After a lousy night’s sleep, there is nothing better than a big cup of joe. It is always appreciated when the machine is ready to go and delivers that steaming cure for the firetruck siren in my head from caffeine withdrawal. The first sip turns the siren off. As we know, the second sip is accompanied by the sound of the doorbell’s Westminster chimes. This annoying intrusion is then followed by the “Bark them to St Louis” reaction of Twiggy and Tempeste.

The quiet is stunning. There are no chimes or baying of Igor’s hounds. Checked the security monitor in case something was missed, but there was nothing. After turning on the infrared laser and painting the porch area, the image of a visitor appears. It is Casper the friendly ghost. The security shutdown process is begun out of curiosity.

The B-2 bomber squadron and the F-35 escort must be called off. One call does it. The tank corps and gunboats are told to stand by. The Apache helicopters are rerouted. The electric shock fence is turned off. The drawbridge over the quicksand is lowered. The robot attack dogs returned to their charging station. The laser-guided machine guns on the roof are set to caution. The nest filled with rattlesnakes put away. The bucket filled with 1000 marbles is locked down. The tear gas canisters shut off. The electrified welcome mat set to off. The fall-away sidewalk into the pit filled with spikes is locked. The hornet’s nest closed. The water cannons are set to safety. Bear traps are set to off. Peregrine Falcons perched on the roof above front door fed. The vat of boiling oil set to warm. Monty Python’s Harmless Little Rabbit’s cage is closed. The front door is opened.

Casper is standing in the glow of the laser, a clipboard and an envelope hovering near him. Taking both and returning the signed clipboard with a fiver,  a tip comes to mind. “When we seek to discover the best in others, we somehow bring out the best in ourselves.” — William Arthur Ward. It is given to Csper, and he leaves.

Inside the envelope is a message from Linda Hill. It reads:

Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “sleep.” Use it any way you’d like. Enjoy!

To see what others have done with the prompts, visit Linda’s post. Here is the link.

https://lindaghill.com/2026/08/28/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-august-29-2026/

Sleep by John W. Howell ©2026

“Man, I had a bad night’s sleep last night.”

“What’s the problem?”

“Oh, I don’t know. I kept thinking about our Uber ride today.”

“What about the ride?”

“I’m worried you won’t like it.”

“Since when does that even count?”

“You know I want you to enjoy your ride to the pub.”

“And yet I usually arrive needing a shower and an electroshock treatment.”

“Aw, it’s not that bad.”

“I’ve been in a neck brace all week from falling out of that 10-story car.”

“This week will be different. Look over there.”

“I must say this is an improvement. I think it’s a 2015 Dodge Challenger R/T Scat Pack, 6.4-liter (392) HEMI V8, in Sublime Green.”

“Well, you would know.”

“What’s the catch?”

“Aw, come on.”

“There is always a catch.”

“There’s only a driver’s seat.”

“So we sit on the floor?”

“Cushions, actually.”

“Doesn’t sound too bad.”

“I’m worried about you getting out.”

“Why’s that?”

“*Cough.* You are no spring chicken.”

“You worry about you. Ouch.”

“What was that?”

“I think I broke a fibula.”

“What?”

“Just kidding. Let’s go.”

 

 

The glass touchscreen on the coffee machine is glowing with a soft light. A quick thump of the top brings up the icons. The best guess is the machine was caught sleeping, and, of course, we will never know. A touch of the two coffee button starts the flow of the life-giving elixir that promises to quell the falling Mosler Safe hitting the concrete sound that the lack of caffeine is duplicating in my head.

The first sip does the job. The second sip (Of course) is accompanied by the Westminster chime of the doorbell and the eardrum-bleeding cacophony of Igor’s hounds, Twigy and Tempeste. A toss of a veggie burger into the soundproof room and a slam of the door brings the peace train into the station. A check of the security monitor shows what appears to be Gladstone Gander holding a clipboard and envelope. Since asking anyone to simply leave the envelope has never worked, the security shutdown process is begun.

