon” while Con was fast asleep.

So she’d goldbricked him. It was fair bank. But he sure was cute—dimples, fallow curls. Naomi couldn’t get her mind off those hazel eyes.

Somewhere near Tulsa, Naomi realized their one night stand was a pivotal fork in the road to her heart. Turning around, she’d fallen victim to her hugest of flaws: an addiction to cowboys in painted-on Wranglers. Resistance was futile.

onceuponabook said...

"Fairbank is dead!"

Dave met his boss' glinting eyes with a raised eyebrow.

She leaned closer and whispered conspiratorially: "You know; the guy in charge of the honeywagon."

Dave pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed, wishing ambiguity weren't one of her many flaws.

"Look, not that I don't care, but what's so pivotal about this guy's death?"

She reeled back, stunned.

"Don't you know what's at stake here?"

Dave frowned and shifted from one foot to the other, wondering.

"You've been promoted! You won't have to clean floors anymore!"

The mop fell from his hands...

catcaller said...

Sure, Jethro’s got some flaws, but a lack of smell ain’t one of em for it allows him to drive that stinkin’ honeywagon.

Unfortunately, that day at the country club, it was his legally blind status that raised the stakes as he plowed into Ella-Mae, the mayor’s daughter, in that pivotal moment as she emerged wearing a custom designed Vera Wang ivory-white wedding gown.

In his defense, Jethro did slam on the brakes, but that just tipped the wagon over, causing an accident that stunned on-lookers still refer to as, “the biggest dump ever taken in the city of Fairbank.”

joanq6 said...

I gave away field-level seats to the Giants game because she couldn’t wait to see “Vampires in Fairbank.” What I won’t do for love. Of course, it wasn’t enough to see the movie. Then we had to discuss it — flaws and all — on the drive home.

“My favorite part was when that girl rammed the stake through the cute vampire’s heart,” she said.

“Yeah, that was a pivotal moment.” I switched on the radio for the late score. “But that movie smelled worse than a honeywagon on a hot summer day.”

“Come on, Dad. I can tell you loved it.”

River said...

Fairbank, Iowa--The film crew was up early, but John Flaws didn't walk out of his honeywagon until midday, well hung over and gnawing on some asprin. What the hell had happened last night? He couldn't remember.

He'd decided to stake his career on this movie. It was a slasher film, with the usual flaws. But he was the lead, and he got to live.

Pivotal scene on set.

Sally, his leading lady, walked up to him holding a cleaver.

"This is for last night, jerk!"

The cleaver, it turned out, wasn't fake.

John's last thought: But...I'm supposed to live.

lrdesignbyus said...

Laura said...
"That’s Bull"
So as I was running from the raging bull I tripped and fell into the honeywagon. Need I say this was a pivotal moment in my life, egged on by the hot snortings of my pursuer. I guess when my brother told me to milk Fairbank, I shouldn’t have assumed he was a she.
Who knew, well maybe he did, that my life was at stake when I crouched between the stiles with my milk stool and pail. Blind trust was one of many flaws I suffered from.
My brother was about to experience my worst, vengeance.

justwritecat said...

“He’ll be fair. Bank on it.”

“I don’t know, Ricky. Stakes are high, there’s no room for—”

“You ever know me to not think through everything? Not work through any flaws in the plan?”

“Still, Peewee said it was pivotal—”

“Ah, he’s filling your head with words you don’t know. Trust me on this, George. We’re golden here, like honey. Wagon’s here! Let’s do this.”

The boys walked up to the car, now idling in the driveway. Their older brother Eddie, the only one allowed to drive the sacred family wagon, rolled down the window and turned to face them, a doubtful look in his eyes.

“Hey bro, we hear there’s a two-fer at the Dairy Queen. If we take Peewee, then there’d be one left over for you.”

Little Ricky knew everyone’s weak spot, and his brother’s was the sweet siren song of the Dilly Bar.

**I realize this is over 100 words, but I wanted to submit the story-if not for the contest, then to be read. It's in honor of my Uncle George, who passed away this week. A story about George and his brothers when they were young. Probably true, knowing my Dad (Ricky).

Marjorie said...


He couldn’t identify the pivotal moment, the turning point, the instant he fell out of love, but he knew his freedom, his very sanity was at stake.

List her flaws, his lawyer said.

How amazing to discover many had once been endearing, like:
#22, her small town (Fairbank, IA, population, 2000) naivetĂ© that he’d first thought refreshing.

or #1, her frequent malapropisms which he’d found funny and compellingly cute.

Come to think of it, maybe the end was the time she said without irony: “Baby, you’re gonna hitch your star to the honeywagon.”

Ronda Gibb Hinrichsen said...

What a fun, honeywagon of a contest! This could be pivotal to a woman's (or man's, but I'll stick with woman's) writing career, especially if she's never won anything, except a second rate, silver-plated tent stake from Fairbank, Arizona's yearly ghost writing contest. In fact, her descrdptive flaws might just be small enough no one will see them. And she'll win! Wahoo! :)

Matthew AT Banning said...

A young couple sat in their lodgings in Fairbanks, Alaska.

The woman turns to her husband.

“I think we should talk about our commitment in this pivotal time of our relationship.”

“It’s our Honeymoon, Sweaty,” he replied. “I don’t want to hear about my flaws. I only did it once before I met you.”

She glared at him.

“I should have asked this question before our rushed marriage. How much are you willing to stake for me?”


“That’s it! I’m getting the first flight home!!”

“But Honeywagon!! Come back!!”

He didn’t duck as the ring pegged his eye.

(99 words)

Tom M Franklin said...

"Twenty bucks?" Smoke spiraled from the lit end of the cigarette. "Okay, that's fair."

"Bank on it," his companion said. "You know, that’ll kill you."

"It's a stake in your heart, too." He stabbed with the cigarette. "If you believe the docs."

"Take yourself out, but leave me alone."

He laughed, gray smoke enveloping his companion. "My pivotal failing?"

"Your flaw, not mine. You want this or not?"

He nodded. "My throat's raw."

"Small wonder."

They traded: a twenty for a quart jar.

Unscrewing the lid, he dipped in a finger and tasted. He smiled, his throat coating.


Wagon behind him, glass jars clanking, his companion walked on, searching for another sale.

Hilary said...

Honeywagon was finished.

Jessie sat in the empty kitchen, remembering the grueling decade during which she’d built Honeywagon from a tiny pastry cart to a thriving restaurant.

It was too late to correct the flaws in her business plan. Too late to do more than regret giving Ryan Fairbank a stake in the company. Every time a pivotal decision had to be made, she’d deferred to him as she did to every man. They were rocks in her stream, and she tried to ease past them without causing a ripple.

Now a torrential fury shook her.

She would flood them.

Erin said...

“Honey, wagon’ that tongue o’ yours ain’t gonna get you nothin’ from me. You listenin’?” She snapped her thick fingers at me.

