I'd like to welcome Spanky Strawberry Slokovich, winner of the "Escribe de' Trois" challenge over at TIW. Spanky, hello.
"Whoopie fishie fishie."
Yes. Now, please tell us how you wrote this fine story of yours.
"Spinky winky fank dank."
Right. Thank you, Spanky...
A nice profile picture...
And to round this off, here's Spanky's story...
"Escribe de'Trois" Challenge – Up in the Trees
(a tree stand, star dust, edible underwear)
by Spanky Strawberry Slokovich
Gark the bear settled himself down in the
undergrowth under the star-filled sky, munching on some berries he’d picked up
earlier and watched his weekly hunter entertainment. Dave, tall and lanky, was
over in the tree on the left, while Bob, a fat ball of a man, on a tree to the
right. They both sat there in their state-of-the-art-the-best-money-can-buy
tree stands some twenty feet up, their guns loaded and ready as they scanned
the forest for movement. Not a soul was about. They’d already been up there
half the night and looked about ready to quit.
“What does it all mean, Bob?” asked Dave, lowering
his gun and staring up at the stars.
“‘It’s a pronoun, Dave,” replied his overly-chubby
partner.
“No, Bob, ‘it’, the ultimate question.”
“Oh.”
“Looking up at that sky, it makes me
feel…insignificant, you know.”
“You are insignificant, Dave.”
“Shut up, Bob.”
“Right.”
“No, I mean, I feel like we’re all just ‘cosmic
dust’ in the universe.”
“Oh yeah, right. Deep, Dave, real deep. Like star
dust, you mean?”
“Stardust? That was a shit movie.”
“Come on,
Dave. Any film with Michelle Pfeiffer in it is worth a look.”
“Good point.”
Gark scratched himself and accidentally snapped a
twig. Both hunters aimed their guns out into the forest below, searching, but
finding nothing. He heard Dave’s stomach growl louder than his Aunt Nellie’s.
“So, what have you got, Bob?”
“Eh?”
“The food, the food. What have you got?”
“Erm…nothing?”
“What? But it was your turn to bring the food!”
Dave’s shouting upset an animal some distance away,
causing it to flutter and squawk away into the night.
“Shhh, we’re not gonna shoot anything if you shout
like that.”
“Are you telling me that you didn’t bring ANYTHING?”
“Erm, well, I do have something.”
“Great. I thought we were done for. What have you
got?”
“You won’t like it.”
“You didn’t bring dry roasted peanuts again, did
you? You know I hate them.”
“No, not that.”
“Well?”
“Erm, well...”
“Yes?”
“Well, you know, I hadn’t actually planned on being
here with you tonight.”
“Yeah, I know. You had that date with Maisy, the
bird at the diner. But she had to change shifts at short notice. Sad.”
“Yep.”
Gark looked on as Bob sat in silence and Dave came
to some hideous realisation, one he truly didn’t like.
“No.”
“What?”
“No, Bob, don’t tell me.”
“Come on, at least it’s something.”
“I am NOT going to eat them!”
“Very nutritional, you know, edible underwear.”
“Oh, come on!”
Bob had already reached into his camouflage trousers
and ripped off a large chunk of candy-tasting pink boxers. Dave’s stomach
roared once more, one Gark would have been proud of.
“Oh, go on, then. Throw me over a bit.”
“What would you prefer? Front or back?”
Gark choked on his berries, only to lift his head to
find two barrels aimed straight at him. Ever heard the joke of the bear
crapping in the woods? No rabbit this time.