The B-2 bomber squadron and the F-35 escort must be called off. One call does it. The tank corps and gunboats are told to stand by. The Apache helicopters are rerouted. The electric shock fence is turned off. The drawbridge over the quicksand is lowered. The robot attack dogs returned to their charging station. The laser-guided machine guns on the roof are set to caution. The nest filled with rattlesnakes put away. The bucket filled with 1000 marbles is locked down. The tear gas canisters shut off. The electrified welcome mat set to off. The fall-away sidewalk into the pit filled with spikes is locked. The hornet’s nest closed. The water cannons are set to safety. Bear traps are set to off. Peregrine Falcons perched on the roof above front door fed. The vat of boiling oil set to warm. Monty Python’s Harmless Little Rabbit’s cage is closed. The front door is opened.

Gladstone Gander hands me the clipboard and envelope. The signed clipboard is handed back with a fiver. Once in the house, the envelope reveals a message from Linda Hill. It reads: Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “Starts with gl. Find a word that starts with “gl” and use it any way you’d like. Have fun!

To see what others did with the prompt, visit Linda’s post at https://lindaghill.com/2026/08/21/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-august-22-2026/

Starts with GL by John W. Howell © 2026

“So you got the prompt out of the way quickly.”

“Yeah, so fast that Reader Tom probably missed it.”

“Of course there is Reader Jim, to point out what Reader Tom missed.”

“Those two are on it for sure. It seems you know them.”

“Sure do. We worked together in another life.”

“Doing what? Robbing banks?”

“Ha ha ha. No, we were in the drug business.”

“I knew it was some nefarious dealing.”

“Sorry. Just over-the-counter healthcare products.”

“Ah, sorta like VooDoo Rangers.”

“Sorta. You call Uber?”

“Right over there.”

“You have to be kidding me.”

“What’s the problem?”

“We need a ladder to get into that thing.”

“I’m sure there is one in the bed.”

“I hope so. Any other information I should know?”

“That we are going to a dirt truck rally.”

“Swell.”

“It will be fun they said.”

I’m so glad to have this entertainment today.”

“I knew you would be pleased.”

“Not.”

“It will only take a few hours. We have a cooler filled with VooDoo Rangers, too.”

“I’m in.”

“All right, all right, all right.

 

 

 

The coffee machine touchscreen is balled up with different languages. Given the two-year-old beating on pots and pans feeling in my head, it took great restraint to not give in to the bald disappointment of caffeine denial. The machine bawled for someone to help. Pulling the plug and reinserting it turned everything back to normal. The two coffee icon was touched, and the heavenly elixir poured forth.

The first sip sent the kid to the backyard. The second (You know what’s coming) was accompanied by the dual torture of the Westminster Chimes of the doorbell and the glass-cracking din of the hounds of Baskerville trying to bark the intruder to St. Louis. A toss of a wagyu porterhouse steak into the soundproof room, followed by the slamming of the door, reunited the environment to the sound of silence.

A glance at the security monitor showed that the idiot on the porch who can’t read the “Do not ring the doorbell” sign was Br’er Rabbit. With a sigh, the security shutdown process is begun.

The B-2 bomber squadron and the F-35 escort must be called off. One call does it. The tank corps and gunboats are told to stand by. The Apache helicopters are rerouted. The electric shock fence is turned off. The drawbridge over the quicksand is lowered. The robot attack dogs returned to their charging station. The laser-guided machine guns on the roof are set to caution. The nest filled with rattlesnakes put away. The bucket filled with 1000 marbles is locked down. The tear gas canisters are shut off. The electrified welcome mat set to off. The fall-away sidewalk into the pit filled with spikes is locked. The hornet’s nest is closed. The water cannons are set to safety. Bear traps are set to off. Peregrine Falcons perched on the roof above the front door fed. The vat of boiling oil set to warm. The front door is opened.

