Jessica continues to hold the gun on me. I ask her kindly if she might be willing to aim it at the big guy driving the car. She chuckles and gives me a smile that says, “Fat Chance.” A look out the windshield lets me spot a coffee shop on the next corner. I suggest we all stop in hopes that everyone else in the car is suffering a brain bleed from the lack of caffeine; Jessica scoffs and reminds me that if our destination turns out to be a hoax, I won’t need caffeine ever again.

My mind is racing, trying to figure out a diversion. A well-placed rock thrown with some velocity could be a good diversion. Just as my brain centers on the idea of running for my life, we stop; the guy in front says, “We are at the address.” Jessica looks out the window. “This is a Costco,” she whispers. “How the hell did the statue get into Costco?” She turns to me with fire in her eyes. “This better not be a trick.” To make her point, she shoves the gun under my nose.

My stuttering explanation of the logic of hiding something in plain sight causes her to lower the cannon. She motions for me to get out, and the guy standing outside the door thwarts the thought of running. He opens it and motions for me to step out. Jessica comes around the car, and the gun is hidden somewhere. Her eyebrow lift tells me it is hidden but easy to pull out. “Move it,” she orders. We stroll toward the entrance. When we get inside, a person asks for our membership card. “Show her your card, big shot.” Jessica does not sound pleased.

“I don’t have a card.” My voice comes out in a squeak. Jessica turns a shade of red never before seen by humans. Her snarl causes the Costco person to step back. The big guy comes forward and asks about the next move. Jessica puts her hand to her chin. Her eyes brighten. “Let’s go to the service desk and sign up.” She turns to the Costco person and says. “We can do that, right?” The Costco person nods, and we are off to the desk.

Jessica shoves me to the desk, and the Costco person asks how they can help. I explain I need a membership, and they request my name and address. I tell the employee and start blinking SOS in Morse code with my eyes. The employee looks at the computer screen in a funny way and then says, “I think we have an envelope for you from Linda Hill.”

Jessica leans over my shoulder to see what is in the envelope. She loses interest when she reads Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “rock’.” Use it any way you’d like. Have fun!

If you would like to visit Linda’s blog to see how other folks use the prompt, here is the link https://lindaghill.com/2023/06/30/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-july-1-2023/

Rock by John W. Howell © 2023

“Who will believe an envelope is waiting for you at Costco?”

“It’s called suspension of belief for the story’s sake.”

“Yeah, but that is ridiculous.”

“You didn’t say that about the bi-plane last week.”

“Cause that could happen. Costco’s not the UPS store.”

“Well, Linda is everywhere.”

“You shoulda found a rock and beaned ole Jessica.”

“I thought of that. But still, there’s the other guy.”

“Use a bigger rock, is all.”

“I don’t think that’s going to work.”

“Is there a literary term for painting yourself into a corner?”

“I think it’s called text Uber.”

“Done. He’s waiting over there.”

“Hold on. I don’t see anything but a Mini Cooper.”

“That’s him.”

“We can’t fit in that thing.”

“He’s got a roof rack.”

“You think I’m going to ride on the roof.”

“Well, I can’t. Arthritis, you know.”

“You rock it well. Let’s go.”

A guy about 300 pounds and six foot four unties me while Jessica stands, pointing a gigantic handgun at my nose. “Okay, wise guy, “she says. “You said you knew where the statue is, so now’s your chance. Get up, and let’s go.” She waves the gun in the direction of the door. The big guy steps aside to let me go first. “You wouldn’t have a spare cup of coffee, would you?” My words sound like that kid in a forgotten product commercial where he holds up a bowl and asks pitifully for some more food.

Jessica tells me to shut up and to move through the door. The bright sun renders me a temporary Mr. Magoo and absolutely clueless about where to go. The big guy grabs my arm and drags me to a big black car. He opens the door and unceremoniously shoves me inside. Jessica slides in on the other side and doesn’t have to say much about making any false moves. The cold steel against my temple says all there is to say.

