Approaching the coffee machine with trepidation is necessary, given past troubles. The touchscreen appears normal, and the system status lights are all green. Today may be a day of peace after all. A touch of the two coffee buttons brings the normal function of my dear friend to life. Sure enough, a cup is delivered. The first sip lets my bleeding brain know salvation is at hand. The neurons finally stop their light show, and calm spreads throughout the gray land. The second sip is followed by the jarring intrusion of the Westminster chimes, indicating that once again, some idiot has ignored the “Do not ring the doorbell” sign.
A Bennie bone tossed into the soundproof room and slamming of the door puts an end to the eardrum pain caused by the painful octave reach of the Frenchie bark version of “Danger Will Robinson.” Looking at the security system monitor screen, I see what appears to be a pig dressed in human clothing. “What do you want?”
“D-d-d-d-delivery f-f-for J-J-John.” “Can you leave it?” Of course, as the words left my mouth, the answer was well known. Of course not. Heaving a sigh, the security system shutdown process has begun. 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 control panel simplifies the shutdown process of the security system. 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, the IEDs and shoulder-held rockets put away. The Proton torpedoes switched off. The locks on the door are thrown. And the door opened.
“S-s-sign h-h-here.” We swap, and when turning to go back inside, the pig says, “What, no tip?” “Use a seven iron to chip up to the green,” is the reply. The pig bears his teeth, and the door is slammed before things get nasty. The delivery is from Linda Hill. The message reads, Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “chip.” Use it as a noun, use it as a verb, use it any way you’d like. Enjoy!
To see what others have done with the prompt, go to Linda’s post. Here is the link https://lindaghill.com/2025/07/18/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-july-19-2025/
Chip by John W. Howell © 2025
“You should have tipped the pig.”
“Why?”
“Just a nice thing to do.”
“I think it is his job to deliver, right?”
“Yeah, but clearly he needs the money.”
“What for? More corn?”
“It wouldn’t hurt for you to chip in a few bucks.”
“This is coming from the VooDoo Ranger big spender.”
“Hold on. This is your blog. You invented this whole scenario. Why should I have to pay?”
“It would be nice to share.”
“Do I get paid for showing up here?”
“Well, no.”
“I rest my case.”
“Fine. Order the Uber and let’s get to the pub.”
“Silly man, like 1000 times before, he’s right over there.”
“You are kidding, right?”
“We got a great deal.”
“I’m sure, and all we have to do is deliver those plants.”
“Well, yeah. But they are on the way.”
“I guess it’s better than having to plant them.”
“Erm.”
“What?”
“We have to hang them.”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake.”
“It’s easy work. Well, except for the ladder.”
“Ladder, what ladder?”
“The ten-footer that we need to reach the hanging places.”
“Why so high?”
“It’s on the rooftop of that new fifty-story high-rise.”
“Of course it is.”
“You’re not afraid of heights, right?”
“Let’s just go and decide who is going up that ladder later.”
“Good plan. We can flip for it.”
“Yeah, and whoever wins the ladder climb doesn’t have to pay for the VooDoos.”
“I’ll do the ladder.”
“Thought so.”