Everything was at stake. This case was pivotal to my career, and I was about to blow my cover. The job was supposed to be easy, but I was falling for her. Despite her sweaty, fleshy flaws, I wanted to seduce her.

“I’m listenin’,” I retorted. “It ain’t fair…bank security down here ain’t what it is up north.”

“You doubtin’ me?” Her eyes narrowed.

I held my breath until the folds of her chin relaxed. I had her.

Matt said...

“Radio Spot / Morning Rotation / Tape #63”

Honeywagon Express. You may have heard that we’ve hit some hard times, but rest assured that we always have our customers in mind. Competitors say our business model is pure lunacy and our grassroots infrastructure has nothing but flaws. Others say they wouldn’t stake a single penny on our on-time delivery guarantee. But ask yourself this: who else can be counted on to deliver for you at that pivotal moment to anywhere in the country on an authentic covered wagon? No one! That’s who! Whether it’s Fairbank, Iowa or Oatfield, Oregon, we’re your delivery specialists. Honeywagon Express! We’re suh-weet!

DRM7476 said...

Kelly Fairbank had her flaws. Her willingness to ignore what was at stake would once again prove pivotal.

All she could see was the
honeywagon sitting at the bar. Kelly was temporarily blind to the fact that this man carried a gun and killed people for a living. To her, he represented only money, not a life. So when she slinked between her quarry and his friend in the noisy, crowded bar, she never felt the knife slide between her ribs toward her rapidly beating heart.

Sha'el, Princess of Pixies said...

“Oh, My God, this IS a pivotal moment”

“For you, maybe. But I’m a traditionalist. I have a stake in this, and I’m not happy.”

“But think about it – umm what’s your name?”

“Worker 32957.”

“Ah, yes. As I was saying, think about it. No more mindless flying, buzzing, dancing or any of that nonsense.”

“There are flaws in your reasoning, brother. Won’t you miss the Fairbank? The exploring? The picnic buzzing? It’s tradition.”

“But with the new honeywagon concept there will be no need. Freedom from tired wings at last.”

John said...

“’77 Ford Econoline, perfectly restored,” he gloated. Chrome doodads sparkled. Airbrushed on gleaming black, a caped weirdo at the pivotal moment, biting a buxom blonde. In case anyone didn’t get it, gothic letters dripping blood spelled “Van-Pire.”

Inside, vermillion shag up to the mirrored ceiling. “Waterbed, wet bar, and 200-watt stereo: 8-track and cassette. A real honeywagon.” He stroked the velour sheets, leering.

“More than you know,” said Cassy. “Only two flaws: no lava lamp ... and these blood stains.” She rammed the stake home.

“Geez, the class of vampire you get in Fairbanks. That Anchorage job better come through.”

Eleven Eleven said...

The pivotal moment hit as Brent pulled the honeycomb-laden cart.

“I’d be happier in Fairbank,” he announced.

“Iowa?” Penny said.


“That’s Fairbanks, dumbass.” She grabbed his arm. “You’d stake Mom’s life on that?”

Brent scowled. “Mom’s heart is her problem.”

“Devoted son.”

He jerked free of his sister and the honey wagon. “This bee crap is for the birds. You know it.”

“The birds and the bees? Yep. Crap.”

“This isn’t about-”

“Brent, that girl has flaws. She’ll break your heart in Alaska.”

Instead of shoving her, Brent walked. If Penny liked drowning in honey, that was her problem.

Eleanor said...

It was Spring in Fairbank, and the architectural flaws of the main strip hid behind pink fluffy clouds of blossom. Kip Jackson's lolling gait was making its way down past the diner where he paused to check his reflection in the tinted window. He looked good, but on this pivotal day in his life, good wasn't enough. He had to be perfect.

Honeywagon Records loomed on the corner of 5th and Stake, the only heritage building left on the block. Outside, Kip swung his guitar onto his shoulder, flicked his cigarette into the road, and pushed open the steel door.

Adam Kirchhoff said...

The Shark was gonna be his agent, she just didn't know it yet. This was his chance to make her remember 'Kirchhoff' when she finally reads his query. When he finally finishes his book. All he needed was a story that included fairbank, pivotal, stake, flaws and honeywagon (Where the hell did that come from?).

The first attempt went bad. FAIL. Click that little trash can image. He wants to try again.

He's done writing. There it is in red: Publish Your Comment. He clicks it again.

All he can do now is nervously await her bite, good or bad.

ALee said...

She was living proof you could sale just about anything, as long as it was sight unseen. Two minutes after meeting her, he wanted his money back. You’d think with a name like Honeywagon, the hooker would at least be a looker. Her flaws though were written all over, and he was no Mr. Black when it came to fashion, but you didn’t have to be an expert or asshole to notice her wardrobe was a pivotal mistake too.

He didn’t know the protocol but his pocket 45 insured he’d have a conversation with her pimp who called himself Fairbank.

The Sentence Sleuth said...

The clerk almost dropped my sandwich mayo side down when I asked, “Your hoagie contains ‘s-t-a-k-e’? Shouldn’t that sign say, ‘s-t-e-a-k,’ ma’am?”

She launched me a withering look.

I’d tried to hold back, but my typo radar worked too well.

I flicked my eyes around in case more flaws lurked nearby. Bingo! This was Fairbanks, not “Fairbank.”

Did I dare mention this gaffe, or should I just zip it? I thought perfect spelling was a pivotal part of effective communication. Not everyone agreed, apparently. On second thought, why was I surprised that a restaurant called the Honeywagon had crappy signs?

Lumpy Dog said...

She had her flaws. She hated my hometown, for example. “Fairbanks smells like salmon ass,” she’d say. It stung like a rose stem slapped against my neck.

I wasn’t perfect either. I know that now. I thought honeywagon was a cute nickname.

She didn’t care for it.

Maybe that was the turning point – the umpteenth time I demanded a beer using that vaguely sexual term. How could one word, one I’d used too often to count, be so pivotal?

But that was it. The stake through the heart of things.

No more honeywagon.

No more juicebox.

No more sugartub.


Lyle said...

The soft, yellow bear needed to stake his own claim to the famous Fairbank desert beehives. The local gold there would save the family tree from foreclosure.

When he finally found the secret hives, he dug out the liquid gold and turned the honeywagon home toward market day.

Alas, the pivotal journey was too long for the pudgy hero.

"Oh, bother," he said to the odd little pink pig beside him.

His native flaws cursed the mission from the start. The wagon was empty. The only evidence the sticky gold ever existed dripped softly from his lips and fingers.

David said...

Jeb removed each stake and closed the casket. Jeeze, he thought, one would've been enough--the old geezer's definitely expired. Too bad. He had his flaws, but his antics were a godsend. Crucial, pivotal even, if you count all the farkleberry trees he planted. Those berries saved the town from famine more than once. So what if he took a damn bloody drink now and then? Grunting, he struggled the long wooden box onto the honeywagon with the last of the port-o-potties. That's what Jeb Fairbank did. He hauled stuff.

History Sleuth said...