“Now, smart ass. Tell the driver where to go before you’re sporting a third eye.”

Not wanting to abort my living being status, my mumbling vague directions will hopefully buy me a little time. Jessica asks the driver if he understands where to go, and a surprising nod causes my breath to let go. Jessica gives me a jaundiced look like she knows a stall when she hears one. “You get one chance, dipshit. No statue, and you’ll enjoy a long dirt nap.”

Looking out the window, a strange sight appears in the sky. It is one of those biplanes, and it’s pulling a banner. It looks like a message from Linda Hill. It reads, Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “starts with ‘ab.’” Find a word that starts with “ab” and use it in your post. Enjoy!

If you visit Linda’s post, you can see how other bloggers respond to the prompt. Here is the link. Also, please ask her to send help.

The Friday Reminder and Prompt for #SoCS June 24, 2023

Starts with AB by John W. Howell © 2023

“Well, you have me absolutely confused.”

“About what?”

“The abnormality of the airplane.”

“Why are you using odd words.”

“Caught the prompt fever.”

“Well, you can stop now. We have enough AB words.”

“So, explain the airplane.”

“I think it’s obvious. I needed a way to deliver the prompt, and Jessica Rabbit and her cohort were not the way.”

“Cheap trick,”

“Or clever plot element.”

“We’ll see what turns up in the comments.”

“This is hard work. I think we need a VooDoo Ranger.”

“Uber is here already. There he is.”

“That long black car is Jessica’s.”

“No, the Uber driver is behind that one.”

“On the John Deer tractor?”

“There’s a trailer for us.”

“Absurd.”

“It’ll be fun.”

“Appeals to the bumpkin in us all. Okay, let’s go.”

Trouble-free coffee is the best kind. A full cup and a sip seem like heaven. It is Saturday, which means a day when the agenda is open. Sitting on the couch, savoring the sharp taste of freshly ground French Roast Arababaca beans, is the perfect setting to be interrupted by the phone.

An unknown caller ID flashes on the screen, indicating the kidnapper is trying to reach me. “Joe’s diner,” is my greeting. Heavy breathing is the reply. Then, after a moment, an electronic voice warns me to stop playing games if I want to see the statue in one piece again.

My explanation is straightforward. The heavy breather is told that not seeing the statue again would be a blessing. He promptly hangs up. With some relief, another sip of coffee brings the sound of baying hounds along with the cursed doorbell. The powerspray guy had knocked the do not ring the doorbell sign to St. Louis, and it has not been replaced.

Throwing Lucy and Twiggy a treat, the security shutdown procedure is enacted. After a few minutes, the front door is finally thrown open. There stands Jessica Rabbit, or rather there leans Jessica Rabbit. Pulling her off the doorbell and being hit by the silence of the lamb’s means conversation is possible. “What are you doing here? Is my first question.

Jessica breaks down in tears and begs me to get the statue back. Explaining that the kidnappers were told to pound sand would not help here. Deciding to stick to the story that everything is being done and that the statue would be back soon causes Jessica’s tears to stop. Handing her a handkerchief, she dabs at her eyes and thanks me. She then givs me an envelope, turns, and walks away, leaving only the intoxicating scent of jasmine in her wake.

The message in the envelope is from Linda Hill. It reads Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “stick.” Use it as a noun or a verb; use it any way you’d like. Have fun!

If you would like to visit Linda’s blog and find out how you may participate as well as see how other bloggers respond to the prompt, here is the link. https://lindaghill.com/2023/05/19/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-may-20-2023/

Stick by John W. Howell © 2023

“I didn’t get the prompt.”

“Stick is the prompt.”

“Oh, I get it. You stick to the story.”

“At least you were awake for that part.”

“Wadda, you mean. I listen to all your prompt stories.”

“Are you telling me the truth?”

