Dani's Shorts 5 Read online

  "Really? And what about this?" John lifted up the broken gnome.

  "Taken from the White House lawn in the term of Ronald Reagan," replied Andy. "The reason why it's broken is that it took a bullet from one of the gun happy security guards when it was stolen."

  "Who stole it?" asked John.

  "Ah, now that would be telling, wouldn't it? Don't...!"

  Too late. John had sat down on what looked like a normal couch covered with tarpaulin.

  "Ahh!" He shot straight back up. "What the hell's that?"

  "It's a cactus couch," said Andy.

  "Why?"

  "Why not?"

  John rubbed his bottom and continued to look around.

  "Hey! A wooden hammer! Doesn't look like it could bang in many nails, though," he said, swishing it about.

  "That's a judge's gavel," said Andy.

  "Don't tell me, it's from a famous trial," smirked John.

  "OJ Simpson, when the judge pronounced him innocent," Andy replied.

  "How the hell it that here?" John put it down on a shelf and caught sight of something interesting. "I know what this is," he said. "It's a mammoth's tooth!" He picked it up and turned it around in his hands.

  "Actually it's a Mastodon's, a bull's. See the high-crown? Like nipples. Mastodon means 'nipple teeth'. They used to eat twigs and trees and stuff," said Andy, all scientific.

  "Why is this in here?" asked John.

  "I really have no idea," said Andy. "I don't know everything there is to know about my great uncle's stuff, only what he told me."

  They both kept looking around. It was Andy who smelt it first.

  "Did you let one off?" asked Andy.

  "'Phew! That must've been you, man! Hell, what crawled up your arse? A dead bird?" said John. They looked at each other. "Something's rotting in here, Andy."

  "Yeah, that's the smell of death, alright. I found a dead mouse in the attic once. Stank the place out," said Andy. They followed their noses and moved over to the back, past boxes and bags filled with who-knows-what.

  "It's coming from around here," said John.

  "Yeah." said Andy. John stuck his head under an old table and instantly flew backwards. "Urgh!"

  "What?" shouted Andy.

  "It's under there," said John, putting his arm across his nose and pointing. Andy glanced around and put on an old World War One gas mask. He dived under the table and retrieved a box, a small box about a foot square. He wiped the dust off the top and a label read 'New born baby, 15/10/1994'.

  Challenge 111

  Elements: Amazing Wate-On, The Bastille, Mason Bees, all characters are Monopoly tokens

  The Top Hat paced from one wall to the other, watching the Mason bees that had made nests in the old, rotting wooden beds of the Bastille cell. "When one of you wishes to talk, knock on the door." He left them to contemplate their fate.

  "What's he going on about? Why are we here?" asked the Wheelbarrow.

  "Don't you know?" said the Automobile. "One of us was a naughty boy." The others looked at each other. They were mostly all there, except for the Iron, as he'd been replaced. Thimble trembled in the corner, Battleship was anchored at the door, Scottish Terrier was forever looking for a tree and Boot stomped on the spot.

  "What are you talking about, Automobile?" asked Battleship. "You're always polluting the air with your 'wise ways'."

  "One of us," said Automobile,"used Monopoly to help advertise 'Amazing Wate-On', the weight gaining drug."

  "The amazing what?" asked Thimble.

  "The 'Amazing Wate-On', you gain weight if you take it. Really, you'd have to be dumb to take this. Just go to McDonald's every day, order extra large everything. Anyway, back to the point. It's stipulated in our contracts that we're not allowed to promote any products other than Monopoly or Monopoly-related items," stated Automobile.

  "How do you know this?" asked Boot, stomping across to the window, taking in what view of Paris it could see by jumping.

  "I just do. I have friends in high places."

  "Oh. Segway," moaned Battleship.

  "I can't say."

  "Segway it is, then," said Battleship. "So, who was it?"

  "It wasn't you?" asked Automobile.

  "No, it wasn't! I serve Monopoly well, I am loyal to the game!" shouted Battleship, firing its front cannons.

  Autmobile looked around at the others. "And it wasn't me. That leaves one of you. Please, whoever it was, go to the door and knock. I'm running empty and I need to fill my tank with gas."

  Scottish Terrier, Thimble and Boot stayed where they were. Wheelbarrow slept.

  "Well?" said Automobile. "Which one of you was it?"

  "What are you, Top Hat's spiv?" asked Boot.

  "Look, I've got to get to a gas station. I have my needs," replied Automobile. "Just go and knock on the door, one of you."

