A simple Saturday would include a calm cup of coffee, peace, and quiet. Of course, around here, the coffee is available, but peace and quiet? A touch of the two-coffee button sets in motion a chain of events destined to see me admitted to a special care facility or an order for a tun of wine. The coffee smells like redemption to a caffeine-starved brain. The first sip stops the nails-on-the-chalkboard low-caffeine warning alarm. The second sip is accompanied by the Westminster chime of the doorbell, joined by the baying of my own hounds of Baskerville – Twiggy and Tempeste. Their sound is like ten ton of tin falling from a church rafter just before the benediction. A quick toss of two new identical tan colored squeaky toys into the soundproof room, and the door slam brings back the Songs of Silence.

A check of the security monitor shows me an image of a person dressed in a Bugs Bunny suit. Since my curiosity is raised, with a sigh, the security shutdown process begins.

The SWAT team needs to be put on standby. A quick text to the leader confirms that status. Also, the flight of A-10 Warthogs must be diverted. Another call to the commander puts that worry to rest. The SEAL team needs to be called off, and a call to the leader makes that possible. The MH-60 Jayhawk Helicopter hovering over the house is diverted. A call to the tow truck driver stops the deployment of an M1A1 Abrams Tank. The control panel simplifies the security system’s shutdown process. The boiling oil vats are put on standby, the turret mortars disengaged, the Trebuchet on safety, the concertina wire rolled, the Claymore mines reset, the tower Gatling guns on safety, the moat net dropped, the alligators fed, and the IEDs and shoulder-held rockets put away. The Proton torpedoes switched off. The gamma ray beams covered. The high-powered maser guns switched to standby, and the nanorobots were chained in the basement. The Klingons are called back, and the Targ is caged. Robbie’s Bot is sent to the basement. The Tasmanian Devil is directed to the food in his cage, and the door drops. The electronic jammer is kept active, given a situation with a robot not too long ago. The locks on the door are thrown. And the door opened.

The guy in the Bugs Bunny suit has a clipboard and a letter, which he passes to me. After signing and passing the clipboard back, the question has to be asked, “What’s with the Bugs Bunny outfit?” He explains that he took his uniform to the dry cleaners and picked it up last night. When he went to put it on today, there was an obvious mistake, so he had to wear the Bugs Bunny outfit that the cleaners mistakenly gave him.

“Why not just wear normal clothes?”

“Then I would be out of uniform, which is against company rules.”

“But you look out of uniform right now.”

“No. You see, I have the receipt that clearly says this is my uniform.”

The conversation is going nowhere, and the guy has his Bugs paw outstretched for a tip. Feeling sorry for him, he gets a tenner. Back inside, the letter is a message from Linda Hill that reads:

Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “tan/ten/tin/ton/tun.” Use one, use ’em all, use ’em any way you’d like. Bonus points if you manage to get four of them into your post. Have fun!

To see what others have done with the prompt, visit Linda’s post. Here is the link: https://lindaghill.com/2026/04/24/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-april-25-2026/

Tan/Ten/Tin/Ton/Tun by John W. Howell © 2026

“Well, you got the bonus points for using all of those prompts.”

“Why, thank you.”

“I think you played a little loose with that ten ton of tin falling line, but we’ll let you get away with it.”

“I thought you were going to call me on the tan toy.”

“No, that was okay. How did you know what a tun was?”

“I used to live in wine country, and some of the big storage barrels were called tuns.”

“Well, that was obscure for sure. What made you think of a Bugs Bunny suit?”

“I wish I could tell you. I was writing the story, and it just came to me.”

“Well, how about writing you and me at the pub with some Voodoo Rangers?”

“Just introduced the concept. You call Uber?”

“Yup. Right over there.”

Photo by Dan Antion

“No way.”

“Why?”

“Because I know we’ll have to put out a fire or something.”

“Only if there is a call.”

“With my luck, there will be several.”

“Okay, I thought you would say that, so I called for two. Look over there.”

Photo by Tom Okragly

“Wow, a 1946 Pontiac Streamliner. Now you are talking.”

“I thought you would like it.”

“What’s the catch?”

“No catch. Okay, just a little catch.”

“I knew it. What’s the catch?”

“The driver’s kids have to come along.”

“Doesn’t seem so bad. How many kids?”

“Eight, I think.”

“I think we have better odds with the fire engine.”