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  Dani's Shorts 2

  (A collection of short stories based on the elements from The Iron Writer Challenge)

  Volume 2

  by

  Dani J Caile

  PUBLISHED BY:

  ISBN: 9781310891472

  Dani's Shorts 2

  Copyright © 2014 by Dani J Caile

  Blogs & Websites

  https://danijcaile.blogspot.hu/

  All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © Dani J Caile 2014

  Table of Contents

  Preface / Acknowledgement

  27 - Loser

  28 - The Troubles

  29 - The Hunchback of Little Piddly Town

  30 - Not a usual Saturday

  31 - The curse

  32 - The Big 'No-no'

  Autumn Equinox Open Elimination Round - Reynold's last laugh

  Autumn Equinox Final - Miley Cyrus?

  33 - Grandpa

  34 - Got him back

  Grudge Match 1 - 60 seconds

  35 - Fat bird

  36 - Two's a crowd, three's company

  37 - Deranged

  38 - A Complete Git

  39 - Like father…

  40 (Grudge 2) - The Hungry Shark

  41 - Strange Awakening

  42 (Grudge 3) - Damn Injun

  43 - 2456 - A Space Pomposity

  44 - The trouble with twins

  45 - Winter Equinox Open Elimination Round - Selfish Little Monkeys

  46 - So close

  47 - Winter Equinox Open Final- Marital Strife

  48 - A Eulogy for Suzie Wobblebottom?

  49 - Muppet Respect

  49 - One in a Million (the story entered on TIW)

  50 - Never again

  51 (Grudge 4) - Tunktan eh Lamar

  Only for my loval smiploff (nonsense poetry)

  52 - Mon 'anime'

  Weekend Quickie 1 - Bradán, the moaning sod

  Weekend Quickie 2 - Lunch with Austen

  Weekend Quickie 3 - Three or more

  Weekend Quickie 4 - Two-timing bitch

  Weekend Quickie 5 - Samples needed

  Weekend Quickie 6 - We're going to die

  Weekend Quickie 7 - Grandma's favourite nephew

  Weekend Quickie 8 - Dog in Snow

  Weekend Quickie 9 - Lifesaver

  Weekend Quickie 10 - Here comes the choo-choo train

  Weekend Quickie 11 - Just what did little Tim do?

  Weekend Quickie 12 - Memories

  Weekend Quickie 13 - Revisited

  12 Days of Christmas (Weekend Quickie Special)

  Weekend Quickie 16 - Nicked in time

  Weekend Quickie 17 - For Love

  Weekend Quickie 18 - Exquisite pain

  Weekend Quickie 19 - Cowboy Frolics

  Weekend Quickie 20 - Naughty Mrs. Mibbley

  Weekend Quickie 21 - The Power of Love

  Weekend Quickie 22 - The urge to tell

  Weekend Quickie 23 - Artistic Ideal

  Killing Brian - Cannibalising Brian (excerpt from 'How to')

  Relay Event T1 (Part 10)

  Relay Event T2 (Part 1) - 'The Pink Pineapple'

  List of elements for Challenges 27-52 (including Grudge Matches 1-4 and the Autumn & Winter Solstice Opens) and Weekend Quickies 1-23

  Other work by Dani J Caile

  Preface / Acknowledgement

  Yes, it's Volume 2 of TIW shorts! Yet another collection of totally pointless exactly 500 and exactly 200 word nonsense to entertain you while doing whatever you do when reading. For myself, it was a long and exciting year in The Iron Writer. It has become a part of my life now, every week waiting for the next group of elements to hit the site and dwelling on the story which could link them all together in the style of my choice. It's thanks to this challenge that I can say I never suffer from writer's block - touch wood.

