loblolly (Margaret S. Hamilton)
Someone is going to have to explain Steve Forti's answer to me. He's thwarted me completely this week.
Oh wait, now I get it.
Too clever by half Mr.Forti.
CarolynnWith2Ns you just crack me up
Uncompliant, you're giving people very bad ideas! I'm now afraid of my freezer.
Here are the entries that packed a wallop for one reason or another
“Your daughters got your ex-wife’s eyes, sergeant.”
“Ain’t that the fucking rub.”
“Well, luckily, the genetic defect doesn’t run in your family.”
“Like I said Doc…I’ll get you the money and the eyes. Just be ready, I’ll see to it.”
“You’re just staying with Aunt Susy tonight.”
“You get some sleep; I love you kitten.”
I drove home crying.
After chambering a round, I dialed 911 and thought.
“I knew I would find my joie de vivre, but had no money on it being dependent on the payout of my own life insurance policy.”
Ok so that one landed right on the heartstrings.
Where There's A Quill
(Prompt credit: french sojourn)
I had curly hair, she had straight. Her straightness always made it easy to tell us apart. Straight As. Straight arrow. Straight to Stanford.
Straight over when I drunk-dialed again. She was all new pumps, old pity, and I decided she'd stolen my happiness somehow, sucked up my half when we'd shared a womb. She wasn't my twin; she was my tumor.
But hating her wouldn't fix things. I needed to straighten up.
I knew I would find my joie de vivre, but had no money on it being dependent on the payout of my own life insurance policy.
And isn't it interesting to see another writer use the exact same prompt and come up with something so different in both content and tone!
(LippLibs entry by Terri Lynn Coop)
I knew I would find my joie de vivre, but had no money on finding it at a table in a Chinese restaurant on a rain-soaked side street in Paris. He walked in.I loved this because of course Lynn lives in Paris. The real one.
I spoke English, he, French. No matter, we spoke in other ways.
I loved jazz, he, rock. So? We both loved music.
I, vegetarian, he, carnivorous — we dined together.
I loved dancing, he didn't, but that night we danced.
I worship one way, he another. Nonetheless, we both believe in God.
Thirty years later we're still together because in Paris, Texas you take what you can get.
I knew I would find my joie de vivre, but had no money on under the big top dressed as a clown.The writing on this is so good it just takes my breath away.
Winter feasts on the homeless. Just as January relented, releasing its icy grip, February blew through and bitch-slapped me. Seeing countless friends frozen drove a renewed desperation to escape the streets.
The paper stapled to a pole reeked of suspect salvation.
"Fun! Laughs! Oversized shoes! A red honking nose!"
I passed the audition with flying (trapeze) colors, and settled into the unexpected.
Thus began my career as the man-toy of a plus-size contortionist with an Emmett Kelly fetish.
I knew I would find my joie de vivre, but had no money on under the big top dressed as a clown. The charity organizer had been very persuasive. My own mother didn’t recognize me.
Hans was in the adjacent ring, a shriveled and scarred tiger tamer. The circus was the only family he’d ever known, but he’d be homeless if he didn’t perform.
I took him away from all that. I sent Hans to live with my grandfather, where they spend their days trading war stories. And the tigers? Now they work for me. My name is Charlie…
And again, same exact prompt, two utterly different stories.
And this cracked me up completely, of course.
I knew I would find my joie de vivre, but had no money on finding it at Dollywood with my sons and nephew looking on.
It’s always been me and little Andy, but no more nine to five for me. Jolene from two doors down told me about the gig. Two Walmart bouncy balls and I could lip sync to fool any Romeo; gel insoles for my stiletto red shoes help me make it through the night.
I’m no dumb blond or backwoods Barbie. I will always love you, but I’m not coming back.
But....no....here you come again, Dumplin!
Unless you know the Dolly catalog this might not seem as brilliant as it is.
“What’s this?” he asked when he saw the freshly painted walls.Of course I loved this! It's about painting!
“It ‘s the chic new color.”
“Those shows! Blood red walls, deconstructed meatloaf. It’ll take five coats to cover it!”
He was wrong.
“It’s Musty Merlot. We’ll light candles, it’ll be like we’re in France.”
He perked up at the sound of that. He remembered France.
Two weeks later he was dead from food poisoning.
I knew I would find my joie de vivre but had no money on it being after the seventh coat of Misty Moonlight finally covering the incredibly ill-thought-out Musty Merlot on my bedroom ceiling.
John Davis Frain
(Prompt courtesy of Casual-T, who won’t admit it but has the same story.)
In the eighties, before I’d ever heard the term “bucket list,” I had an annual “joie de vivre list.” On January 1, I’d write ten things to accomplish by December 31. I've never completed all ten.The prompt cracked me up. This story just made me laugh harder.
2018 looked bleak. Six for ten when December arrived. I moved no closer by Christmas.
But New Year’s Eve, I passed a grizzly bear climbing to the summit of Mt. McKinley before gawking at the Northern Lights … when a kid offered to tattoo a shamrock on my butt.
For fifty bucks.
I knew I would find my joie de vivre but had no money.
(Prompt courtesy of Where There's A Quill)
I knew I would find my joie de vivre, but had no money on my wife being so supportive of the journey. When I told her I was setting out to find myself, she was so excited she even paid for the plane ticket and packed my bags.I loved the prompt, the story just made it better. Another pair to watch out for!
-The look on her face when I flashed the companion ticket!
Tragically, my dreams shattered: she checked into a sanitarium for a sudden, mysterious illness.
-Her face when I lovingly checked in next door!
“Happy?” I later tapped on the wall.
-She pounded and howled back, but I understood her meaning.
(Prompt courtesy of John Davis Frain)
We told our son we’d married in ’96; it was actually ’97 but changing one little number saved us some big questions about legitimacy.this is just perfection on toast points.
Our friends asked about Jackson when he moved away. What school did he attend? What about his career? We told them he went to Yale (Jay’s Bartending School For Ale - the letters are there). He was planning on taking the bar (-tending job at Friday’s).
Last year, my wife left me. I still wear my ring; classy ladies love widowers.
I knew I would find my joie de vivre, but had no money on “editing.”
6, 12, 18, 22, 34, 48
Eight million bucks. Only one winner the news said.
Bloody right only one winner.
He put food on the table.
What’d the missus do? Sat on her fat arse lookin’ after the kids.
Stupid bitch bought the ticket with his money.
Now she wanted a share. Half she said. No fuckin’ chance.
He tipped the powder into her glass.
Reached down for the whisky.
Didn’t see the funnel web.
I knew I would find my joie de vivre, but had no money on it being a spider bite.It says nothing good about me that I find this utterly hilarious.
(LippLibs entry by DH)
I knew I would find my joie de vivre, but had no money on a successful career as a coroner.
Dead hearts. Dead eyes. Dead lives.
Some people would say that it’s too morbid, too macabre.
But there’s something about looking into the faces of the lost and knowing the truth.
Knowing a secret.
Because dead men tell no tales, not even to the one who heard their voices last.
oh man oh man oh man, Very subtle.
There is no way to have one winner here.
All of these are outstanding, each in their own way.
But, after reading these over a couple times, it's clear to me that Mallory Love, John Davis Frain and Casual-T wrote great prompts and/or great stories.
All three are our winners this week!
Mallory, send me your preferred mailing address and what you like to read. Casual-T I've got your address from the previous contest and JDF, just let me know if you've moved since the last time I signed you up for Puppy of the Month Club.
Thanks to all of you who took the time to enter both contests.
It was a hoot to read them all.