Twitch scraped his shoe’s sole against the curb. Satisfied, he returned to his post outside the nicotine-coated window of the Honeywagon. “I don’t see um’ Andy.”

Andy leaned back, then thought better of it. There’s only one place for the patron cesspool to go when the johns were full. Andy felt the seat of his pants. Still dry. “Relax. Tina knows what’s at stake. Bitch has flaws, but no chick’s better at pulling a fairbank.”

“Right. Right.” Twitch fumbled his pocket change. “She leads him out thinkin’ he’s gettin’ a piece, then…”

“Then---at the pivotal second---whack!” Andy finished.

ClothDragon said...

I'd known there were a few flaws in my plan, but it was the mistake that killed it dead. Unlike the vampire we were after. Leaving the pivotal -- inherited, carved with magic symbols to give it extra slaying powers -- stake in the honeywagon back in Fairbank was something from which we could not recover. And likely wouldn’t. The trip had taken longer than we’d thought so the twenty minutes it would take us to get the hell out of the caves would probably be too long. Tip for all future hunters: Check your supplies. And check them again.

Sharen Ford said...

According to Matthew, "Fairbank" was the architectural equivalent of a honeywagon: a load of shit packaged in a whimsical name. Among his many other alleged flaws, his great-great-great-grandfather, the builder of this hideous blight on the landscape, had obviously lacked any sensitivity to beauty and form. In Matthew's opinion, that was reason enough to burn him at the stake, but legend held it was his ancestor's meddling in sorcery that brought him to a fiery end. It was a pivotal event in the Frederick family history that, as far as Matthew was concerned, should have included the manor.

Katherine said...

Her music was loud, so she didn't hear him at first.
"Excuse me?" she said.
"I said, can I hitch my cart to your honeywagon?"
She hadn't expected it this early, so she said, "Your approach has a lot of flaws." But then, when he started to reply, she recognized him.
It was the counselor's fault really. She had said, "Your marriage is at stake. It's pivotal you find a new way to communicate."
So when he said, "Baby, can I lay my head down on your sweet fairbank?" she took his hand and they walked back to the apartment.

ryan field said...

I read some of these. Then I googled honeywagon and almost fell over laughing.

Florence said...

Speaking of mothers. If she isn't nagging about my many character flaws, she's berating me for not being more like my big sister. "Don't be so selfish. You can't take it with you."

"I know, mom, I know."

"Don't you patronize me. With so much at stake, you better listen to Irwin. He's pivotal in this venture capital deal in Fairbank. You should be thankful your sister thought of you."

Six months later, Irwin's honeywagon of a deal collapsed, I lost a fortune and my sister and Irwin flew south to Buenos Aires.

My mother plans to visit this winter.

Vicki said...

I have flaws. Who doesn’t? The stake I’d made on the honeywagon suggested nothing less. Yet it was at that moment, you know, the pivotal moment when everything changes or stays stagnate. I felt the icy tendrils dance across my shoulders. That son of a bitch, Fairbank was here.

Simon Hay Soul Healer said...

The place smelled like cigarettes and vomit and all the strippers had flaws. The sign flashed Honeywagon, the atmosphere shouted shithole. Fairbanks was in a corner booth kneading the breasts of a scarred anorexic teen, and the iron stake, sharp and discrete, disappeared into his ear.

It’s these pivotal moments that shape our future. The teen’s mouth formed a perfect O, and the beauty of it disfigured her uniqueness.

“Do you want to live?”

She hissed “yes,” and I believed her. Tooth decay and designer E’s filled the space between us, and Fairbanks twitched his way to hell.

Leah said...

Henry and Francie sat together, planning their next business venture.

"C’mon, Henry. It's pivotal that our presentation is impressive. No flaws in the letterhead. It’s gotta look great.”

“Pivotal? Ain’t you gettin’ big for yer britches.”

“There's tons at stake. Banks aren’t lending to just anyone in this economy. Hollywood Honeywagon Cleaners is glamorous."

She wiped her runny eye with a hankie.

"Fran, we're gonna be scrubbing toilets."

He rubbed his hand through his sparse, greasy hair. "Besides, doesn’t matter what you call us. You ain't no Vivien Leigh, and I ain't no Douglas Fairbanks."

Ali said...

"Mom!” June screeched. “What’s a honeywagon?”

I nearly spit my coffee. Where do kids come up with these questions? Last week, it was ‘There are some pivotal flaws in planning my birthday party. Can we revisit this issue?’ She’s nine, and I’m the lawyer.

I’ve created a monster.

“Sweetie, I need to work. A lot’s at stake for me. Bed. Now.” Where was Greg? He’s never around when I need him. Typical.

“But mom!” she protested.

“June Fairbank, go to bed!” I replied, not looking up.

She went to bed, but my husband never did come home that night.


SAVanVleck said...

The pivotal point in the evening was when the honeywagon turned over in front of my mother’s house. Up until that moment, Fairbank and I had been having a grand old time, eating watermelon and spitting seeds at fireflies. The stakes were high as I aimed at my fifteenth firefly and the flaws in our evening became apparent.
Curb sitting, eating watermelon and honeywagon accidents are never a good combination.

Marjorie said...

2035: On every corner of Fairbank there is a version of the old Antiques Roadshow.

People stake out for hours. I had brought the old honeywagon, left to me in my great aunt's will.

The appraiser lifted his ax and hit the floor with one swing. We peeked into the secret chamber. It was full of papers! They said, “queries for SlushPile Hell.” The E-mail address, to whom those pivotal queries had been sent, was clear with no flaws.

The old honeywagon might not be worth shit, but the identity of the now urban legend was about to be revealed.

J.C. Montgomery said...

At that pivotal moment before impact, Fairbank learned to hate life even more than the time the honeywagon had overturned into to his convertible, making him late to the interview. The job he wanted most went to someone else.

Nothing ever went as planned. His fatal flaw was thinking things could never get worse.

The breath knocked out of him, he looked up at the open window, the one he’d just leapt from. Looking over, not only had he misjudged the distance, he completely missed the fence stakes.

Such was his life. Nothing ever went right, even death.

Gina Black said...

His First had just called a wrap on scene forty-seven when director Fairbank Lawford--last of that grand Hollywood dynasty--entered his honeywagon to discover the dead blonde draped across his sofa like some zoftig throw. Nothing in film (or business) school had prepared him for this. For all his flaws, Fairbank understood a police investigation would put him further behind and more over budget. He carefully poured himself a double and considered what to do now that the completion of his film was at stake. Taking a sip, he made a pivotal decision. The show must go on.

Toni Lynn said...

Adam Stone's pivotal FBI career moment was based on his mission in Fairbank, Iowa. He was assigned to stake out the farmer's home.

His only flaw in the plan - hiding beneath a honeywagon.

Annie C said...

It was the pivotal moment in Mia Honeywagon's slayer training.

"Stake that blood-sucking vampire!" yelled Sandy Flaws, her mentor.

Mia stood, tears in her eyes. How could she kill John Fairbanks, her lover and the father of her baby.