The rabbit has a clipboard and a letter. He passes them to me, and after signing, it is returned with a fiver, and the advice to watch out for tar babies.

Inside the house, the envelope reveals a message from Dan Antion filling in for Linda Hill, it reads:

Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “Bald, Balled, Bawled” Use one. Use two or use them all any way you’d like. If you manage to use all three, I’ll slide you some bonus points. Enjoy!

To see what others have done with the prompt, visit Linda’s post. Here is the link.

https://lindaghill.com/2026/08/14/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-august-15-2026/

Bald, Balled, Bawled by John W. Howell © 2026

“Looks like you  got some bonus points.”

“Yeah, I had to work hard for them.”

“It didn’t seem too hard.”

“You weren’t writing the post.’

“A little on edge today, are we?”

“No, but making these prompts work is a little difficult sometimes.”

“Okay, I get that. ”

“Did you also get an Uber?”

“Sure did. It’s right over there.”

“How are we supposed to ride in that?”

“What do you mean? There’s room.”

“I don’t mean room. I’m talking about wind, rain, and bugs.”

“Oh, no problem. Here is an all-weather duster and goggles.”

“Okay, now about the catch.”

“One drag race is all.”

“What?”

“We have to swing by the raceway on the way to the pub.”

“How do you know it’s one race?”

“The driver says he doesn’t expect to win, given that he has older technology.”

“What if he does win?”

“Oh. Then it will be hours.”

“Swell.”

“I’ve packed a cooler with VooDoo Rangers just in case.”

“Now you’re talking. Let’s go to the races.”

The coffee machine is ready for me. A finger on the touchscreen is enough to draw a steaming 8-oz cup of soothin’ syrup. The first sip served to quell the shipyard riveting hammer noise in my head from the lack of caffeine. The second (as we know) is accompanied by the cacaphony of Twiggy and Tempest and their St. Louis-bound barking volume and the Westminster chime of the doorbell.

A sweet treat tossed into the soundproof room, and the slamming of the door brings the peace train back into the station. A look at the security monitor identifies the idiot who can’t read. It is none other than the wolf from the story of ” The Little Red Riding Hood. He is holding a clipboard, an envelope, and a handwritten sign. The sign reads “Open the door, or I’ll huff, and I’ll puff and blow your house down. ” My thought is fat chance, but with a sign, the security shutdown process is begun.

The B-2 bomber squadron and the F-35 escort must be called off. One call does it. The tank corps and gunboats are told to stand by. The Apache helicopters are rerouted. The electric shock fence is turned off. The drawbridge over the quicksand is lowered. The robot attack dogs returned to their charging station. The laser-guided machine guns on the roof are set to caution. The nest filled with rattlesnakes put away. The bucket filled with 1000 marbles is locked down. The tear gas canisters shut off. The electrified welcome mat set to off. The fall-away sidewalk into the pit filled with spikes is locked. The hornet’s nest closed. The water cannons are set to safety. Bear traps are set to off. Peregrine Falcons perched on the roof above front door fed. The vat of boiling oil set to warm. The front door is opened.

The wolf looks pleased and hands over the clipboard and envelope. The board is returned with a signature and a fiver clipped to the top. The wolf curls his lip, so a good word has to be shared before slamming the door. The words given to the wolf were by Victor Hugo: “Even the darkest night will end, and the sun will rise.”

The envelope is from Linda Hill with a message inside. It reads: Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “draw.” Use it as a noun, use it as a verb, use it any way you’d like. Have fun!

To see what others have done with the prompt, visit Linda’s post. Here is the link https://lindaghill.com/2026/07/31/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-august-1-2026/

Draw by John W. Howell © 2026

“Did you do the prompt?”

“Of course. It’s in the second  line above.”

“That is very obscure.”

“Well, that is half the fun.”

“For you maybe.”

“I suppose you are right. What kind of Uber do we have today?”

“Today is a lucky draw. Look over there.”