“Okay, almost all.”

“You should stick to the truth.”

“It is overrated. What are you going to do about that bunny woman?”

“I’m not sure. I suppose if I keep putting the kidnappers off, she’ll just come back.”

“Pretty easy on the eyes.”

“I have to figure out a way to stick it to the kidnappers and get Jessica her statue back.”

“Tall order there, Boy Scout.”

“Speaking of order.”

“Uber is on the way.”

“Great maybe we can figure out a plan.”

“We will need to get that done before the second VooDoo Ranger.”

“Yeah I hear that.”

“There’s the Uber driver now.”

“Hold on. That’s a two seat Shelby Cobra. How we going to fit in that?”

“Tightly my man. Very tightly.”

The coffee machine has finally come to an end. Reminds me of the song we sang in the schoolyard. “Ring around a Rosie. Pocket full of posies. All fall down.” Since that song was inspired by the bubonic plague, it seems fitting in this situation. The machine has given up the ghost and must be replaced. The new one is on its way, but until it arrives, it must be jiggered to override the internal controls. With much jiggering, a cup comes at last.

The first sip brings to mind the statue of Roger Rabbit. A deep sigh follows the thought of having to get rid of it. The first task is to see if it is still there. A check of the ring doorbell on my phone shows it is no longer on the drive. To confirm the security shutdown process is begun. The claymore mines disarmed. The tower machine guns are placed on standby. The boiling oil vat is secured. The moat net retracted. The concertina wire rolled back. The trebuchet was secured. The gate lifted. The locks and deadbolts reset. The front door opened.

Looking at where the statue used to be confirms it is gone. In its place is an envelope. Tearing it open, there are two messages. The first is from someone who signs their name, The Phantom. It reads No Police. If you want to see your stature again, you’ll follow our directions. We will be in touch.

I hope the would-be kidnappers are happy with their statue since there is no reason to respond to any demands. The second message is from Linda Hill. It reads. Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “a song from your childhood.” So think of a song from your childhood and just write. Have fun!

If you would like to have fun, visit Linda’s blog and read how easy it will be. You can also see other prompt responses. Here is the link. https://lindaghill.com/2023/05/05/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-may-6-2023/

Childhood Song by John W. Howell © 2023

“So you did ring around the Rosie?”

“Kinda morbid, wasn’t it?”

“Ever lose a coffee machine?”

“Can’t say that I have. I would have picked London Bridges’ Falling Down.”

“Why that one?”

“Well, the machine has taken a fall, and I thought that would be more appropriate.”

“It would work well too.”

“So what about that statue?”

“I think I’ll just ignore the kidnappers when they contact me.”

“You think that’s wise?”

“Why not?”

“They might be gang members and come after you.”

“Over that stupid statue?”

“Well, they want money.”

“Yeah, I didn’t think of that. I’ll find out what they want, but I sure do not want the statue back.”

“I get that. Do you remember the song, “Nick knack paddy whack?”‘

“‘Give the dog a bone.” Sure, I remember.”

‘”This old man came rolling home.” Remind you of anything?”

“Help me.”

“A few too many VooDoo Rangers.”

“Of course. Punch up, Uber.”

“You are the best.”

“I guess that means I’m buying.”

“So kind to offer. There’s our ride.”

The only sound this morning is the dignified monotone of the coffee machine, indicating the cup is ready. Feeling mononucleosis-like exhaustion from the previous week’s mayhem, the cup offers the promise of relief. A few sips bring me to the point of recognizing the silence surrounding my inner sanctum.

As my interior monologue about the serenity of the place comes to a close, the intrusive sound of the Klaxon horn connected to the doorbell shatters the momentary peace. Twiggy and Lucy take up their Hounds of Baskerville impersonation while the security shutdown procedure is begun. A quick glance at the security camera screen shows the presence of a monolith on the front porch.