Stake him or not...either way she lost.

Jil said...

Honeywagon is my racehorse and I love him. Sure, he's got a few flaws,he bites and kicks, but he can run!
And when the stakes are high he wins. You should hear that crowd roar! Anyway,at one time my life was pivotal between me being a nobody or a somebody and Honeywagon made the decision for me. Now I drive a Mercedes, not a rattly old pickup full of tools, everyone treats me with respect,buys me drinks and calls me Mr.Fairbank-life is good -no more Joe the plumber for me.

Michael G-G said...

The shot came from the honeywagon. Fairbank dived behind the Jetta, as the windshield exploded into a million jagged stars. She cursed Robert Flaws--if that was even the bastard's real name. That philosophizing junk about what was at stake if she didn't stop the smugglers--Flaws had set her up good.

Fairbank waited. She’d never lost a test of patience. It had to be screaming sauna-hot in that honeywagon. Not to mention the fly-buzzing stench. When the door swung open, she shot the guy wearing the "Pivotal Plumbing" t-shirt clean through the chest.

Nicole said...

Motoring the honeywagon away from the morning’s first sludgesuck (dispatch’s word, not his), Dirk notes the oncoming dually rounding a bend on Fairbank Road. Legion sunflowers tailgate the intense monsoons, and a surveyor’s stake stands among them, violent orange in all that yellow. Beauty itself, Dirk thinks. The dually swerves inward, front tire blown, and he sees it’s the local beekeeper’s rig - the Real Honeywagon. And in that pivotal half-moment - the last of his life, with death bearing down and septic calls still to make, endless crapper flaws to diagnose – Dirk recognizes himself for the imposter he is.

Richmond Writer said...

"My ring just fell in the loo!"
"I hope you meant the toilet seat."
"I mean our engagement ring."
Unlike regular toilets in a honeywagon there was no u-bend for a two carat diamond to sink to. He knew what was at stake but at this point her desire for him to swim in shit to find her ring that she lost, well it was a pivotal moment. "Baby your flaws out weigh your assets. I'm headed for Fairbank."

"Daddy gave Salmon Cottage and the yacht to me."

L. Bowser said...

The musty autumn air floated through the white pines next to my bee hive. It was the pivotal year. Only the chosen ones can produce honey fine enough for Billy Fairbank.

I could hear the distant rattling of the old tin bell on his honeywagon. Its purposeful flaws produced a multi-melodic, harmonious tone, letting everyone know a man of the gods was coming.

The old man stopped and walked to the hive. He crushed a sample of comb.

He smelled it.

He tasted it.

His brow wrinkled.

Then smiling at me, he said, “I believe I will take a stake.”

The Alliterative Allomorph said...

Freddie Fairbank uses a stake to pry open the door of the honeywagon. It is a pivotal time in his career. The last thing he needs right now is for his co-star to show him up. "You think I got acting flaws? You think you can turn your nose up at me? Well, think again, buddy!" Without hesitation, he takes a dump on his couch. "Now THIS is something to turn your nose up at."

Alex said...

FairBank? Yeah right.

Jack turned to his crew. Ten men. All with noticeable flaws.
Cauliflower ears. Hammer toes. Third nipples. The little guy on the left had eleven fingers.

"You know what's at stake, men."


"This is a pivotal point in our history. We have a chance to change the future. So grab your cups, head to the honeywagon, enjoy those magazines and movies. Take your deposits to the counter when you've filled 'em up."

More cheers.

"We'll show these sperm bank perfectionists who's fair."

The Zuccini said...

I really want this one, lol.

A monster-slaying governess, a vampire librarian, and a professorial zombie are walking through the Fairbank movie set ...

“I don’t care how pivotal you think this novel is, it has plot flaws big enough to drive a semi- through,” the Vampire said.

“I’d stake my reputation on it,” the zombie said, punching the vampire in the arm. “Get it. Stake.”

“Don’t punch me.” The vampire shoved the Zombie. He tripped and tumbled George Clooney’s honeywagon.

“At least he can't smell any worse than he already does,” the vampire said.

“Oh, look, there’s George Clooney,”said the governess.

C said...

I staked this spot on the fair bank of the Snake River just for you, honey.

It was pivotal, marrying you in Independence. I thought I’d make a life of my own in Oregon; I just needed a ride. And honey, you danced on your tenderfeet all the way up the aisle.

But honey, you shouldn’t have taught me to shoot buffalo so flawlessly. And honey, you should never have traded the last of my good calico for another box of bullets.

Honey, the wagon wasn’t big enough for the both of us.

Maybe you should have died of dysentery.

Julie Lindsey said...

“Honeywagon,” he said. “You should be mine.”

“Mmm hmm,” I said, pushing him aside. I was no man’s Honeywagon.

“I’d stake my reputation on it, baby,” he cooed, brushing hair from my cheek. “Anything for you.”

It was a pivotal moment because in Fairbank, Iowa, a man’s reputation means everything.

Maybe I could be his Honeywagon, I thought.Maybe.

Claire Svendsen said...

I’d kill Fairbanks for my codename. Honeywagon? It was a blatant insult to the five pounds I’d gained over the summer. Sure I had my character flaws but being addicted to cupcakes wasn’t one of them. In this case it was a pivotal asset.

“You know what’s at stake.”

“Shut up.”

I didn’t need him buzzing in my earpiece every five seconds like a damn fly.

“Your usual today?”

I nodded. The store clerk put ten frosted cupcakes in a box.

“Do it now.”

I shot a micro camera into the ceiling. We’d get their secret recipe or die trying.

Graham Bradley said...

Heavy fire rained down on us from across the main road. I grabbed Pfc. Ramos and ducked behind an overturned cart for cover.

“I count at least nineteen hostiles!” I shouted over the peppery crack of repeated gunshots. “Got some flaws in their formation, but it’s pretty solid.”

Ramos adjusted his helmet and rapped his knuckles against the cart. “They’ve only got .22s. This old honeywagon’s too thick.”

“I’d kill for some stakes and a crossbow right now.”

“That’s for vampires, not zombies. Specifics are pivotal, bro.”

I sighed. “Armed undead farmers. Only in Fairbanks, man. Let’s do this!”

Kay Richardson said...

The first ride upon the honeywagon is a pivotal element in the life of a Richardson. Father planned son’s visit from time immemorial. There were no flaws to the arrangement – it excused uncomfortable conversation. Followers of Freud, we Richardsons believed both childhood and sex to be pivotal influences upon stout character formation.

I remember:

There waited a purple minibus. I approached the woman standing at the open driver’s door. She wore a smile, little else.

Her name was ‘Fairbank’. I noted its strangeness.

Her response: “I don’t charge much.”

I coughed, embarrassed.

Three minutes later, I emerged a man.

Ally said...

"I stake my claim on Miss Glorianna Huffington."

Lord Beefhampton?! He was no belswagger. His flaws were few. Now my reaction would certainly be pivotal. To refuse him? I could be hanged.