“What is that?”

“Tom says a 1910 Otto Speedster.”

“I see it has plenty of room for us.”

“All we need are goggles and a duster. Here’s yours.”

“Why do I need goggles and a duster?”

“You are sitting in the back.”

“Why’s that?”

“‘Cause I have to navigate from the front.”

“Navigate? It’s not that hard to find the pub.”

“Oh, I forgot to tell you. We have to compete in the classic Grand Prix at the Austin Circuit of the Americas racecourse.”

“How long will that take?”

“We do just one lab. No more than three hours.”

“Three hours for one lap?”

“We are only doing 30 miles an hour.”

“I give up. Let’s go.”

“It will be fun.”

“They said.”

 

 

Sometimes the coffee machinel ikes to prolong the wrecker ball hitting a metal building sound in my brain due to caffeine withdrawal. My guess is that it is jealous of not being able to walk around. When this happens, a subtle reminder of who is the boss gets things back on track. This morning, a message appeared on the touchscreen.

An immediate thump on the top resolved the problem, and two streams of life-restoring elixir began to flow. The first sip quelled the noise in my head. The second (As seems to be the custom now) is accompanied by the cacaphony of Westminster chimes, Tempest, and Twiggy throwing up their warning barrage. A quick toss of a Wagyu steak into the soundproof room and a door slam brought a kind of hush all over the world. A glance at the security monitor revealed the idiot pushing the doorbell. It was none other than Tiny, the WWF champion, with an envelope and a clipboard. Mrs. Howell didn’t raise a fool, so the security shut-down process began.

The B-2 bomber squadron and the F-35 escort must be called off. One call does it. The tank corps and gunboats are told to stand by. The Apache helicopters are rerouted. The electric shock fence is turned off. The drawbridge over the quicksand is lowered. The robot attack dogs are returned to their charging station. The laser-guided machine guns on the roof are set to caution. The nest filled with rattlesnakes is put away. The bucket filled with 1000 marbles is locked down. The tear gas canisters shut off. The electrified welcome mat set to off. The fall-away sidewalk into the pit filled with spikes is locked. The hornet’s nest closed. The water cannons are set to safety. Bear traps are set to off. Peregrine Falcons perched on the roof above front door fed. The vat of boiling oil set to warm. The front door is open.

No time is wasted in signing the clipboard and passing it back with a $20 attached. A smile curled on Tiny’s lip, and it was hard to tell if he was pleased or simply passing gas. Not waiting to find out, the front door quickly came between Tiny and me. The envelope contains a message from Linda Hill. It reads:

Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “sometimes.” Start your post with the word “sometimes.” Have fun!

To see what others have done with the prompt, visit Linda’s post. Here is the link: https://lindaghill.com/2026/07/17/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-july-18-2026/

“Sometimes you amaze me with all that preamble before you, and I get to talk.”

“How so?”

“Well, it would be easy just to try and do the prompt and then come down here and lead the discussion up to a VooDoo ranger,”

“You mean without the character and security system shut down?”

“Yes, and throw out the bit with the coffee maker too.”

“That leaves a discussion between us.”

“Exactly. That’s all we need.”

“What about the readers?”

“What about them?”

“Oh, I get it. You think our discussion is the highlight of the post.”

“Call me naive.”

“Let’s just get on to the pub. Uber?”

“Over there.”

“Wow, a 1935 851 Supercharged Auburn Boattail”

“Yup, and three of us will fit.”

“Pretty cramped.”

“That’s okay.”

“So what’s the catch?”

“None.”

“None?”

“Well.”

“I knew it. Tell me.”

“The starter is on the fritz.”

“What does that mean?”

“We have to push it to get it started.”

“Figures. In this heat, too.”

“Here are some cotton gloves.”

“What are they for?”

“So you don’t get body oil and sweat on the paint.”

“I guess it will be worth it.”

“That’s the spirit.”

“Where are you going?”

