Continuing the Fred Johnson Story again. Sticking with Fred Johnson's adventure as Paragon of Virtue. I'm still stunned that it's so much easier not to make up new characters every week. Here are links to the previous episodes. If you need/want to catch up, click here for the 1st installment, 2nd installment, 3rd installment, 4th installment, 5th installment, 6th installment
Words for this week's 10-word challenge were: thunder storm, earrings, cookies and milk, wilderness, wood carving, vitamins, precision, fortitude, pause, category And for the mini: turtle, fragrant, bubbles, sugar, pregnant
Fred Johnson paused for a moment in front of a rather elaborate and strangely compelling wooden carving of his host and alleged foe, the dreaded Count Psycho, who - at least on their first meeting - seemed more like a bubble-headed ten-year-old on a sugar high from an over-dose of cookies and milk. The carving, which portrayed Psycho standing on the back of a turtle which for some reason was wearing earrings (he hadn't know turtles had ears), was amazing in the precision with which it captured the Count's expression and revealed the darker person who hid behind the frothy chatter. The artist portrayed a category of malice Fred had previously thought was the stuff of fairy tales and once again he found himself doubting that he had the wit or fortitude for the task assigned to him and wished he was back in the library of his little farm house instead of in this grim fortress stuck in the middle of an unknown wilderness in a kingdom he had never head of until six months earlier. As if nature itself wished to confirm his fears, the sky darkened quite suddenly and a fast moving thunder storm crashed and banged outside with terrifying echoes in the halls of the gloomy fortress. The air seemed pregnant with foreboding and menace and he wished (strange how the mind works) that he had remembered to take his vitamins this morning before Spark had zapped him across the miles and into his present predicament. Just as he felt himself spiraling towards panic, the familiar wet nose of his dog Cane pushed against his hand and the oddly fragrant smell of his fur brought the newly minted Paragon of Virtue back down to earth. He reached out and scratched an ear. "Thanks, my friend. I needed that."
"Damned nice dog that," Psycho remarked. "My dumb mutt gets spooked by thunder storms. Stupid animal.... Saw you looking at that old wooden carving of my grandfather. Everyone says we look alike. I don't see it, myself. Since we can't go to the veranda on account of this stupid weather, would you fancy some cookies and milk in the pantry?" Fred found himself marveling at Psycho's fortitude in his capacity to speak without even slight pauses for astonishing lengths of time and wondered if there were some special vitamins he took to give him so much energy. The speed of the chatter and the constant changes in subject category left his head spinning and in his new more paranoid state, he found himself wondering if that was not the intent of the speaker. Grounded by Cane, he began to notice that there was a kind of strange precision to the seemingly random twists and turns of the Count's aura of air-headed docility. Somewhere in his readings - a book called The WildernessWithin if he was not mistaken - he thought remembered a guide or maybe even a spell with which to see past such "fogs of illusion" he thought the author had called them. He loved that phrase. It was very poetic. And then he remembered. Something about a magic earring. He wondered if Spark had put it in his basket or if he would have to try conjuring a new one for himself. He wondered what his life would have been like if he were still in Ohio....
And the mini:
On arriving at the kitchen, they were greeted by a very pregnant woman who looked so much like a turtle that Fred found himself wondering if perhaps she wasn't one.... She was carrying a pot of wonderfully fragrant coffee that made Fred's heart sing. It smelled remarkably like Chef's brew. "Excellent, Bubbles, dear," the Count chirped in a tone that even the lack of a magic earring made Fred's blood run cold.."But where's the sugar? Ah. you did bring it. Now bring something to eat." Finding his voice again for almost the first time all morning, Fred interrupted. "Please, Count Psycho, don't trouble Bubbles to go to any effort. I would be delighted to share some of the magnificent culinary creations of my own Chef with you - and perhaps Mrs. Bubbles would enjoy one too...." There was no masking the glare that Psycho directed at him, although he quickly sought to cover it with one of his frothy laughs... Nor was there any masking of the mix of fear and delight that also quickly passed over the pregnant turtle's face before it returned to an expressionless stare. "Bubbles can tend to herself. Mustn't spoil the help, young Paragon." "My apologies," Fred whispered, though a few minutes later he made sure that Cane quietly slipped away for a moment to honor his offer....
Words for next week's 10-word challenge: fuzzy, smoke signals, surgery, solitaire, sketch, chosen, pool, clause, salt, confetti
And for the mini: transformation, shadow boxing, coconuts, sparkle, chanting
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