I turned to face him and curtsied low, my back toward the crowd that had gathered for Declaration Day. I knew my sisters from Fairbanks Finishing School were waiting for me to make a stand against the injustice. I had promised.

So I did it.

I pulled the loosened seam and ripped off my skirt, revealing the message embroidered in my bloomers, "Hump Off, Honeywagon!"

Malcolm Matthews said...

“Throbbin’ Hood”

Hilary Honeywagon started her strip-tease. But makeup and lights could no longer hide her flaws. The director gagged behind his hand, and some of the crew giggled. They thought she didn’t notice, but she did.

She ran a wrinkled finger down the stomach of her co-star, the legendary Dougass Fairbank. She knew what was at stake. This was her pivotal moment. The film that would restore her fame. Fame she suddenly realized she didn’t want. She grabbed a robe and walked off the set. She may have lived on her knees, but damn it, she’d die on her feet.

Shelley Watters said...

“Hey there honeywagon! You look hot!” he slurred and took another swig of his beer. Despite his flaws, he was my friend so I refrained from him punching him in the face for calling me ‘honeywagon’. It appeared I wasn’t the first person he used the line on tonight. That’s probably how he got the black eye that was starting to emerge.

“Your job is at stake and you’re drinking?” I sighed. Tomorrow was a pivotal day at the office, as Mr. Fairbanks would announce who would be laid off. Did he know something?

“Don’t tell me what to do…”

Kathie said...

My throat closed. A pivotal moment. He teetered on the top of a rickety Fairbank ladder.

I ran my hand through my hair and peered down the hall. Was the maid lurking?

He strained upward, one foot in the air, face reddening as he screwed in the light-bulb.

I licked my lips. It was the last time I’d have to pull the old honeywagon up to his watering hole.

Still, the stakes were high, my plan had flaws. A woman didn’t have the luxury of just pushing her husband down the stairs anymore.

I stepped forward, brushed past…oops.

Michelle McLean said...

I snap the picture, capturing the pivotal moment. You are now leaving Fairbank. Best road sign ever. We smile. I turn up the radio and we belt out the newest Honeywagon song at the top of our lungs. He kisses my cheek, loving me, flaws and all.

The brakes squeal. I scream.

I wake, red lights blink blink blinking near my face. The car horn blares. I drag myself away, ignoring the jagged glass shredding my legs. Debris litters the road. Sleeping bags, a tent stake, his pillow, shredded, feathers floating in the cool breeze.

I scream.

B L Maguire said...

It was one of those days at the Fairbank School for Social Awkwardness. There was so much at stake as I approached the Girl of My Dreams in search of a date. It was a pivotal moment.

“Would you marry me?”

Her eyes grew wide and her mouth dropped open. She gasped and then turned on her heel.

Sadly, I could only stare at her sensuous honeywagon as she walked away, my flaws further revealed to the world.

I was doomed.

khamaileon said...

“You know Fairbank, you can just about have your pick from the honeywagon.”
“ banks. It’s Fairbanks, sir.”
“Yeah, well, like I say, none of them is perfect.”
The Director leans back in his tan leather chair, rolling his Havana between his thumb and forefinger.
“Think carefully Fairbank.”
Douglas realises this is a pivotal moment. They all have flaws. The brunette with the pout and welcoming cleavage. The blonde who pretends to be shy. The redhead with passion glinting in her eyes. His career is at stake.
“I believe you have a daughter just out of Julliard.”

JasonF said...

“I’m so sick of these damn vampire stories,” Joe ,the agent, moaned. His slush had gone from a honeywagon of creativity to a pile of fanged garbage since THAT BOOK was published.

Once, fantastic creatures cavorted on the fairbanks of imagination – there were flaws, sure, but the pivotal thing Joe wanted in submissions was there: originality!

Now, it was vampire after vampire and he’d had enough. From his desk he grabbed a wooden stake and thrust it through the hearts of the offending manuscripts. “Take that, stupid vampires!” Joe cried. He felt a cathartic rush as he polished his fangs.

Michele Shaw said...

"Honey, wag on isn't right. It's wax on. Wax on, wax off? Sound familiar?" said Jackie as she dried a plate.

"Oh, right," said Mike. "I'm trying to teach Fairbank proper discipline. His future is at stake."

Jackie wiped the sink and shook her head. "The only stake that boy understands is T-bone. He has flaws. You're wasting your time."

"Shhh, Jackie, he'll hear you. This is pivotal to his education."

They turned their heads to a clicking noise and looked into the sad eyes of Fairbank.

"I'm sorry, Fairbank," said Jackie. "I was rude."

To which he replied, "Woof!"

MarissaV said...

“Honey, wagons are for hauling. I’m hauling you to the beach.” His little hands gripped the side as we bumped along the path.

“What’s that?” he asked, pointing to driftwood covered with flaws.

“What’s that?” he asked, pointing to stakes in the ground from a tent.

“What’s that?” he asked, as he made a pivot along the edge of the wagon to touch the wheel.

I sighed, two year olds. I grabbed the sunscreen. He was so fair.

“Banks, come here.”

“What’s that?”

“Our lunch.”

“What’s that?”

“A bird.”

I turned around.

“Banks, no! Don’t feed it to the birds.”

de la O said...

The union of Curtis Honeywagon and Megan Fairbank wasn’t without flaws. Megan was the town floozy, and Curtis was the local sheriff who had arrested her for indecent exposure. She was caught swimming topless in the town’s memorial fountain while pocketing people’s wishes. Rumor had it, she was up to a buck fifty-eight when the pivotal event took place. He was in love, and decided to stake his heart on it. Local folks thought he had lost his mind, marrying such a temptress. I just chalked it up to bad judgment. It was known to run in my family.

Michelle said...

John Elson walked to the grave of his wife, dead these six months. Fairbank was not especially dangerous, but she'd made a pivotal choice that Saturday - an errand to an unfamiliar part of town. They said she must not have seen the honeywagon that hit her, never stopping.

How could something so simple - so silly, really - as shopping for a garden stake have ended her life?

Elson despised the city now. No longer his community, it stank of death. He saw only its flaws.

He bent down, replacing last week's roses. And saw her necklace, glinting in the grass.

noth said...

'Flaws through straws' was a very respected film society.
It's oldest member, Mr. Fairbank, one day decided that just watching films was not enough.
Other members agreed.
Mr. Fairbank suggested making a film about a stake. This later started an argument, as some members thought it would be a film about a piece of wood, while others thought it would be about a legal share.
Someone brought bombs.
It all ended with a honeywagon and two producers on fire. It was a pivotal event, since they were suddenly left without a storage room. Also, the police came.
The society disbanded.

Wendy Tyler Ryan said...

Dylan followed Fairbank into the dock. "Nice ship. How'd you get her?"

"Don't ask." Fairbank replied. "And don't look too close, she's got flaws."

Is she safe?" Dylan asked.

"She'll have to be, I'm not about to miss the action on Delta. It's pivotal to the Alliance's independence. I have to go, there's way too much at stake."

