amine_eyes (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
amine_eyes) wrote2010-03-19 06:34 pm
amine_eyes) wrote2010-03-19 06:34 pm
Entry tags:
What to do with a broken flower pot
Woah I am FULL of writing this week!
After writing the Bones / Vaako epic, I desperately needed some cracky fluff, and I remembered that me, Shona and Lorna have had a writing challenge over the last couple of weeks, and I hadn't got round to writing mine, simply becuase this Bones / Vaako epic took all of my creative space like the greedy people they are xD
Half an hour later, one beta - and have a crack fic - which is ORIGINAL FICTION! WTF! I can write stuff that's NOT fanfiction? What is the world coming to ... xD
the challenge involved 2 girls and a boy, length 2 pages, had to be comedy / drama, and involve a flower pot about five inches high .
“You’re so dead.”
“Hang on, why am I the dead one?”
“’Cos I said so.”
Walking through the kitchen doors, I just stood, looking at the sheer devastation in front of me. Flour, pasta sauce and dirt splattered the floors, walls – was that cheese on the ceiling??? – dishes lay scattered like the wounded and dead after a bombing, and in front of me stood Kim and George, arms held out in panic, hands full of shards of pottery.
I felt my eyebrow twitch.
“If I was to even ask what has happened here, what … would be the answer?”
If the twins’ faces could pale even more, they did so, looking at each other before George spoke nervously.
“Well … which version would you like to hear? The boring one or the one where a dinosaur came to enter the kitchen and we only had a few seconds before it annihilated Earth?”
Kim spoke up; luckily saving me from losing the last shred of self-control I had left.
“Erm … we were going to make you breakfast in bed you see … you know, on account of it being Mother’s Day. So we started making cheese on toast -”
“But Kim ate the last of the bread last night, so we decided to make our own bread -”
“Which was really hard ‘cos the mixture fell out twice, and the flour packet exploded ‘cos George threw it across the room -”
“And then we decided pizza would be even better so we got on the chair to get the pasta sauce to put on top only I slipped and it fell on the saucepan rack but we figured we could get the glass out without causing it to fall over -”
“But it didn’t work ‘cos the pans slipped and then we weren’t sure about whether the cheese was safe so George threw it up to show it was and it stuck to the ceiling -”
“Most of it came off though with the broom handle, it’s just that bit which is fighting back -”
“So then we decided that coffee in bed would be easier to do but I slipped on the washing up liquid and the coffee spilled in your flowerpot -”
“And I thought we could get it out without putting any of the dirt in your coffee ‘cos I mean dirt and coffee are different shades of brown -”
“but we couldn’t hold the sieve steady without losing grip on the flowerpot, so then we thought about putting it through the food-processor and adding loads of sugar so you couldn’t taste the dirt but we slipped and the pot broke and we may have processed the lily that Dad gave to you for your wedding anniversary -”
“But it’s ok ‘cos we’ve saved up enough cash to buy COD6, so we’ll buy a new lily, but we were still trying to salvage this so we were trying to work out where to hide the flowerpot shards until we could buy a new one -”
“And George thought of hiding them in your hatbox but I said that was a stupid idea because that would mean going into your room and we needed to hide them without you knowing -”
“So Kim suggested putting them in the rubbish bin, but we can’t do that without wrapping them in newspaper as they could pierce the bag and give the bin-men a nasty blood disease -”
“YOU’RE a nasty blood disease George; we would have been fine cos we could put them with the glass that we broke -”
“It’s terracotta not glass! It’s not recyclable!”
“Well at least I had an idea better than running away to Timbuktu leaving a note saying how we were abducted by the aliens off Futurama!”
“Dude! Don’t diss the people from Omicron-Persai-8! They look like mini-Godzillas!”
“When I’m through with beating your head in George you’ll look like Godzilla you imbecile!”
“Imbecile? You’re the one who wanted to do a home-made Mother’s Day gift instead of just buying chocolates and flowers like last year!”
“Well sorry for actually CARING about our mother!”
At this their voices died off, and they looked at me. My eyebrow was twitching like mad, my hands were clenching into fists, and they quailed, edging away slightly.
“Erm … Happy Mother’s Day?”
“I. Give. Up. I am going back to bed; you … things will clean the ENTIRE house before I come back down.”
“But mum!”
“Did you or did you not just TRASH my kitchen and my wedding anniversary gift?”
Silence.