  They were silent for a while.

  "Does anyone know what happened to Iron?" asked Thimble, still trembling. They all looked at Automobile.

  "Why are you looking at me?"

  "You seem to know what's going on," said Battleship.

  "Well, I don't know what happened to Iron. I'm just as much in the dark as you are on that one."

  "It seems it's all coming to a sticky end for us, isn't it?" said Thimble. "I mean, look at all the specialised editions out there, with their wonderful tokens of computers, Pokeman, Nintendo, animation movie characters. Our days are numbered."

  "Thimble's right," said Scottish Terrier. "We should knock on the door and demand to be let out, not confess to some petty clause-breaking charge."

  A few of them nodded. Thimble grinned.

  Challenge 112

  Elements: A carrier pigeon, Bath Salts, The Pyramids, a Love Cactus

  In his rush, Clive flew onto the windowsill way too fast, pushing off the miniature roses and landing in the love cactus.

  "Next time I'll wear some protection," he said, face deep in soil.

  "Hi, Clive," greeted Steve. "What brings you over to Mrs. Cranshaw's 10th floor bathroom window?"

  Clive pulled himself out of the pot and pulled on the cactus spikes imbedded in his head.

  "I've got a message, a message from headquarters!" he cooed.

  "What are you, a carrier pigeon now?" asked Steve, watching Mrs. Cranshaw sitting on the toilet, reading a 'Hello' magazine and letting off her morning gas.

  "The Big Bird says the time is now! The time to strike is now!" cooed Clive, a little harder.

  "What are you going on about, Clive? Strike what?" asked Steve. He knew exactly what Clive was talking about. He'd done his time in the service, three years in Special Opps posted at Trafalgar Square. They'd been tough years, collecting food for the flock, assaulting enemy crows and dodging playful children. Good times, though, good times.

  "THE strike, Steve! Pigeons around the world are uniting together to take over! The time has come, Steve! The time has come!" Clive was hopping around on the windowsill, mostly due to excitement but sometimes because he found another cactus spike.

  "Oh, right. What, like, right now?" He was stalling, he knew it. They'd planned this one for generations, he'd even been to a secret mission, deep in Brussels, about the 'Big Whosh' as it was called back then.

  "Yes! Right now! My target is..." Clive looked into the window. "...Mrs. Cranshaw." Clive put on his mean face and cooed in a menacing manner. "Here's yours." Clive handed Steve a message.

  "Oh, so you are a carrier pigeon," smiled Steve. He unrolled the message and read. "Who?"

  "Mr. Pennington, 5th floor, two blocks down, see?" Clive pointed to the building and exact window. Clive remembered an old guy feeding him bread crumbs from there. That was his target? "I'm going in!" cooed Clive.

  "Mr. Pennington is a nice man," said Steve.

  "Mrs. Cranshaw is a nice woman, but they are both humans! Humans have oppressed us for centuries! They treat us like flying rats..!"

  "We are flying rats, Clive," replied Steve.


  "...and they chase us, shoot us, even put us in employment as...!" cooed Clive.

  "...carrier pigeons," finished Steve, who gestured at the message Steven had just given him.

  "That's different!" squawked Clive. He shoved his beak under the window and used all his strength to lift the window open. With only a few centimetres gap, he squeezed into the bathroom as Mrs. Cranshaw was reaching for the toilet paper.

  "For wings everywhere!" shouted Clive, diving into the room. Mrs. Cranshaw screamed as Clive swooped in on her. She grabbed the first thing available on the shelf, a jar of bath salts and whacked Clive one over the noggin, smacking him against the pyramids poster on the wall.

  "Good start, Clive, good start."

  Dani J Caile Invitational

  Elements: Take one element from Challenge 59 to Challenge 109 (excluding 60+62), in order, and write a 500 word story.

  Trouble at the Lodge

  "Look, I'm an atheist, okay," said Dave, pushing through the revolving doors of the ski lodge.

  "But you can't hit it with a wooden club, in fact, any weapon."

  Dave looked at his companion. "Take that paper bag off your head when I'm speaking."

  "No," said Bob.

  "And irrigation boots? We're in the Alps!"

  They walked to reception, where two staff members were playing rock/paper/scissors, another was eating breakfast with Thornwood tableware, and two others fought with light sabres in the back room. A Minion Dave plush ominously stood over a desk sign which said 'Caution: sharp edges'.