"Well, you can't set out on her maiden voyage without giving her a name."

"She's got a name." Fairbank started to grin. He stepped back, raised his arm and pointed to the side of the hull.

"Honeywagon! Have you lost your mind?"

Megoblocks said...

Jakpep and Pizlop eagerly bounded through the portal. Normally the two imps were summoned only for pivotal, high stake moments in their master’s life. But this was a natural (and rare) portal that had opened in their realm. At first they found themselves in a small room filled with darkness and putrid air. But once they crawled through a hole in the ceiling and went outside, they saw a honeywagon parked nearby. Fairbank Sanitation, it said on the side.

Jakpep turned to his counterpart. “You know, given all our flaws, I always thought we got dumped on.”

Justin Holley said...

During moments of fugue, his mind wandered—sometimes he sat back home, other times still in the honeywagon. Odd name for it, he thought. Maybe bloodwagon, slaughterwagon, something like that would serve better. Adam Fairbank shivered as more of his blood leaked out, dripped from the slats down onto the scorching desert.

Buzzards circled overhead—pivotal to the food chain he supposed.

“Pull him off the stake.” The command came from somewhere just outside. “Let the buzzards finish him off.”

Waves of indignation coursed through Adam. Sure he had flaws, but nobody deserved this—cut up and left to die.

k.henry08 said...

Emily Johnson had made up her mind. She would marry him. He wasn't perfect, but he was the best she'd had. "I know a lot's at stake," she told her stunned roommate, "but for all his flaws, belive it or not, the pivotal thing is that he overlooks all of mine, and calls me his honeywagon. He says it's because I'm so sweet!" Emily looked intently at her friend. "For someone like me, who's gone through a fairbank of men who've done nothing but find fault with me....that's exactly what I need."

Erica Chapman said...

This was fun, thanks!

“What’s a honeywagon?”

Gertie laughed, looking up in the air, thinking. “It’s a… huh. I think that’s what my mom calls my dad.”

Jack winced. “TMI Gert.”

She leafed through the pages of a nearby dictionary, scanning the page with her polished finger. “Hmm let’s see, flaws, honey. Oh.” She stopped. “Ew. You don’t wanna know.”

Jack cocked his head to the side.

“Alright, Fairbank. It carries crap. Why?”

“Thought so.”

“Okaay. I hate to ask.”

“It’s pivotal to my domination of the Earth; a lot’s at stake.”


“Yep. I’m going to spread crap around the world.”

“You’re too late.”

Elise Vanderport said...

When I married Nathan Fairbank Honeywagon, I had no idea that his mother would be such a nightmare. She’d seemed normal at the wedding except for the wailing that I’d thought was sentimentality. Later I learned it was about me. So I have a few flaws. I like my wine every morning, work as a stripper, and spell “steak” like “stake” (or is it the other way around?). Those things aren’t pivotal in a marriage. It’s wrong that Mrs. Honeywagon keeps sending divorce lawyers our way, including her husband. I think she’s just jealous that I’m sleeping with him too.

loriweeks said...

I can take or leave the obituaries, but I always check out the want ads. You can find some crazy crap in there.

Wanted, stakes.
Vampire slayer requires
large number of wooden stakes.
New or used.
Call 555-5555

Wanted, Fair Bank.
Experienced Meth dealer
in need of small business loan.
Excellent return on investment
Call 666-6666

And then, the ad that would prove to be a pivotal point in my career.

For Sale, Honeywagon.
Fixer-upper with numerous flaws.
Excellent business opportunity.
Nose plugs included.
Call 777-7777

I quit my job on the spot. I’d always wanted my own business.

wolfman141 said...

He had destroyed my happiness. Death was too good for George Fairbank. Technically, he was dead already. Driving a stake through his heart was too quick. Other punishments had their own flaws. After tracking the monster to his lair, I considered my options. There was little time: sunset was approaching. The pivotal moment came when I spotted a honeywagon moving its load from a nearby construction site. A hundred dollars convinced the driver to let me borrow the vehicle. I ran the effluent pipe down into Fairbank’s coffin and covered his ancient form. Eat shit and live, you blood-sucking scumbag!

Valerie said...

Sara slipped over the cliff, fingers bleeding. Searchlights pierced the night. The frayed rope jolted, threatening to pull from the metal stake wedged between rocks. She bit her lip.

Fairbank is an anagram, the machine voice had warned. Brian Kaf is traitor.

Moonlight blazed across the blanket of sea, a path of icy silver fading into the vanquished horizon. Sara felt the black tide rage against weather-beaten rocks, each thudding wave a reminder of the flaws in Brian's plan.

The Honeywagon, the last pivotal stronghold of resistance, destroyed in minutes by naval attack. Was she the last human alive?

Robin Ruinsky said...

Nothing less than true love was at stake during this pivotal moment in the lives of William and Ben. Up until now their flaws had been artfully hidden under layers of designer fashions.
Fearful of being merely ordinary they’d left the flesh beneath their well tailored clothing a mystery. Clothes discarded, even the dark couldn’t disguise what could be discovered by touch.
Ideally love should be truth conquering artifice. Their reality was quite different. Ben wanted to be a Mercedes Benz, not a honey wagon. William yearned to be New York City, not Fairbank, Iowa.

Madison said...

“I found her dead in the honeywagon!”

Despite it being the most pivotal event in the filming of ‘Blazing Saddles’ remake in a ghost town Fairbank, Arizona most of the crew was not surprised.
The movie star’s flaws were well known to them: alcohol, addiction to drugs and laxatives.

With her Hollywood legacy at stake and the consequent closing of the set, the crew decided to spend the extra time staging a car accident that was supposed to take place in the desert.
This is when the things really took turn for worse…

Katharine Roberts said...

Fairbanks was no place for a woman. Least ways, that's an idea Lester always subscribed to, until the honeywagon showed up. Then all hell broke loose. Woman driver toting porta-potties no less, and quite a honey herself. Lester's manhood was at stake. Couldn't find her flaws, after lambasting females for 37 years. She could pump it out, knock 'em back and still shoot dead straight. “Pivotal time for Lester, real pivotal,” we all said. Even so, I nearly fell over when, come Monday, the honey and her potties hit the road, and Lester right alongside 'em.

RBSHoo said...

The assassin chuckled softly as he considered his choice of weapons.

"Certainly," the candidate said, her husband lurking nearby, bored by the sameness of the campaign trail. "I have flaws. Like all people. But there's too much at stake in this election! Too many people watched their savings disappear.”

A blur caught his eye, seemingly accelerating as it rolled from his right to his left. His blood turned cold. It was a small red vehicle, a throwback to his childhood, and it was loaded with dynamite. He leapt up.

"It's pivotal that we bring fair bank-“

"Honey! Wagon!"

Christine said...

Everyone has flaws, but finding out Devin Fairbank referred to his Mustang as ‘The Honeywagon’ was just too much. She could not go out with him. Sure, he was captain of the football team and had the abs of a god, but that didn’t make up for the car.