“I’m getting in the car.”

“You aren’t going to help push.”

“There is only one set of gloves.”

“So why aren’t you doing it?”

“Bad back.”

“Of course.”

 

 

 

A piece of sourdough toast with peanut butter and grape jelly will go well with coffee this morning.  The machine gives out a full mug with no complaint, and the toaster follows suit. The first sip of coffee stops the pile-driver effect in my brain from being triggered by dangerously low caffeine levels. Of course, the second sip is accompanied by the crashing sound of a full tray of dishes on a tile floor, which is the combination of the Westminster doorbell and the two four-legged warning barks of Twiggy and Tempeste. A toss of a big bone into the soundproof room and a door slam  brings back precious peace.

A glance at the security monitor tells me I am graced with a visit from Roger Rabbit.  He has an envelope and a clipboard, so conversation is fruitless. With a sigh, the security shutdown process begins.

The B-2 bomber squadron and the F-35 escort must be called off. One call does it. The tank corps and gunboats are told to stand by. The Apache helicopters are rerouted. The electric shock fence is turned off. The drawbridge over the quicksand is lowered. The robot attack dogs returned to their charging station. The laser-guided machine guns on the roof are set to caution. The nest filled with rattlesnakes put away. The bucket filled with 1000 marbles is locked down. The tear gas canisters shut off. The electrified welcome mat set to off. The fall-away sidewalk into the pit filled with spikes is locked. The hornet’s nest closed. The water cannons are set to safety. Bear traps are set to off. Peregrine Falcons perched on the roof above front door fed. The vat of boiling oil set to warm. The front door is opened.

Roger hands me the envelope and the clipboard. Keeping the envelope and returning the clipboard with a fiver attached.  ” Control what you can and let go of the rest,” is my other tip. The envelope has a message from Linda Hill. It reads: Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “jelly.” Use it any way you’d like. Enjoy!

To see what others have done with the prompt, visit Linda’s post. Here is the link: https://lindaghill.com/2026/07/10/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-july-11-2026/

Jelly by John W. Howell © 2026

“Roger Rabbit. I haven’t thought about that character in ages.”

“Brings back a memory ot two.”

“Like about Jessica?”

“Well.. Yes.”

“She was a favorite of mine, too. I liked your words of advice.”

“Been useful to me for quite a while.”

“You know what’s useful to me?”

“Let me guess. VooDoo Ranger.”

“You are a genius.”

“Uber?”

“Over there.”

“Goodness. A 1970 300 TD. At least there is enough room for both of us.”

“There is one thing.”

“Of course, there is. What is it?”

“We need to help the owner remove the rust.”

“What? That could take weeks.”

“No we’ll just work on that spot under the left side of the rear window.”

“Above the 300 TD?”

“Yup. That’s it.”

“That doesn’t sound bad.”

“It’s not. Here, take these goggles and respirator.”

“What are those for?”

“The sand blaster.”

“Huh?”

“Yeah, the sand blaster makes a lot of dust.”

“I’ve never done a sandblaster before.”

“Nothing to it. Just aim at the rust, and the machine does the rest.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Stand behind the protective glass barrier.”

“Why?”

“So I don’t get hit.”

“Why aren’t you doing the sandblasting?”

“Hey. I arranged the car. Takes these overalls and this blaster. We need to get going.”

 

Imagine my pique when I approach the coffee machine and see these words on the touchscreen. Of course, the action taken was as any red-blooded person would take. The touchscreen was cleared, and the two coffee buttons engaged. The coffee machine growled to life and delivered the elixir that would put to rest the hammer-meets-anvil sound in my head, indicating a dangerously low level of caffeine. The first sip does just that. The second, as we have come to expect, is accompanied by what sounds like the crashing crescendo of a Yamaha grand piano hitting the Grand Canyon floor. It is the Westminster chime of the doorbell and the baying of Igor’s hounds by Twiggy and Tempeste at the peak of their Barking Back to St Louis duet.