  So what happened? There were 3 Opens, all of which I participated in due to my Challenge wins, narrowly missing winning the Autumn Open by 1 vote (348-349) but winning the Winter Open to get into the Annual Final, Grudge matches - I won Grudge 3, a mixture of facebook TIW chat and my thoughts on the USA and its indigenous peoples - and Weekend Quickies, a new 200 word Saturday free-for-all, including a '12 days of Christmas special' and a version of the end of 'The Road from Colonus' by EM Forster (WQ13) to name but one. I also wrote a quick 10 worder while discussing the explicit/implicit use of elements which includes all 4 in the challenge at the time - "He tutted as she stood there in a mini skirt." (Challenge 45).

  So here are my own personal takes on the second 6 months of the Iron Writer Challenge, including Challenges, Weekend Quickies, Grudge Matches and Solstice Opens - plus an excerpt of 'How to' killing Brian (Cannibalising Brian) and a slice from the first ever Relays. I hope you enjoy these short snippets just as much as you enjoyed Volume 1.

  Thanks again to Brian and all the other Iron Writers for making The Iron Writers phenomenon the success that it already is.

  If you are 'up to the Challenge', then go to...

  https://theironwriter.com/

  27 - Loser

  (Millennium Falcon, GI Joe Action figures, waffle iron, Slim Whitman)

  I tried to ignore him.

  "What's that then, sonny?"

  "It's the Millennium Falcon."

  He wasn't my father, only a long lost uncle who’d moved to Florida when my Dad was a kid. A nobody. Now this loser had come back with his new wife, incidentally from his old homeland, and was staying for a few weeks at ours. They'd left Florida because she was 'homesick'. Anyone could see that she wanted to spend his hard-earned dollars in a place where they meant something.

  "It looks like a UFO."

  "Yes, it's a spaceship used by Hans Solo in ‘Star Wars’."

  "Oh yes, really?"

  He didn't have a clue. Maybe he'd lived in the swamps of Florida.

  "Nice decals. Now, let's have a look here...any GI Joes?"

  "GI what? Oh, the movie. It's okay, but I prefer proper sci-fi."

  "Movie?"

  Didn't go to the cinema, either. Definitely the swamps.

  Mum called us down and we sat with the others for the usual breakfast gathering, now with our two new guests. My little sister was already halfway through her Cheerios. This loser uncle looked down at his plate.

  "Honey, what's this?"

  "It's toast, we usually eat toast for breakfast."

  He picked them up and studied them, slowly putting them back on the plate.

  "Do you have any waffles?"

  "Waffles? You'd like waffles? Sorry, we once had a waffle iron but it didn't last long and no one really liked them, anyway."

  "No waffles? Not even shop-bought?"

  "No, sorry. Would you like me to make you some pancakes? Normally, I only make them on Shrove Tuesday but seeing as..."

  "No, no, 'toast' will suffice, thank you. Don't need to trouble yourself."

  You already did, loser.

  After a quiet breakfast, broken by the crunching of dry cold toast, he moved into the living room. Mum motioned me to keep him company while the wife followed her into the kitchen. Man of the house. When I sat down on the sofa he was already searching through my Dad's old vinyl collection, blowing dust off covers and chuckling to himself.

  "No Sli
m Whitman, I see."

  "Slim who?"

  "Slim Whitman. Genius. Bigger than Elvis in his day."

  "Elvis?"

  Who were these people? He put the last vinyl back on the shelf with a shake of his head and sat opposite me in the chair, my Dad's chair. He surprised me by taking out an iPod.

  "Here, listen."

  Did I have to? Taking the headphones from him, I reluctantly put them on. I heard scratches, this was an old recording, but recognised it instantly, the haunting sound of a man...yodelling.

  "Hey! That's...that's..!"

  "Did you like it?"

  "That's the music they used to kill the Martians in 'Mars Attacks!'!"

  "Mars a what?"

  "Mars Attacks, the movie! I love that movie, it's so funny! They use this music to explode the Martian's brains!"

  "Are you sure a young boy like you should be watching movies like that?"

  This guy had just gone up a notch. Perhaps he wasn't such a loser.

  28 - The Troubles

  (goat powered washing machine, petri dish, fried green tomatoes, menacing stranger)

  "George?"

  "Mandy?"

  She couldn’t believe what she saw.