This was it. The pivotal moment which would determine the rest of Evany’s junior year. Date Devin and stake her claim with the popular crowd, or turn him down and hope her social life survived the fallout.

Mike D said...

Tuesday Morning Hot Girl - wearing shoes red like Dean’s jacket, channeling Wood circa Rebel. She boarded Fairbank’s honeywagon of a bus; her stake-long stems stabbing with each step. The bus continued to suck up rush hour.

She grabbed the rail I held. She turned, asked if I had a tissue. Of all my flaws, lacking essentials was not one.

The pivotal moment. I handed her two tissues and said, “in case you have another bout of rhinorrhea.”

Yeah, I know.

Hot Girl shot a cold stare.

I must say my delivery was rather smooth, if utterly criminal.

Terri Coop said...

I looked at his dead face as I slammed the hatch of the minivan he’d sneeringly called "The Honey Wagon." I was his honey as long as I understood what was at stake and "yes-deared" every crazy thing he did or said.

Until he passed the pivotal point of no return. I knew one of his flaws was leaving the toilet seat up. This time was one time too many.

As I drove to the woods, I saw him, wrapped in green leaf bags, in my rear view mirror.

"Sorry Honey, life isn’t fair . . . bank on it."

Vincent Kale said...

Shopping List:

“Hey Honey? Wa’ gon’ to market soon, reckon?”

“Soon as I fix this here...blasted…tire…damnit! Snapped a lugnut. Well if that don’t peeve it all…”

“You put too much uh’ ‘ar money into that rust bucket already.”

“’Ar money? I’m the only one what works ‘round here!”

“Well now that ain’t fair! Bank’s got all my inher’tance tied up in legal troubles.”

“It ain’t legal troubles, it’s them no-good, scofflaws you got fer’ cousins what took your money!”

“Enough fuss. Take me to market!”

“Oh I’ll take ya to market, alright. Might trade ya in for a younger model.”

YANG Soldier said...

Trevor Fairbank chuckled as Louisa Mae drove up in her Dad’s beat-up station wagon. The guys called it the “honeywagon”. If Daddy only knew. He’d caught the pivotal pass tonight in their game against rival Southeast High, placing him first in line for Louisa Mae’s affections. Louisa always let the star of the game go first. The sad thing about Louisa was how she thought they really liked her. Low intelligence; one of her many flaws. He fingered the paper wrapper in his pocket. No way was he gonna stake his pro future on the old “pull out”.

martintj said...

“Millie is it? Wow, the agency sent you in costume,” the man extended his hand to a woman dressed for 1890. She didn’t return the gesture, but stared at him solemnly.
“Couldn’t get the honeywagon out here, but this location is pivotal. I found an actual stake from the Southern Pacific railroad.”
Fairbank Arizona was the perfect ghost town for a low-budget film. Even the flaws in the buildings helped create a dire atmosphere.
“Mr. Blakemore?”
He swung around to face an actress with a script.
“Who were you talking to?”
He turned back, but the ghostly woman was gone.

Jacqui said...

“Sit yer honeywagon down right here,” Chip slurred, an ashed-out cigarette dangling from his lower lip. I swallowed my revulsion. I could bear his flaws only so long.

Pivotal. Don’t forget he’s pivotal, I thought. “Be respectful, Chip," I cooed, forcing a smile and brushing my fingers up his thigh. “I’ve got a stake in this, too.”

His eyes widened and the cigarette hit the crotch of his jeans. “Hot damn, Elsa!” He hollered, brushing frantically at the burning ash. “Mr. Fairbank here any minute and you gettin me all bothered!”

Enjoy it, I thought. You won't be bothered long.

Dynamic Equilibrium said...

There is a lot of irony built into the English language. Those who fail to see the humor may consider this characteristic one of the language’s flaws. My roommate’s wide grin indicated he did not share this opinion. Patterson grew up on a farm outside Fairbank, Indiana. He told boring stories about corn and pigs. It pained his dad when he moved west to stake a claim in movies. I was the first to land a job in the industry, a pivotal ‘location management’ position. “You’re jealous,” I said. He wasn’t. Turns out driving the honeywagon is a shit job.

Cindy R. Williams said...

The horrific catalwalling began again at midnight and lasted five minutes at the most. It seemed a life time to Jasper. He knew his life was at stake. Whatever flaws he had, and he had many, he certainly didn’t deserve to die here in this dusty old ghost town in Fairbanks, Arizona.
Sweat trickled down the back of his neck as a low rumble of the honeywagon inched toward him. Hold still, stay quiet. It can’t find me here. He tightened every muscle ready to bolt at the pivotal moment. Closer and closer it crept as his nerves sizzled.

Josip said...

Rupert was wrong. Dying in honeywagon crash was not the worst way to die.
His career at Fairbank’s studio from driver to owner of a majority stake was just as impeccable as his custom-made suit was minutes ago. His only pivotal flaws were: drugs, booze, women and blood drops trickling from his belly through his fingers.

He instinctively tried to move his tie away from harm.

“Give me the role!”

“You ain’t aggressive enough to play Xena.”

Mesmerized by shiny blade, he couldn’t stop watching blade bury deep into his chest.

Much better than at audition, were his last thoughts.

Rhyanna said...

Aneisha plans to stake a place for the parade and fireworks. It has flaws though. Christian, a boy she likes points out a few pivotal areas.

Excited, the kids setup their small camp tents, at a pristine route in Fairbank.
Perplexed, they hear an older man talk about a honey wagon.
“Excuse me.” Aneisha said, pushed to the fore by the others. “Can you tell me what a honey wagon is?”
“It’s a port a potty.”
“Oh.” Then she whispered, “I think I’ll wait until a shop opens.”
“Good luck.” The old man laughed.
“still I’ll wait.” The kids replied.

John Haggerty said...

He rolls in at midnight, stops the conversation like a cardiac arrest, smooth fairbank suit, hair slick and without flaws, a honeywagon on his arm who witches all of those men into dogs. The filthy prospecting rubes down from their gold-dry stakes up in the hills, the knifey thieves and grifters from town, everyone just stares, as he picks up the dice, and though it’s not his turn, whispers, “One pivotal roll, who’s in.” They lay their pennies down like penitents, and then he’s gone, and they are laid clean, like infants washed in the blood of the lamb.

Valeriebrbr said...

“You’re no fairbank.”
“Wutever. My IQ’d squash your tiny score any day. I’d stake my life on it.” replied the gangly, pimpled teen, keeping his gaze locked on the gory video game.
“Spell it.”
“Wut?” he asked, disinterested.
“Pssh - S…t…e…a…k.”
Chloe rose to leave. “It’s most apparent that your personality flaws inhibit your ability to be tutored.”
“You think I care’f you go?”
“Not at all.” She smiled sweetly. “But you’ll be on my doorstep honey, wagon your tail before nightfall, if you want to graduate. This exam is pivotal.” She added and closed the door behind her.

trishaleigh said...