  "Excuse me, but I'd like to report a broken thermostat."

  "Why sir? What did it do?" asked the receptionist.

  "It's broken." Dave gave his most evil stare.

  "I'm sorry sir, but the horse has been taken to the halberdier's. We do, however, have a pink fairy armadillo..." He showed the creature from behind the desk.

  "Is it gluten free?" asked Bob. Dave moved from 'evil stare' to 'WTF'.

  "That would be the poodle, sir. You'd have to ask the bellboy." He pointed to an old genetically enhanced gnome drinking Dr. Pepper over by the lift. The gnome instantly took out his ninja weaponry, ready for battle.

  "Looks nasty to me," muttered Dave, watching the kusarigama and fukiya.

  "Don't worry, sir. Use a perfume atomiser and call his sons Saggitians. Works every time...sir?"

  Dave was transfixed by the poster under the wall clock showing Neo from 'The Matrix' holding a Sooty puppet.

  "How can that be?"

  "Oh, that. It was our late manager's. We leave it there, out of respect."

  "Late?"

  "Yes, he suffered from Misophonia."

  "He died from Misophonia?" asked Bob.

  "He had breast cancer, sir." They stood in silence. "We also have his lucky goat's hoof," he said, "and his certificate of achievement from the Gloustershire Annual Cheese Rolling Competition, 2001." The ski lodge suddenly went dark due to the encroaching storm clouds. With a smile, the receptionist held out a Montblanc fountain pen and an entry form to the evening's Fried Bologna sandwich cookoff. "Would sirs like to attend?"

  "I have too much facial hair," excused Bob.

  "Not if I was the last person alive on Earth," said Dave. "Besides, I'm wearing my tap dance shoes and it's tame dinosaur bathing night."

  "Bacon?" A grieving boy wearing argyle socks and Steampunk goggles came over. With one motion from the receptionist the boy was sucked up by a floor buffer.

  "Anyway," said Dave, "I'd also like to report that the flagpole outside was knocked down by an enraged lame llama who was fed Haggis made from barn owls."

  "Thank you, sir. I will need to change the lawn mower blade on the Star-Bellied-Sneetch machine and call for a terracotta soldier from China, then."

  "One question?" asked Bob.

  "Yes, sir?"

  "Why isn't there mouse-flavoured cat food?"

  "Erm..."

  "One more question?" asked Bob again.

  "Yes, sir?"

  "Can I buy a Moon rock here?"

  "Where do think you are, sir? Venice?"

  Challenge 113 (Annual Final 2015)

  Elements: Three Stooges Happy Birthday Song, a person born with red eyes, a poison dart frog, Pukwudgies

  Mommy and Pappy came in holding a huge birthday cake and sung the traditional Pukwudgie birthday cake song, stolen by those despicable humans, the Three Stooges.

  "We've made you a birthday cake. If you get a tummy ache, and you moan and groan and woe, don't forget we told you so. Happy Birthday, Little Maushoppa!"

  "Oh, thanks, Mommy, Pappy!" I blew out the single candle and the cake blew up in my face. We all applauded with Pukwudgian glee. "Presents!" I shouted. Mommy handed me a little box with holes in it. "What is it?" I shook it.

  "No, don't do that, you'll upset them," she said, smiling.

  I opened the box to find two perfect specimens of Dendrobates leucomelas. "Poison dart frogs! Does that mean... does that mean...?"

  "Yes, Little Maushoppa, you can go hunting humans with me, starting tomorrow. But early, mind you! I like to catch them when they're still having their first coffee," said Pappy.

  "Okay!" I said, jumping up and down with excitement.

  "And talking of humans, here's my present to you," he said, throwing a large bag over his 3 foot high shoulders. The bag squirmed and made a muffled noise.

  "What...? It isn't, is it?"

  "Go ahead, open it," grinned Pappy.

  I pulled on the ropes and out popped a human, in restraints and gagged.

  "A human!" I squealed.

  "Not just any human. Look closer," he said.

  I inspected the creature, it had two arms, two legs, all its fingers and toes were there... and then I noticed. "Red eyes!"

  "Yes, this human was born with red eyes, a rare specimen. You wouldn't believe how long I searched for one. I know red is your favourite colour, the colour of human blood. And it's all yours, to do as you wish."

  "Oh, thank you, Pappy!" I hugged my Pappy and then my Mommy, then both together. This was the best birthday ever! I played with my poison dart frogs, letting them hop from one hand to the other, and tasting what was left of my birthday cake, as my parents sat and watched, beaming with joy.