“I thought so. Now get moving.”
I left, stomping my way upstairs. Next year I was booking a spa trip away from my family for the weekend.
After writing the Bones / Vaako epic, I desperately needed some cracky fluff, and I remembered that me, Shona and Lorna have had a writing challenge over the last couple of weeks, and I hadn't got round to writing mine, simply becuase this Bones / Vaako epic took all of my creative space like the greedy people they are xD
Half an hour later, one beta - and have a crack fic - which is ORIGINAL FICTION! WTF! I can write stuff that's NOT fanfiction? What is the world coming to ... xD
the challenge involved 2 girls and a boy, length 2 pages, had to be comedy / drama, and involve a flower pot about five inches high .
“You’re so dead.”
“Hang on, why am I the dead one?”
“’Cos I said so.”
Walking through the kitchen doors, I just stood, looking at the sheer devastation in front of me. Flour, pasta sauce and dirt splattered the floors, walls – was that cheese on the ceiling??? – dishes lay scattered like the wounded and dead after a bombing, and in front of me stood Kim and George, arms held out in panic, hands full of shards of pottery.
I felt my eyebrow twitch.
“If I was to even ask what has happened here, what … would be the answer?”
If the twins’ faces could pale even more, they did so, looking at each other before George spoke nervously.
“Well … which version would you like to hear? The boring one or the one where a dinosaur came to enter the kitchen and we only had a few seconds before it annihilated Earth?”
Kim spoke up; luckily saving me from losing the last shred of self-control I had left.
“Erm … we were going to make you breakfast in bed you see … you know, on account of it being Mother’s Day. So we started making cheese on toast -”
“But Kim ate the last of the bread last night, so we decided to make our own bread -”
“Which was really hard ‘cos the mixture fell out twice, and the flour packet exploded ‘cos George threw it across the room -”
“And then we decided pizza would be even better so we got on the chair to get the pasta sauce to put on top only I slipped and it fell on the saucepan rack but we figured we could get the glass out without causing it to fall over -”
“But it didn’t work ‘cos the pans slipped and then we weren’t sure about whether the cheese was safe so George threw it up to show it was and it stuck to the ceiling -”
“Most of it came off though with the broom handle, it’s just that bit which is fighting back -”
“So then we decided that coffee in bed would be easier to do but I slipped on the washing up liquid and the coffee spilled in your flowerpot -”
“And I thought we could get it out without putting any of the dirt in your coffee ‘cos I mean dirt and coffee are different shades of brown -”
“but we couldn’t hold the sieve steady without losing grip on the flowerpot, so then we thought about putting it through the food-processor and adding loads of sugar so you couldn’t taste the dirt but we slipped and the pot broke and we may have processed the lily that Dad gave to you for your wedding anniversary -”
“But it’s ok ‘cos we’ve saved up enough cash to buy COD6, so we’ll buy a new lily, but we were still trying to salvage this so we were trying to work out where to hide the flowerpot shards until we could buy a new one -”
“And George thought of hiding them in your hatbox but I said that was a stupid idea because that would mean going into your room and we needed to hide them without you knowing -”
“So Kim suggested putting them in the rubbish bin, but we can’t do that without wrapping them in newspaper as they could pierce the bag and give the bin-men a nasty blood disease -”
“YOU’RE a nasty blood disease George; we would have been fine cos we could put them with the glass that we broke -”
“It’s terracotta not glass! It’s not recyclable!”
“Well at least I had an idea better than running away to Timbuktu leaving a note saying how we were abducted by the aliens off Futurama!”
“Dude! Don’t diss the people from Omicron-Persai-8! They look like mini-Godzillas!”
“When I’m through with beating your head in George you’ll look like Godzilla you imbecile!”
“Imbecile? You’re the one who wanted to do a home-made Mother’s Day gift instead of just buying chocolates and flowers like last year!”
“Well sorry for actually CARING about our mother!”
At this their voices died off, and they looked at me. My eyebrow was twitching like mad, my hands were clenching into fists, and they quailed, edging away slightly.
“Erm … Happy Mother’s Day?”
“I. Give. Up. I am going back to bed; you … things will clean the ENTIRE house before I come back down.”
“But mum!”
“Did you or did you not just TRASH my kitchen and my wedding anniversary gift?”
Silence.
“I thought so. Now get moving.”
I left, stomping my way upstairs. Next year I was booking a spa trip away from my family for the weekend.