I prepared to stake my claim in Oregon when I heard Josef holler. “Hey Fairbank, here comes another wagon!”

I turned, squinted into the rising sun. This was my day, a pivotal day. Party crashers not welcome.

The wagon crested the hill and I corrected Josef. “Don't look like a plain wagon to me. I’d call it a honeywagon.”

Because that wagon was full up with women. Flaws not included.

I figured staking my claim could wait after all. I'd just been thinking how much nicer Oregon would be with a Mrs. Fairbank to cook my squirrel.

Hali Halo said...

The boat creeps around the corner. Cannonballs explode behind me. They always just miss their mark. Well, not always, I remember when I was six. Water splashes on my arm.

It was nearing that pivotal moment.

“Come one, come all to Fairbank’s Honeywagon,” the pirate growled. “These lasses have no flaws. Come and stake yer claims. And now you benchrats, do I hear six? It’s not your rum I want, it’s your gold.”

I love seeing the lady in red, right below the Auction sign.

The song plays in the distance. Yo ho, yo ho . . .

Matt Kelsey said...

“Honeywagon!” he yelled up the stairs. “I’m leavin’.”
Haley jogged to the steps and peered down.
“Where ya goin?”
“The OTB. I have a stake in a race.”
She sighed. “I thought you were givin’ it up.”
“But it’s a sure thing. Bleary Shark is the favorite, but I got a tip about this new pony named Fairbank.”
They both knew it was a pivotal moment. If Fairbank won, they’d be okay for a while. If Fairbank lost, Andrew wouldn’t be coming home.
He turned to leave.
“I love you,” Haley whispered to his back. “Despite your flaws.”

John M. Poindexter said...

It was a pivotal turn in our relationship. Her flaws were enough for me to think about sending her to Fairbank for the winter.

Instead, I told her that I would drive a stake into her honeywagon if she screwed around with any other man.

She said, “Oh baby, you’re the only man for me.”

HollyAnn said...

“Are you ready to go, Honeywagon?” Mark asked as the opened the bathroom door. I couldn’t stand it when he called me that. “I don’t want have to drive when it’s dark outside.”

“Yeah, I’ll be out in a minute,” I said as I looked at my face in the mirror one last time. I hated how my flaws were most visible in the morning light. Leaving Fairbank felt like a stake in the heart. It was the only place I’d ever lived, but I knew my life needed to make a pivotal turn.

Veronika said...

The sharp smell of piss assailed his nostrils. Cold weather diminishes strong smells. That's why women wear stronger parfume in the winter. Heavier, sweeter, yet more fleeting the second the icy wind whisks it away. Fairbank felt pressure building in his heart.

"They're coming" he thought to himself.

Hunched down into his shawl, like a turtle, he turned his body. The plastic door of a battered honeywagon hung open. What happened to the pissoirs?

He gripped the stake. The pivotal moment in his life was descending. Too late he realized, he was holding a steak. That was a flaw. Damn.

Kemari said...

The air was so cold that my breath swelled before me in small clouds. I hunched behind the honeywagon, hoping the noxious smell would mask my scent.

When I’d heard they were shooting a vampire flick in Fairbanks, I thought it’d be a pivotal step for my Make-up Artist career. I had no idea the vampires would turn out to be real. Luckily, vampires really did have flaws.

I gripped the wooden stake harder, ready for battle. The movie set (and spotlights) were a hundred yards away. If I could just make it to the set, I’d survive this nightmare.

Tomara Armstrong said...

Tina stood on the fairbank biting her fingernails, "What's at stake here, Romi? I mean this plan of yours has flaws. I don't wanna get caught."

“Chill out, Tina. No one’s gonna see. You just wait until Argus makes his daily deposit… about 10:30. Just push it over.”

“Why don’t you do it then, if it’s so easy?”

“Can’t… I have to be on set, and 10:30 is the pivotal moment. Please do this for me,” Romi begged giving Tina puppy dog eyes.

“Fine,” Tina huffed. “Why’s it called a honeywagon anyway?”

“Honey colored poo juice.”

“Oh,” Tina shrugged.

Shauna said...

“I can’t lie anymore, there’s so much at stake.”

“He’s a fairbank, irresistable, no one says no to him.”

Even that, she knew, was a lie. There were flaws from the beginning. The pivotal point came when he’d seen the Camaro. “Now that’s a honeywagon” he’d slurred the words. “I gotta get me one of those!” In that moment ,she could see the girls that would slide through their future.

He ceased to entice, but if she said no now, he’d kill her. If not, she’d want to kill herself.

“I’m saying no now.” fatal flaws.

“He’ll kill you.”


Leona said...

Victoria slammed her knee into his chest at the same time she drove the stake into his heart. There'd be hell to pay in Fairbanks, but she didn't care. Caring about other's opinion wasn't one of her flaws. Her leather-clad body rose from the ashes, the bloody wood in her hand.

If a man wanted to treat her like she'd just fallen off the honeywagon, then he'd better be ready for the fallout. She'd been instrumental in getting him the presidency in the pivotal vampire elections. He'd been diddling the aid on the side. She smiled. Not anymore.

Toby Neal said...

Despondent, I scrolled through Craigslist. Jobs were scarce, and there was a lot at stake for me. I turned to my faithful pug, Fairbank, a hound of dubious intelligence and other, worse flaws.
"We've got to find something soon, buddy."
Fairbank was not impressed. Food was pivotal in his priorities, but the connection between job and food was too abstract for him to follow. He sneezed, and it was a wet one unfortunately. I wiped my foot on the carpet and read on. "Here's one. 'Honey Wagon hiring for Construction Sites. Must have own Rubber Rainwear.' Looks interesting, and I like construction workers." I fiddled with my belly button ring. I wasn't sure what a honey wagon was but I'd been called a honeypot before, so I was sure to get the job. "Let's get going, I've got some thigh high vinyl boots to get on."

Monica E. Spence said...

“There goes the honeywagon. Thank god. With so many folks here, it’s pivotal to have more than a handful of port-o-castles scattered across the campground. Who planned this event?” Nick ambled toward the newly cleaned plastic outhouse.

“Don’t know, but he had major flaws in logic. Burnin’ at the stake’s too good for him.” Paul the Pirate lifted the patch over his perfect blue eye and rubbed his eyelid. “Let’s make him walk the plank.”

Nick snorted. “Walk the plank? Here in Fairbank, Iowa?”

“I may be between ships, Nick, but it never hurts to practice piratin’, ya know.”


Reena Jacobs said...

Sarah Fairbank raced down the dirt path, tripping over the flaws in the terrain. Her stomach cramped, forcing her to double over. She barely managed to stay upright, but the evil cackle behind her urged her forward.
Her brow beaded with sweat even as a chilled coursed through her. She pressed on; there was too much at stake to do otherwise. The gurgle which came next, told her she’d reach a pivotal moment. She glanced back at the smirking girl holding the box of laxatives. Sarah would have her revenge. But first she had to make it to the honeywagon.