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Sunday, March 23, 2014

Weekend Quickie 28! Never missed one :-)

So far, I've never missed a TIW Weekend Quickie...now it's on its 28th!
Here's the place to go and see mine and the other TIWs' 200 worders...http://theironwriter.com/weekend-quickie-28/
But to make it easy for ya, here's my take :-)

Big Chief "He ya ho"


The arrowhead sticking out above the number 16 announced trouble. Detective Brad Shaw eased the motel room door open and creeped into the darkness, carpet wet underfoot. No movement but the bathroom light flickering, door closed. He made out two bodies, one splayed out on the floor, the other hanging over the bed, motionless.
"We n'de ya ho, We n'de ya ho, We n'de ya, We n'de ya ho ho ho ho…"
Brad moved closer to the light, taking up a position behind a chair, gun pointing towards what he recognised as singing.
"Police! Come on out with your hands up!" Where was his backup, Lance?
"He ya ho, He ya ho, Ya ya ya!"
Brad's lumbering partner walked in with a burrito from the El Rancho's restaurant in one hand and his gun limp in the other.
"Whatta we got, partner?"
The bathroom door flew open, hinges splintering, light filling the room to reveal a large Native American, war paint and all, string taut and bow loaded.
"You gotta heap big angry chief!"
An arrow cut through Lance like butter and he fell, the burrito rolling over to the chair where Brad hid.
"Oh, what serendipity!" he exclaimed. "Chorizo!"





The arrowhead sticking out above the number 16 announced trouble. Detective Brad Shaw eased the motel room door open and creeped into the darkness, carpet wet underfoot. No movement but the bathroom light flickering, door closed. He made out two bodies, one splayed out on the floor, the other hanging over the bed, motionless.
“We n’de ya ho, We n’de ya ho, We n’de ya, We n’de ya ho ho ho ho…”
Brad moved closer to the light, taking up a position behind a chair, gun pointing towards what he recognised as singing.
“Police! Come on out with your hands up!” Where was his backup, Lance?
“He ya ho, He ya ho, Ya ya ya!”
Brad’s lumbering partner walked in with a burrito from the El Rancho’s restaurant in one hand and his gun limp in the other.
“Whatta we got, partner?”
The bathroom door flew open, hinges splintering, light filling the room to reveal a large Native American, war paint and all, string taut and bow loaded.
“You gotta heap big angry chief!”
An arrow cut through Lance like butter and he fell, the burrito rolling over to the chair where Brad hid.
“Oh, what serendipity!” he exclaimed. “Chorizo!” - See more at: http://theironwriter.com/weekend-quickie-28/#sthash.5cOe7Y3T.dpuf

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