Waking up on a Saturday carries with it the promise of a visit from one of my favorite cartoon characters. Since that has been the scene for a while, it is almost expected each week. Since it is expected and the front door’s unlocking carries immense protocol and effort, I decided to invest in a new security system.

The installer left yesterday and while my magic brew is under construction, reading the operator’s manual is in order. At the top of the page are the words “Good. Feel Good.” Thinking that the security company has a heart, I couldn’t help but feel comfortable. The brew cycle is finished, and the instructions for the system are entirely consumed while drinking the elixir.

My ring doorbell lets me know there is someone out on the porch. Checking my phone, I could see what appears to be the Tasmanian Devil standing with an envelope in his hand. I can see him gesturing to open the door. Checking my instructions on the door opening procedure, I notice on the control panel the “Time Lock” feature has a blinking red light. The manual says that means it is engaged. The small print also says there is no override and that the door will open at the time indicated on the panel. Checking the board shows the time to open is 9:00 AM.

Since it is 7:00, I use the outside speaker to communicate that the door will open in two hours. The eyebrows of the Tasmanian Devil heads north as he starts to spin. Before long, he has eaten the front door and all the living room furniture. With a loud burp, he drops the envelope and spins back out the hole where the former front door used to be.

Sorry for getting rid of the iron bars, concertina wire, and other barriers; I open the envelope. Sure enough, it is from Linda Hill. The message says, Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “the first 2-5 words at the top of the closest printed matter.” Open (if necessary) the closest printed matter to you. Use the first 2-5 words at the top of the page any way you’d like in your post. Have fun!

If you would like to have, fun, visit Linda and read how easy it is. Here is the link. https://lindaghill.com/2022/07/22/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-july-23-2022/

Good. Feel Good. By John W. Howell © 2022

“What kind of prompt is Good. Feel Good?”

“I followed the instructions and opened some printed matter, which was the second through fifth words at the top.”

“Couldn’t you make up something else?”

“Against the rules.”

“You a Boy Scout?’

“Just want to play by the rules, is all.”

“So you get bonus points?”

“Sometimes.”

“Which you think you can turn in for a Bentley Turbo Convertable?”

“A dream is all.”

“All this seems foolish.”

“To you maybe. There are tons of folks who do these prompts.”

“Doesn’t make it less nuts.”

“Well, we all enjoy it.”

“I guess that is all that counts.”

“You a believer now.”

“No, I just want to move on.”

“To the next subject.”

“No to the pub.”

“You buying?”

“My turn.”

Uber?”

“Just ordered it.”

“Hey, a Bentley Turbo Uber.”

“In your dreams.”

“Exactly.”

“I hope there are peanuts on the bar.”

“In your dreams.”

“Touché”

 

Waiting as usual for the meister of brew to cough up my hot, steaming, frothy cup of joe, a glance toward the newspaper captures a disturbing headline. Customers who have bagged their own groceries are seen as a minimum wage worker threat. Needing more information after the cup is delivered, I grab the paper and head for the back porch.

The story details that the habit some shoppers have of bagging their own groceries is viewed by store bagging employees as threatening their way of life. “Minimum wage phobic,” was how one worker put it. The worker went on to say that a law ought to be passed, making those who have bagged their own groceries guilty of a hate crime.

Sipping my brew and thinking deeply about the issue causes me to miss the first blaring second of the klaxon horn we call a doorbell. Twiggy and Lucy have already gone airborne, so it’s best to see who is there. Then, casting about some turkey treats to turn the dog’s attention to something other than the door, I do the ritual and finally open it.

“I say, boy. This here. I say this here is delivery.” The line came out of Foghorn Leghorn with the velocity to raise my thinning hair. “I say, boy. Don’t. I say, don’t just stand there. I say take this envelope.” It is strange to have someone blowing hot air that has the scent of corn. I take the envelope, and Foghorn Leghorn wishes me a good day and struts off down the street.

Knowing it was from Linda Hill, in no hurry, I watch as the giant chicken disappears around the corner. Turning to the envelope, a quick opening reveals this message. Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “bagged.” Use it any way you’d like. Enjoy! If you want to enjoy, visit Linda’s blog and read how easy it is. Here’s the link. https://lindaghill.com/2022/07/15/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-july-16-2022/

Bagged by John W. Howell © 2022

“No one is going to believe this, you know.”