The toss of a bone into the soundproof room and a slam of the door brought Oh Happy Day back to life. A peek at the security monitor confirms that someone on the porch is none other than Pepé Le Pew. Hoping to be able to talk him out of a personal interaction, for obvious reasons, I ask if the envelope he is holding can be left. He assures me that a signature is needed. With a sigh, the security shut down is begun.

The B-2 bomber squadron and the F-35 escort must be called off. One call does it. The tank corps and gunboats are told to stand by. The Apache helicopters are rerouted. The electric shock fence is turned off. The drawbridge over the quicksand is lowered. The robot attack dogs returned to their charging station. The laser-guided machine guns on the roof are set to caution. The nest filled with rattlesnakes put away. The bucket filled with 1000 marbles is locked down. The tear gas canisters shut off. The electrified welcome mat set to off. The fall-away sidewalk into the pit filled with spikes is locked. The hornet’s nest closed. The water cannons are set to safety. Bear traps are set to off. Peregrine Falcons perched on the roof above the front door were fed. The vat of boiling oil set to warm. The front door is opened.

With a clothespin on my nose, the clipboard is signed and returned. A ten-dollar bill is clipped to the board, and the life tip is passed to Pepé. “Don’t play rugby in a cowfield.” The door is shut, and the envelope is opened. Inside is a note from Lnda Hill. It reads: Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “peak/peek/pique.” Use one, use all three (for bonus points), use them any way you’d like. Enjoy!

To see what others have done with the prompt, visit Linda’s post. Here’s the link: https://lindaghill.com/2026/06/26/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-june-27-2026/

Peak/Peek/Pique by John W. Howell © 2026

“Well, nailed the bonus points.”

“Yup. Seemed to work well.”

“What about that coffee machine.”

“I’m the boss.”

“Okay but don’t you need coffee.”

“I do and I’m sure the machine knows that.”

“So shouldn’t you give it some time off?”

“Are you kidding me? It makes three cups of coffee a week. plus some speciality coffees on the weakend.”

“Sounds like a lot.”

“Oh please? It’s not like it is a Starbucks or something. The thing sleeps all day and night and only works five minutes a day.”

“Okay, okay. Didn’t mean to hit the pigue button.”

“Also it is not even near it’s peak capacity. A couple of old folks having coffee is nothing.”

“Okay, I get it. Let’s take a peek at the Uber car over there.”

“I give up. Whar the heck is that?’

“Look like a half finished Ford Bronco.”

“With a milk carton for a seat.”

“Yeah about that.”

“What?’

“The guy borrowed the carton so we have to use our own lawn chairs.”

“I can’t wait to get my hands on a cold VooDoo Ranger. Maybe things will get better.”

“I’ll go get the lwan chairs and the goggles.”

“Goggles?”

“There is a lot of dust and stuff in that Bronco. I’m sure it is going to blow around once we hit the highway.”

“So wearing winter white might be a mistake.”

“I hear Dalmation print is in.”

“Go get the chairs.”

 

 

 

The coffee machine has a strange message on the touchscreen this morning. It reads: Do not miss the latte macchiato. Since part of me is at least one cat life, the cappuccino macchiato button is touched on the screen. Then nothing happens, but a sign pops up that reads 14 seconds of milk. It is followed by total silence. Then a burst of steam and foam begins. Another moment of silence, then, strong espresso flows into the foam. The first sip brings a rush of flavor and the quiet that comes when the machine shop sound of a low-caffeine warning finally stops.

The second sip (okay, say it with me) brings the cacaphony of the Westminster chimes of the doorbell and the eardrum rupture octaves of Twiggy and Tempeste trying their best to bark the visitor to St. Louis. A new bacon-flavored pair of nylon bones tossed into the soundproof room, followed by a door slam, sends the hounds of Baskerville into a cone of silence.