The claymore mines are disarmed. The tower machine guns are placed on standby. The boiling oil vat is secured. The moat net retracted. The concertina wire rolled back. The trebuchet secured. The gate lifted. The locks and deadbolts reset. The front door opened.

A tall box stands before me. An envelope with the words OPEN ME FIRST is taped to the front. Ripping it off and tearing it open reveals two messages. The first tells me to pull the handle marked OPEN on the box. The second is from Linda Hill and says Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “starts with mono.” Find a word that starts with “mono” and use it in your post. Enjoy!

If you want to enjoy go to Linda’s blog and read how simple it is. You will also find other idiots’ author’s versions of the prompt. Here is the link. https://lindaghill.com/2023/04/14/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-april-15-2023/

Starts with Mono by John W. Howell © 2023

“Another cliffhanger, huh?”

“Well, I needed a rest from that circus.”

“You ever get that tent taken away?”

“Yeah, but the elephant poop was a challenge.”

“That is a little too much information.”

“I suppose. I won’t go into the clown car mess then.”

“Yeah, please don’t. So, what’s going on with the box? ”

“Looks like we all will find out next week.”

“Schweinehund.”

“What’s that?”

“A friend used that word this week.”

“Okay then. I hope it wasn’t aimed at you.”

“No, he was talking about others.”

“Good. Not a compliment.”

“Do you know what it means?”

“It is an insult and can have several meanings.”

“Like what?”

“Fatherless child.”

“Bastard?”

“That and arse too.”

“Well, we can change the subject real soon.”

“I noticed you called me that.”

“Term of endearment for another cliffhanger.”

“Okay, what would you call a VooDoo Ranger?”

“Lifesaver.”

“Close enough. Uber on its way?”

“Ordered.”

“Outstanding.”

The blessed coffee machine generously gives up its treasure without nary a peep. Sipping the revitalizing fluid generates a lightning flash in the Morpheus stunned brain. It comes with the melodious and, if truth be known, ominous cords of the calliope. The circus must still be in the backyard.

Racing to the back confirms the worst case. The large tent is still in place and filled with what appear to be hundreds of spectators. Phil Harris’ electronic voice echoes throughout the interior space.” Ladies and Gentlemen and children of all ages. I now direct your attention to the center ring where our very own Wile E. Coyote and the Roadrunner will attempt on the high wire a feat that has never been attempted before.”

A hush comes over the crowd, and a lone spotlight picks up Wile E. Coyote precariously balanced on a bicycle high up in the tent’s rarified air on a taught wire. There is no net, so death-defying takes on a new meaning. He is holding a rocket from the ACME Bird Blasting Company. The Roadrunner is at the other end of the wire, and it appears that she intends to run straight at Wile while continuing to maintain balance.

The music reaches a crescendo, and the Roadrunner begins her run. Wile engages the rocket fuse and takes aim at the Roadrunner. As the distance closes, the rocket ignites, and Wile struggles to hold it for a last-minute adjustment. Unfortunately, he does so for a second too long as the afterburner kicks in, and the rocket and Wile punch through the tent ceiling and are last seen acting out the “Rockets Red Glare” lyrics from the Star Spangled Banner.

A “beep beep” causes me to jump two feet and realize the Roadrunner is behind me. Once turning, she hands me an envelope. Then, with another “beep beep,” she is gone. We all know the drill. It’s from Linda Hill. The message reads, Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “starts with gen.” Find a word that starts with “gen” and use it in your post. Have fun!

If you want to have fun, visit Linda’s blog and read how easy it is. While there, you can read some other posts with today’s prompt. Here’s the link. https://lindaghill.com/2023/04/07/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-april-8-2023/

Starts with Gen by John W. Howell © 2023

“Okay, I hope this is the last circus bit.”

“Yeah, me too.”

“I still don’t get it. This is your blog, yet you act like you are a victim of all these visitors.”

“I get that feeling sometimes.”

“What’s with your generation of writers anyway?”

“What do you mean?”

“You all talk about your characters going off and running the show.”

“It does occur once in a while.”

“What are you, a wimp? You have the keyboard, for heaven’s sake.”

“As a general rule, yes.”

“So what happens?”

“A writer allows a character to go in a certain direction, and then before long, it seems like the character is writing the scene.”

“Sound like hocus pocus.”

“That’s a generalization.”

“I’ll stick to things I can see.”

“Like what?”

“VooDoo Ranger.”

“You’re obsessed.”

“I prefer to say ‘genteel.’ Of course, maybe it’s genetic.”

“Let’s cut the ‘gen’ generation and get to the pub.”

“A genuine suggestion.”

“Quit it.”

“Uber is on the way.”

“Genial thought.”

“Now you quit it.”

The air is filled with the first signs of spring. The coffee machine has granted another hassle-free cup of life-giving elixir. The first sip jogs the memory. There is still a circus in the backyard. Avoiding the truth, my thoughts turned to the bottle of milk I emptied on a bowl of Raisin Bran Crunch. A run to the store will have to be made before another serving. Putting a reminder in my phone, my attention is shattered by the loudspeaker outside. “Ladies and Gentlemen and children of all ages. I direct your attention to the ceiling. High above the arena awaits the lovely Petunia Pig. She is the queen of the flying trapeze.” A quick entrance into the tent confirmed Petunia Pig bathed in white hot spotlights at the very top of the tent.

The music begins, and she starts swaying on the bar of a trapeze. The diamonds in her tiara reflect the spotlights, producing dancing light flashes. The crowd goes quiet as she picks up momentum and then erupts in a collective sound of surprise as she leaves the one swinging bar and catches another. She flips around and catches a third trapeze in time to prevent a bone-crushing fall. Porky hangs by his knees upside down on the fourth swing and maintains a back-and-forward swinging motion while continuing to bring his hooves together and then apart as a signal he is ready to catch the flying queen.

Petunia builds momentum on her trapeze as the music keeps time to her motion. Once she reaches the highest point of the swing arc, she lets go. Like a soaring bird, she flies toward Porky. He is ready for her, and in one heartstopping moment, he snatches her from sure death. The crowd, as one lets up a monster, cheer. The band increases the volume of the music, and Porky lifts Petunia to the still-swinging bar. He joins her, and in tandem, they acknowledge the adoration of those below.

My neck hurts from straining to see and the tension of the moment. Turning to leave, my progress is stopped by a bump into Speedy Gonzales. “Ah, senor,” he says. “I have an envelope for you.” My first thought was to run away, but that would be a hopeless gesture. Speedy hands me the envelope. Inside is the message we all expect from Linda Hill. It reads. Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “the last thing you emptied.” Think of the last thing you emptied or something you empty often and use it as your prompt any way you like. Have fun!

If you want to have fun, visit Linda’s blog and read how easy it is. Here is the link.

https://lindaghill.com/2023/03/24/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-march-25-2023/

The Last Thing Emptied by John W. Howell © 2023

“So the last thing you emptied was a bottle of milk?”

“Yeah, that was it.”

“You’re supposed to write about it and not the circus.”

“Tell that to Porky and Petunia pig.”

“How long is this circus fixation with you going to last.”

“Till I get rid of all those Warner Brothers-looking characters.”

“Now, wait a minute. This is all fiction. You can just stop it.”

“Tell that to Foghorn Leghorn. He’s due to perform next week.”

“You know how nuts you sound, right?”

“This is a blog, not real life. The readers like the characters, so the show must go on.”

“I hope by the end of the day I can look back on the last thing I emptied being different from a bottle of milk.”

“Let me guess. A VooDoo Ranger Imperial.”

“You got it. Know where we can find some?”

“You still have your Uber app?”

“Yup.”

“Then I know where to find the last thing you will empty today.”

“Bless you, my man.”