“It’s fiction. They don’t have to believe it.”

“But you are spreading falsehoods.”

“Happy falsehoods.”

“Huh.”

“Readers like to hear about happy, no-brainer stuff.”

“You certainly have the no-brainer covered.”

“What’s wrong with a little fantasy fun?”

“Well, for one, this is a serious world full of serious problems that should be taken seriously.”

“All the more reason to have a diversion from all that seriousness.”

“This is getting tense. I’m all for getting this discussion bagged and heading for the pub.”

“What about all those serious subjects?”

“You have your fantasy way of coping. I have my barley pop method.”

“It’s good you are buying.”

“Yes, with that in mind, let’s walk.”

“You going to be overserved?”

“Let’s just say it might be a possibility.”

“Walking is good.”

 

 

 

 

 

A nice sit on the back porch and a concert by the cardinal intent to broadcast his availability is interrupted by a tone on my phone. (I didn’t mean that rhyme.) A quick look on the screen shows a large box on the porch. Thank heavens it didn’t fall into the backyard, is my thought while going through the unlock process.

A gate of steel rolled back, four bolts unlocked, two crossbars lifted, and the front door is thrown open. A mental note is made to replace all this stuff with a security sensor. There is nothing on the box to indicate the contents or sender, but the assumption is it’s from Linda Hill. A walk around the box reveals nothing.

All of a sudden (Love that), a whirring noise accompanies the slow rise of the top of the box. The decision was made to step back just as the top fell to the driveway. Inside the box, a strange green color glows as a hand clutching some kind of gun rises from within.

Soon a green helmated character in a green skirt follows the hand. “Where’s the kaboom? There was supposed to be an earth-shattering kaboom,” says the character. The realization comes to me that this is Marvin the Martain in person. I immediately apologize for the lack of a kaboom, and Marvin hands me an envelope. (Of course)

Marvin continues to rise and disappears in a large fluffy cloud. I open the envelope to find a message. Here is what it says, Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “make a note.” Do with it what you will. Have fun!

If you would like to have fun, visit Linda’s blog and read how easy it is. Here is the link. https://lindaghill.com/2022/07/08/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-july-9-2022/

Make a note by John W. Howell © 2022

“I don’t even remember Marvin the Martain.”

“I made a note to look up the Warner Brother’s characters and was surprised that he’s been around since 1948.”

“That’s hard to believe.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“What is the fascination with these characters anyway?”

“No real explanation other than I always liked them and find them fun.”

“So they become part of your intro.”

“Exactly.”

“And you aren’t nuts.”

“I don’t think so.”

“I’m going to make a note.”

“About what?”

“To ask for an appearance by Foghorn Leghorn.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really.”

“That is so easy to arrange.”

“I would love that.”

“Consider it done.”

“Calls for a Voo Doo Ranger.”

“Or two. I’m buying.”

“Even better. I’ll do Über.”

“Done.”

 

 

 

Ah yes, Saturday morning. Birds are chirping, and there is a right feeling about the world. It is a little too warm, but the sky is bright blue without a trace of a cloud, marring the sense of serenity. The mood machine is ready to dispense the calming fluid, and it looks like a relaxing day ahead.

The sound of a  far away and tight whistle coming from what seems to be the stratosphere reaches my ears. The tone is getting louder and more distinct. Moving to the patio allows me to witness a shadow growing from the size of a sugar cube. The whistle gets louder and the shadow bigger. The brain finally puts it all together. It appears that another delivery from the sky is about to impact the backyard turf.

Making a move under the porch cover happens with an almost simultaneous explosion of dirt, turf, and pieces of wood. Thank heavens the coffee was covered with my hand before the sunami of debris. Once settled, a cautious walk to the crater is rewarded with the sight of an animal in a skydiving outfit that looks precisely like Daffy Duck. “Suffering succotash. They should have told me to let go of the box.”

“Are you hurt?” is my reply. Daffy leads me to believe he is not hurt but a little disappointed in the instructions given by the ACME air freight company. He also gestures to the mess in the hole and shakes his head. “I’m afraid your product is a total loss,” he says.

Peering over the edge, it is hard to make out the nature of the product, so there is no alternative but to ask, “What’s the product?”

“Produce,” comes the reply. “Cumquats specifically.”

Not having ordered the cumquats, there follows a series of questions regarding where they were from and if the address is correct on the delivery. By this time, Daffy is near the end of his patience. He hands me an envelope and asks if the name on the front is mine. Confirming it is causes him to jump out of the hole. He raises his hand, grabs a bar suspended by a rope from a helicopter, and is plucked away.

Thoughts about who will pay to have the yard fixed run through my mind as I open the envelope. Sure enough, the sender is Linda Hill, and here is what the message says.

Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “product/produce.” Use one, use them both, use them any way you’d like. Bonus points if you use both. Have fun!

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

https://lindaghill.com/2022/06/24/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-june-25-2022/

Product/Produce by John W. Howell © 2022

“Another character.”

“Yup.”

“Who is going to fix the yard.”

“That is a product of my imagination. There was no delivery.”

“No, produce?”

“Nope.”

“Why do you put us through this then.”

“Gotta introduce the prompt.”

“But you could just say what it is.”

“There’s no fun in that.”

“I’m not sure falling boxes are fun either.”

“To each his own. Maybe I could have a falling beer keg.”

“Now that is worth doing. Dangerous, though.”

“The weight you mean?”

“No, getting the beer too agitated.”

“Good point.”

“Speaking of?”

“Your turn to buy.”

“Easy peasy. I’ll produce my card and charge the product.”

“Let’s leave it alone now.”

“You driving?”

“Yup.”

“Let’s call Über. I think this may be a long barley pop session.”

 

Staring at the cup as the machine finishes its work, the residual effects of my second Covid booster have me fixated on the beauty of the dark frothy liquid. For two days, my body has been in a state that could best be described as hungover. Recalling the days when copious amounts of gin were consumed with an equal quantity of abandon and mirth. The next day was payback for all that fun. It has been years now, but today I feel the effects mirrored by that libertine care abandonment of years ago.

The cup is ready, and it appears that life will continue a sip later. But unfortunately, my phone has sent an alert of a front door visitor. A deep sigh indicates that this might not be the time to entertain whoever may be there. Deciding to ignore the Ring camera and try sipping coffee from a reclining position on the couch, I move the magazine in my way. The cover picture would rattle me on a normal day. Today the sight of a piazza in a cast iron pan is almost enough to inspire a call to 9-1-1.

Forgoing the couch, I go through the process of opening the front door. Chains undid, Locks unlocked, steel bars rolled aside, explosive device unarmed, the door is swung open. I tawt I taw a puddyy tat,” was the first thing to come out of Tweety Bird’s beak. y shock at seeing her was only exceeded by the fact she was ten feet tall. You been hanging around that Alice person?” was my question.

Tweety just smiled and handed me an envelope, turned, and was down the driveway. Pity, the cat, was my thought as I opened the envelope. Inside was a message from Linda Hill. Here’s what it said.

Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “a picture from wherever.” When you sit down to write your post, find a picture, whether in a magazine, newspaper, or even product packaging. Write whatever thought or emotion the picture provokes. Enjoy!

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

https://lindaghill.com/2022/06/10/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-june-11-2022/

A Picture from Wherever by John W. Howell © 2022.

“Feeling rough, huh?”

“Yeah,  a little. better than yesterday.”

“The booster did that?”

“Yeah.  t was the same last time too.”

“So what was with the magazine?”

“The pizza you mean.”

“Okay, the pizza.”

“Can’t explain it.   shot of a pizza in a pan, and I about lost it.”

“You should have gone right to the door.”

“And what come face to face with a ten-foot Tweety earlier?”

“I see your point. hose characters can be a pain for sure.”

“I just can’t figure out why they come around me.”

“Maybe they think you’re a character.”

I suppose that’s it.”

“Well, at least Resa McConaghy thinks it’s a good thing.”

“You saw her post?”

“I sure did. t was terrific so let’s go celebrate.”

“No pizza, right?”

“Just hops and barley.”

“Music to my tastebuds.”

”

 

 

Out of coffee beans was the message on the machine. Time to switch from Columbian to French Roast. Filling the reservoir brought a tweak of excitement in anticipation of a new dark roast flavor. Sure enough, when the process is activated, the machine seems to be in a similar frame of mind. No hesitation, and within seconds, the 10 ounces of life-saving Elixer was delivered into the cup.

With a shaking hand, the cup reaches the mouth for the first sip of the unique blend. Slowly the brain picks up the cues of deep taste, aroma, and mind-altering chemical rush. Yes, indeed, this is heaven on Earth.

Sitting with the coffee and laptop and just starting to go through the day’s mail, there was a crash sound that seems like what a falling bus would sound like if it landed in the backyard. Why that sound is familiar is a piece of irony and a story for another time.

Getting up from my comfort and hazarding a look into the backyard, there was no surprise in seeing a big yellow iron bus buried up to the hubcaps in the turf. A sigh escaped my lips since it appears that an investigation would be necessary. “First finish the coffee” was an order from the brain department. A second or two after returning to my seat, the doorbell rings.

What the hell good is it to put a sign on the doorbell not to ring it when every Tom, Dick, and Harry ignores the sign? Theseare the thoughts as I pull Twiggy and Lucy from the ceiling. The front door requires a disarming procedure which takes a few minutes. The door finally gives way, and a stranger asks. “Have you seen a bus anywhere around here?”

“Elmer Fudd?” The question shoots out of my mouth before the brain can catch it. The answer is a surprise. The character declines to admit he is Elmer Fudd but hands me an envelope and tips his hunting hat. “That Waskely Wabbit took my bus, and if you see it or him, tell him he is on the menu for tonight.”

Rather than get involved, I thanked Elmer for the envelope and slowly shut the door. The bus will have to wait while the envelope receives full attention. No surprise, it is from Linda Hill with a message inside. The message reads. Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “iron(y).” Use “iron,” use “irony,” or use both. Use them any way you’d like. Bonus points if you use both. Have fun!

If you would like to have fun, just go to Linda’s blog and read how. Here is the link.

https://lindaghill.com/2022/06/03/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-june-4-2022/

Iron(y) by John W. Howell © 2022

“So you burned up all our time with that silly story.”

“Had to be told.”

“Iron bus in the backyard.”

“Funny visual, wouldn’t you say.”

“Good thing there is no fact-checker on this blog.”

“It’s fiction, remember.”

“Yeah, but a falling bus.”

“The irony here is how do you get a bus out of your backyard?”

“Let’s not even go there. so the prompt is iron?”

“Iron and irony. Got em both. Bonus cha-ching.”

“Which reminds me.”

“Of what.”

“Iron City beer. Ever hear of it?”

“Of course. The producer is from Pittsburgh.”

“Think we can get some?”

“The pub master can certainly tell us.”

“The irony is we need someone to tell us if the beer is available.”

“Rather than what?”

“Sitting drinking it.”

“Good point. Let’s go.”

 

Back home after a week of family and fun, looking forward to sipping the hot frothy beverage that has been hailed through the centuries as one of the pillars of life. The machine finally presents me with ten ounces of heaven, and a stroll in the garden is top on the list.

Disengaging the security system, flipping the machine gun tower switch to stand by, powering back the concertina wire, and disarming the claymore mines renders the backyard clear for a walk.

Passing the array of flowers gives new meaning to the word “home.” It is clear that rest is a welcome thing after a journey of a thousand gins. While admiring a particularly gorgeous rose, a sense of not being alone comes over me. A quick turn brings me face to face with a Cheshire Cat smoking a hookah while drifting about three feet off of terra firma.

“You, John?” A funny question coming from a cat. The short reply, “yes,” seems to satisfy its curiosity since its smile becomes more extensive. The cat takes a drag of the hookah pipe and hands me an envelope. A Thanks to the cat is met by a nod and puff of smoke. Once the air is clear, that cat is nowhere to be found.

I open the envelope, and inside is a message from Linda Hill, which reads, Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “clear.” Use it any way you’d like. Enjoy!

If you would like to enjoy this frivolity, visit Linda Hill’s blog and read how easy it is. Here is the link, https://lindaghill.com/2022/05/20/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-may-21-2022

Clear by John W. Howell © 2022

“Clear.”

“What are you doing?”