Checking the monitor, it appears that Deputy Dog is on the porch with a clipboard and an envelope. Knowing that conversation is useless, the security shutdown process begins.

The B-2 bomber squadron and the F-35 escort must be called off. One call does it. The tank corps and gunboats are told to stand by. The Apache helicopters are rerouted. The electric shock fence is turned off. The drawbridge over the quicksand is lowered. The robot attack dogs returned to their charging station. The laser-guided machine guns on the roof are set to caution. The nest filled with rattlesnakes was put away. The bucket filled with 1000 marbles is locked down. The tear gas canisters shut off. The electrified welcome mat set to off. The fall-away sidewalk into the pit filled with spikes is locked. The hornet’s nest closed. The water cannons are set to safety. Bear traps are set to off. Peregrine Falcons perched on the roof above front door fed. The vat of boiling oil set to warm. The front door is opened.

The envelope and clipboard are passed to me. After signing, the clipboard is returned with a five-dollar bill under the clip. “Sir, there is no need to tip,” says Deputy Dog. Silently giving a small curse to those who suggested a tip, a word of advice is cast to the dog. “Keep your friends close and your enemies closer.”

Stepping back into the house, the envelope is opened, and inside is a message from Linda Hill. It reads “Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “miss.” Use it any way you’d like. Have fun!”

If you would like to see what others have done with the prompt, visit Linda’s post. Here is the link. https://lindaghill.com/2026/06/19/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-june-20-2026/

Miss by John W. Howell © 2026

“Well, you missed the opportunity to save a tip.”

“Let’s not even talk about it.”

“I like that you did give him some words to live by.”

“I’m sure The Pilgrim liked that as well.”

“You sound ready for a visit to the pub.”

“More than ready. You order an Uber?”

“Right over there.”

“Oh, just perfect. A GTO under construction.”

“All that’s missing is the front bumper and headlights.”

“So riddle me this, Robin. How are we going to get home after dark?”

“That brings up the one stop we have to make before we hit the pub.”

“Please don’t tell me it’s a body shop. That will take hours.”

“No, nothing that complex. We need to stop at Walmart.”

“Walmart? What for?”

“Some duct tape and two flashlights.”

“Please tell me you are kidding.”

“Come on. It’s not a long trip home. A couple of flashlights will be plenty of light.”

“Who pays the ticket when we get pulled over?”

“Hmm. Hadn’t thought of that. Okay, I have a backup. Over there.”

“You are riding on the roof.”

“There is room for three, and it has headlights.”

“Okay, but I call for the seat up front.”

“You got it.”

 

 

The coffee machine has a “welcome guest” message scrolling on the touch screen. With a low-caffeine warning klaxon horn blaring in my head, it is difficult to understand the meaning. Lucky for me, a touch of the two-coffee button starts the flow of the antidote, which could be a fatal deprivation situation. We all know what happens on the first sip and predictably the iron hammer beating on the inside of my skull feeling began to diminish. As usual, the second sip is accompanied by the Westminster chime and Igor’s baying hound cacophony that follows the idiotic ringing of the doorbell. A knuckle bone is thrown into the soundproof room, followed by a door slam. The silence speaks.

A glance at the security monitor shows someone in a Donald Duck costume holding an envelope and a clipboard.  “Just leave it,” was said through the electronics. “Need signature,” came back in a duck’s voice. With a sigh, the security shut-down process began.

The B-2 bomber squadron and the F-35 escort must be called off. One call does it. The tank corps and gunboats are told to stand by. The Apache helicopters are rerouted. The electric shock fence is turned off. The drawbridge over the quicksand is lowered. The robot attack dogs returned to their charging station. The laser-guided machine guns on the roof are set to caution. The nest filled with rattlesnakes put away. The bucket filled with 1000 marbles is locked down. The tear gas canisters shut off. The electrified welcome mat set to off. The fall-away sidewalk into the pit filled with spikes is locked. The hornet’s nest closed. The water cannons are set to safety. