Friday, August 12, 2011

Weekly Wordzzle Challenge # 165

Continuing the Fred Johnson Story again. I'm kind of enjoying myself and again surprised to find it makes the process easier, not more difficult... so far, anyway.  Here are links to the previous episodes.  If you need/want to catch up, click here for the 1st installment, 2nd installment3rd installment, 4th installment

Words for this week's 10-word challenge were: catalog, industry, sea gulls, floral arrangement, anything, the dawn of a new day, the green grass of home, rocks, particular, unruly  and for the mini: world, sly as a fox, photo album, doppelganger, basket

My mega:

Tomorrow was the dawn of a new day that Fred Johnson was not looking forward too. Instead it was making him long for the green grass of home or even the rocks and sea gulls of his particular favorite spot eastern shore in Maine, where the sea was unruly and magnificent and profoundly beautiful. He felt like a complete basket case and  he longed for pretty much anything but what lay ahead. He wished he had some doppelganger - he had actually researched spells - that he could send in his place, but there was no help for it. He was the one and only Paragon of Virtue called by a magical tree stump to the strange and wonderful world of the Kingdom of Sunday. If he went through the catalog of pros and cons, Sunday had a lot going for it. First, unlike Ohio (the photo album of his former life was not rich in happy, smiling moments), here he was a hero (potentially, anyway) and a wizard. Here he had a lovely home, a garden, a beautiful woman to love (from afar at present), his own chef, a loyal loving dog and magical friends. He loved the sense of industry and purpose that came with being a wizard and a Paragon of Virtue. The down side, of course was that being Paragon of Virtue entailed confronting the evil Count Psycho at the Fortress of Festering Fear and trying to lead him from the dark side into the light so that the Kingdom could be a peaceful happy place. Since he was having some significant difficulty learning the transporting spell, it seemed he might have to slog his way through some haunted forest. And Count Psycho was apparently sly as a fox and, crazy as a loon and a Class A sadist... and awaiting the Paragon's arrival. There was not much possibility of surprising him. And now Spark the wizard and his daughter Flashlight had decided that the way to Psycho's heart was through his stomach. Which reminded him that before he left he wanted to make a floral arrangement for Flashlight. It seemed it might be better to propose after he dealt with Count Psycho (assuming he lived), but at least he could send her some flowers before he left so that she would know he cared even if he didn't survive.... 

And for my 10-word: 

The catalog of floral arrangements left a great deal to be desired in Fred's opinion. Apparently there was one industry in Sunday that was just as over-blown and kitchy as Earth, Ohio. Maybe worse. He couldn't find anything that he liked. The arrangements all has stupid names too, like The Dawn of a New Day Lily, and Green Grass of Home (which was made of shamrocks and Gardenias of all the bizarre combinations). In the end, because he couldn't find anything he particularly liked, he decided to go to the garden with his dog Cane and see if he could create something of his own. On the far horizon a flock of unruly sea gulls was fighting over some prize or another. Walking the grounds he finally gathered half dozen of the most beautiful and colorful rocks he could find and arranged them in a clear crystal bowl with a dozen roses nestled a among them. It would have to do, he thought, his heart wavering between the despair and hope of the love lorn.  Turning around he saw to his dismay that the sun was about to rise.

My mini:  

The dreaded new day was actually dawning, with no doppelganger in sight. The specter of facing Count Psycho hung in the air and his inner fear monger ran him through an internal photo album of dire imagined fates meted out to him by his crazed foe. Entering the kitchen he found Chef and  Spark in a heated conversation hovering over a huge basket of some of Chef's most astonishing culinary masterpieces. Chef's cooking was so extraordinary - the best in this or any other world, Fred thought to himself - that you would have thought it was made with magic. Spark grinned happily at his newest protege. "There you are, my boy! Ready for your great adventure?  We have the food basket ready. It was a stroke of genius on your part."  Fred, who had suggested it as a joke thought it was really more of a stroke of madness than of genius and his inner fear monger, who was having his best day ever since arriving in Sunday, was chanting, "Sly as a Fox, give him lox and cookies in a box and when he puts you in the stocks remember his heart is made of rocks."  Trembling, Fred looked at the old wizard and said. "Spark, even if I'm still learning, wouldn't it maybe be better to go with magic, than..."  "My boy, Chef's food is made with a love so pure you can taste it. There are many kinds of magic in this world, but none more powerful than love. And love that also tastes good? Trust me, my boy. The tree stump knew what it was doing when it sent you to us."  With that, the wizard raised his wand, spoke an incantation in the language Fred was still learning, and Fred, though he had known it was coming, was surprised to find himself, his dog and the basket of goodies, standing at the gate of the Fortress of Festering Fear. 


Words for next week's 10-word challenge: cup of coffee, visitors, exacting, fresh, hypochondriac, musical chairs, fertilizer, orange glow, cool breezes, 

And for the mini: trampoline, splotchy, jail, gargantuan, praise

Thanks you for playing.  Newcomers can check here for some guidelines to make the game more fun. There are no rules, just some general guidelines and tricks.


The Bug said...

Oh poor Fred! I think this is a great strategy though - can't wait to see how it turns out!

Argent said...

I'm really enjoying this story. I have my mini written and just need to whip up a new dollop of Harold.