  "Is...is that really you?"

  She moved a step closer.

  "I...yes. How...?"

  "George!"

  She ran to him and desperately squeezed him, crushing his shoulders in a warm embrace.

  "Of all the people..."

  "I can't believe it."

  They stood there, in the empty, desolute destruction around them. What was once a thriving town was now in ruins.

  "I...come, come in."

  George beckoned her into his abode, a hidden warren among the derelict buildings and rubble.

  "This is just incredible...how did you...I...?"

  "Ah, the same old Mandy."

  She wished that was true. Tired and worn from her travels, just as all the survivors from the Troubles. Of all people to find out here...

  "Oh, George, it's been..."

  "A long time. Sit, please."

  George pulled out some wooden fruit boxes and they sat down.

  "Nice place."

  "It’s a hole in the ground."

  They laughed, perhaps for the first time in months.

  "At least you have a place, I’ve been…"

  She broke down and tears flowed down her face.

  "That’s okay, don’t worry. You’re safe now, really."

  Wiping away the tears, Mandy looked around, spotting the shower, the bed, the assortment of clothes, the larder, and what looked like a washing machine connected to a conveyor belt.

  "What is that?"

  "My washing machine. No electricity, of course, so ’man-powered’. I rigged it up for Bert…"

  "Bert? Who’s Bert?"

  She looked around suspiciously, eyeing up every dark corner.

  "Bert. He used to drive this thing. I had to make some use of him, seeing as he wasn’t ever going to give me any milk."

  "Milk?"

  "Bert. The goat."

  "So, this is a goat powered washing machine?"

  "Ha! It’s now a George powered washing machine. Bert died."

  "I’m sorry."

  "Made a good stew, though."

  The mention of food made Mandy’s stomach rumble out loud.

  "Do you have any food?"

  "Oh, sorry, yeah, of course. Well, I haven’t got much but…how about some fried green tomatoes?"

  "Wow, that sounds scrumptious!"

  George stood up to prepare some food but sat back down.

  "Ah, almost forgot, just have to do the old test, you know?"

  "Sorry?"

  "The test."

  She watched George pick up a petri dish filled with a gellified solution and get ready to take a sample from the inside of her mouth. It was the only way to know whether anyone was a carrier, a threat.

  "What? Test me? I’m not some ’menacing stranger’ you don’t know. I’m Mandy, your old flame from college."

  He looked into her face and she smiled back at him, making him place the petri dish back on the table.

  "Yeah, guess you’re right. Funny how people forget, how people change."

  They looked into each other’s eyes.

  "Come here."

  She put her arms around him and held him tight.

  "Oh, Mandy, it’s been so difficult, so horrible."

  "Don’t worry, it’ll be all right soon."

  Her eyes turned to blood red as she opened her mouth wide to pierce his neck with her long white fangs.

  29 - The Hunchback of Little Piddly Town

  (Nummo the alien, banana slippers, a cricket ball, an Elementary School spelling bee)

  Being a Nummo has its advantages, namely the remembering of all memories and experiences from past reincarnations and all the wisdom which comes with it. Unfortunately, mother nature has her little joke. Everything comes as a whole, there is a balance to all. I will remember this particular life for a long time to come.

  "Banana feet! Get over at deep mid wicket! Go on! Get a move on!"

  My damn parents. If it wasn't for them trying to integrate me into the normal group of local community children then no one would have seen that particular photo with me on my 8th birthday wearing a pair of banana slippers an elder relative had given. I did it to make her happy but now I lived to regret it. Ever since then, I've been a laughing stock. The nickname appeared the morning after the party in the school yard.

  To say I hate school is an understatement. Going to school for the millionth time is hell for me, I remember everything from before, so of course I am the best student. As such, I am the brunt of abuse among this small collection of neanderthals. Whenever and wherever they have the chance.

  As I'm the smartest kid in the place, I was sent off to the county elementary spelling competition and I became the champion spelling bee, though Latin would've been easier. I even got my picture in the local newspapers, a picture which was ridiculed and defacated upon by my peers in the changing rooms.