“Getting ready to start my airplane engine. You always yell out the window to ensure everyone knows to stay away from the propeller.”

“I don’t see an airplane.”

“I know. It’s my imagination.”

“Like that Cheshire Cat?”

“Exactly.”

“I’m starting to worry about you. It’s clear you are having some kind of event.”

“I’m just making sure I have the prompt covered.”

“I think you are in the clear on that.”

“Oh, thank you.”

“It wasn’t a compliment. You have me concerned.”

“Why?”

“Those tales about machine guns and concertina wire. I think you have some kind of bout with paranoia.”

“You wouldn’t think that if you had to put up with the characters that come a calling on Saturday.”

“Delusional.”

“Huh?”

“Another issue getting harder to bear.”

“Sounds good.”

“What?”

“A beer.”

“I said bear.”

“Where?”

“Just shoot me. Okay, I give. Who’s buying?”

“Whoever said beer first.”

“You.”

“Okay, I’ll need to raise some cash. Know anyone who wants to buy a slightly used Cheshire Cat?”

“Never mind. I’ll buy.”

 

 

Getting past the coffee prep gave me zero problems. Sipping the fresh brew caused me to believe that there would be zilch to worry about on this beautiful Saturday morning. Then, as my feet hit the footstool on the back porch, the zip of a figure passed the corner of my eye. Thinking it, another eye floater caused a return to the peaceful reverie and aromatic cup.

“Excuse me.” The words crashed into my consciousness like a hammer through the front window. Looking at the figure before me sent a register to the brain that this was no floater but a person in overalls.

“Yes?” Was all that could be mustered as a response.

“We have a delivery for Fiction Favorites.”

Shaking my head to try and understand how this person got over the moat, past the towers, and through the concertina wire, words did not immediately form for delivery. Then, finally, the words lined up in some semblance of order and marched out of my mouth. “I am Fiction Favorites.” is how they presented themselves.

The guy in overalls nodded and then spoke into a phone, indicating that they had reached the right place. It was only then that the realization of a hovering helicopter came into focus. At least that answered the question of how the security was breached. A mental note was made to the effect of installing antiaircraft systems to prevent such an occurrence again.

After a few more words, a large box descended from the helicopter and gently landed on the turf. The guy handed me a clipboard pointing to a signature line. Being a victim of being told what to do forever, my signature was proffered as directed. The guy grabbed a line and was yanked into the belly door, and the entire machine disappeared.

I pulled the string that said “pull to open,” and about 100 multicolored balloons went skyward. Such a sight brought a smile while reaching for the note on the bottom of the box. It was, of course, from Linda Hill, and here’s what it said. Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “zip, zero, zilch.” Use one, use ’em all, bonus points if you use all three. Have fun!

If you would like to have fun, go to Linda’s blog and read how easy t is. Here is the link.

https://lindaghill.com/2022/04/29/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-april-30-2022/

Zip Zero Zilch by John W. Howell © 2022.

“Did you find out who the guy in overalls was?”

“No. It didn’t matter. I got the prompt.”

“Sometimes, you have zero sense.”

“What do you mean?”

“Don’t you think your readers would like to know?”

“I think their interest would be zilch.”

“Why do you say that?”

“The whole idea is the prompt. It means zip on who delivers it.”

“Not from what I read when a Warner brothers character shows up.”

“Well, that’s different.”

“How so?”

“Those characters are loved. This was a guy making a delivery.”

“From a helicopter.”

“There is that, I guess.”

“Did you  get any markings on the helicopter?”

“No. There wasn’t time.”

“What’s this about antiaircraft systems?”

“Fictional license.”

“Like the rest?”

“Yup.”

“Is VooDooRanger real?”

“You bet.”

“Your turn to buy.”

“I didn’t mention something.”

“What?”

“There were 24 bottles of VooDoo Ranger in the box.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Nope, and a box of Hanover sourdough hard pretzels.”

“You get paid for these endorsements.”

“No, I just know what I like.”

“Okay, then let’s go.”

“French onion or France?”

“Pardon me?”

“Dip. What kind to go with the pretzels?”

“Where do you get dips.”

“Same place as the VooDoo Ranger.”

“French onion.”

“Good choice.”

“Can we go now?”

“After you.”