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Thursday, August 28, 2014

TIW Challenge 80 my take on my challenge :-)


Challenge 80 in TIW is 'The Dani J Caile Challenge' :-)
The elements look 'soft' (as Mathew W. Weaver mentioned), but that's to bring out the creativity of the writers. To raise the stakes a little, here's my own 'take' of my own Challenge :-)
Can you guess what this is a parody of? First person to get it right wins a sweetie (from Mathew).


TIW Challenge 80

(elements: a Furby, Dr Pepper, a Peel Trident car, a lost Emperor)



 A Pox on your lips later


You never get what you want, you get what you need. I needed a case. And for my stupidity, I got one. So here I was, stuck in a dingy cafe in the middle of some unforgettable metropolis, getting ready to finish this dirty business.
His credentials were amazing. Emperor Klutz was one of the most outstanding rulers of his time. A man of wealth, wit and banter, and a devil with the sabre. He’d opened more corner shops than any personage before him, supported any animal charity that dared to stand at his huge granite pillared gates, and run through a hundred or more oppugners who had the audacity to laugh at his customised Furby.
Then the cracks started to appear, talking to plants, leaving little love notes for Santa Claus wherever he went, and shopping at Tesco’s, remarking on how much more expensive other shops seemed to be in comparison. Finally, after an intense 3 hour session at a Children’s Playhouse, he lost contact with reality, leaving from the carpark in his prized 3 wheeler bubble top Peel Trident car with only his Furby in the detachable shopping basket for company.
After a while, reports came in of unflattering as-yet-unseen photos showing famous world leaders in certain compromising positions being posted across most of the largest internet network websites, all linking back to this one lost emperor. He was spilling the beans on them all and they wanted him stopped. Disconnect with extreme prejudice. Extreme prejudice.
An informant had told me his little red car had been seen parked behind a seedy strip club on the darkest side of town. With two refills of the blackest, thickest coffee this dump could serve inside me, I made my way there.
"I wouldn’t drink from that if I were you. You’ll get a pox on your lips later," said an aristocratic voice behind me. I left my untouched drink at the bar and slid into his booth, unlit except for a scented candle placed on the table next to his infamous Furby. He sipped on a can of Dr Pepper.
"You know, Dr Pepper is so unique. You cannot say what it tastes like because it's so different. It's not apple, nor strawberry, not even a root beer, nor cola. It's a different kind of drink with a unique taste all its own."
"U-nye-noh-lah," squeeked the Furby.
"Where are you from…Brad?" He knew my name, the game was up.
"Out of town."
"Whereabouts?"
"Thereabouts."
"How far from the river?"
"Far."
"Wee-tee-kah-wah-tee," said the Furby.
"Have you ever considered…chickens?"
This man was clearly insane. They were right, he needed to be stopped.
"I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to unplug you."
"I have Wifi."
All it took was one call to a guy who owed me a favour and he was off, off from the net, disconnected from the mass of media websites hungry for his tasteless sleaze. He placed his tablet down and sighed.
"Oh, the horror, the horror…"


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