  "Not there! Over there!"

  It would also be easier if my fellow classmates actually knew the correct positioning of fielders in this wonderful game of cricket. Ugly over there has put me in deep square leg and not deep mid wicket as he so nicely requested some moments ago. Though this place is devoid of action, I may at least stay out of trouble.

  "Hey! Banana feet! Go back! Back!"

  It's best not to tell them they don't know the positions. They'd only beat me up later. Even with my immense knowledge of martial arts and defensive skills from around the world, they'd still be able to hurt me. The experience, the theory is all there, though the performance would leave a lot to be desired. As I've already mentioned, nature here is in balance, what you gain on one hand, you lose on another. I'm physically disabled...well, not bad enough to make me 'special', or get me sent to some special school or organisation which helps the disabled, but bad enough to make me different. Like the constant drool from the right side of my mouth, or the lazy right eye, or the club foot.

  "Catch! Catch it!"

  I see the cricket ball, that leather covered wooden ball, I'm trying to coordinate my hands with my mind's eye but it's not quite...the ball hits me straight in the middle of my forehead with a deafening tonk. Perhaps my next life will be fairer.

  30 - Not a usual Saturday

  (Pareidolia, jousting female knight, feather boa, bag of doorknobs)

  Bert turned off the TV.

  "What are you doing? Get off your arses! People are gathering out there!”

  Bert noticed Roger the handyman hiding in the corner.

  "Roger! What have I told you? I just saw those bags near the grandstand. Go and move them!”

  "What? Those? What are we going to do with a bag of doorknobs?”

  "I don’t care! Just move them!”

  Bert grabbed Johnny’s hand before he switched the TV back o
n.

  "Oh, Bert, I’m waiting for the football results.”

  "Look, Johnny, you’ve a tough day ahead of you.”

  Bert shoved the schedule into Johnny’s hand. The others got ready while Johnny scanned down for his name.

  "Eh? What is this? I can’t read this properly, unless this guy is called ’Jane’.

  Bert passed a pamphlet to him.

  "Ha! This guy’s got a feather boa around his neck! What is he, gay?”

  "No, he’s a woman.”

  Johnny choked on his gum, moving his sight between the pamphlet and the schedule.

  "No! You’ve gotta be kidding! A woman! That’s not right.”

  The others started sniggering amongst themselves.

  "Apparently she’s pretty good.”

  "No way, Bert! I’m not going up against a woman. You know we play for keeps.”

  "Look, we’re a man short, I called the Southern Chapter and they know we’re a rough bunch so they all said ’no’, except her.”

  "What’s wrong, Johnny? Scared of losing to a girl?”

  They all laughed and left Johnny and Bert together.

  "But...”

  "No buts, Johnny. Get out there and do a show.”

  The others suddenly all rushed back in and looked busy.

  "What…?”

  Bert and Johnny watched as a drop dead gorgeous blonde strolled in.

  "Who’s Johnny?”

  They all pointed to Johnny, staring in disbelief. She marched over to him.

  "Nice to meet you.”

  Jane grabbed Johnny’s face and gave him a long kiss. You could hear a pin drop on the grass.

  "Eh…?”

  "I always kiss my victims.”

  Everyone’s jaws dropped as she went to leave the room.

  "If I beat you...”

  Jane turned around.

  "...I want another.”

  She laughed and left.

  In the end, Johnny found Jane to be all mouth, literally, and no trousers, knocking her off with a small tap of his lance. The problem was her feather boa, becoming entangled in his helmet as they passed. Jane hit the sand, closely followed by Johnny. Unfortunately, his horse meandered and he landed on some rubbish, which included the bag of doorknobs. Jane got up but Johnny didn’t. Sensing a problem, some of the jousters, including Jane, ran to his aid and opened his visor.

  "I can see butterflies in the clouds. They’re so lovely.”

  Jane examined Johnny’s pupils.

  "I think the fall might’ve hurt him. He’s suffering from Pareidolia.”