  "So, have you decided what to do with the human, son?" Pappy asked.

  "Sure! I'm going to let it go!" I smiled. They were shocked.

  "What, dear?" asked Mommy. "I thought you said 'let it go'."

  "Yes, Mommy, that's what I said."

  "Don't you want to... kill it with a knife?" asked Pappy.

  "Or push it off a cliff?" asked Mommy.

  "Or maybe pull on its nose hairs and watch it scream?" asked Pappy.

  "Well, of course I do," I said. "But first I will let it go and give it a head start. Then I will chase it through the jungle, wound it with a spear, taunt it with personal insults, throw it over a waterfall, drown it in a shallow pool and control its Tei-Pai-Wanka for the rest of my long, foul, beastly life. My Mommy cried with happiness.

  "Ah, that's my boy!" said Pappy.

  Challenge 114

  Elements: 2015 Miss Gypsy Universe Pageant, a pick pocket contest, Hand Cymbals (the tiny ones, used between fingers), a red nose

  “Come on, this has got to be better than selling socks from a bin liner,” smirked Tomi, nudging Virag in her exposed ribs.

  “Not by much,” she scalded. “To think I won Miss Gypsy Universe Pageant 2015 for this. Working on the street, prancing around to the applause of Japanese tourists.” She wiped the sweat from under her arms and got ready for another dance.

  “A lot of girls would’ve given their right arm for this gig!” he shouted. “But if they did, it wouldn’t’ve made such a good show. Get out there and make some money! I’m doing my bit.”

  “Yeah, you’re mostly hanging around on the corner, smoking it all away,” she spat.

  “What do you mean? Me and Csaba have got a contest on today!”

  “Wh
at, a loping around and doing nothing competition?” They hadn’t pick pocketed anybody all day. The Boss wouldn’t be happy.

  “You know the big stuff only comes out at night. Meagre pickings in the morning,” he said.

  “Excuses. You wait until the Boss pops over, I bet you start working then,” she retorted.

  “You watch your mouth! Now get going!”

  She put on her headdress and hand cymbals and stepped out in front of the small portable display. Clicking a button, she started the music and began dancing, making sure she smiled and gave a glimpse of her alluring charms for every passer-by, whether a local or tourist. After about fifteen minutes, she took a breather and checked the ‘donations’ box. A few coins and a mint. Whoever gave a mint? She checked her breathe and ate it.

  “What are you doing? Keep dancing,” said the fat man as he came closer. It was the Boss. She gave him a quick nod of her head in respect and tried not to laugh at his ludicrous red nose. He drank too much and it all concentrated into his big honker.

  “Sorry, but I need a five minute break, I’ve been at it all morning,” she said.

  “If you don’t start dancing right this instant, I’ll find you another place on the street, and it won’t be so classy, I can tell ya!” he grimaced.

  Pushing herself up from her make-shift stool, she wiped her brow and started the music again. The Boss watched her for a while, a big smile on his face. A few tourists went by and gave a little offering. The Boss came a little closer.

  “When you’re done for the day, come over, I’ve got something else for ya,” he said, grinning from ear to ear and holding his nuts. She almost puked on the spot. “Where’s that Tomi? And Csaba. They should be around here, working.”

  “They’re around,” she said, enjoying the reprieve. She glanced across the square and spotted them together. Tomi didn’t look so happy. Maybe he’d already lost the pick pocket contest. He came over.

  “Hey, Tomi!” The Boss gave him a strong handshake, and was surprised when Tomi stabbed him in the gut.

  Challenge 115

  Elements: Theme Song to Paladin, a Demonically possessed jar of Nutella, the Active Act of Mutiny, an Event Horizon

  "This is an act of Mutiny, Paladin! I will make sure you are court-martialed for this!" screamed the demonically possessed jar of Nutella over the comm, a jar of Nutella which had taken control of the entire ship on the event horizon of the black hole. I crept on, searching the decks for the murderer of my crewmates, the monster that had destroyed all hope for mankind. The "Fishburnt" was on a mission, a mission to find the secrets locked within this black hole, a black hole that threatened our race, our species, our lives. Somehow, the strange energy surrounding this part of space had brought Doctor Weird's personal supply of Nutella to life. My only chance, humanity's only chance, was to find this evil jar of hazelnut and cocoa spread and put a stop to its dastardly plans of sending the ship straight into the black hole.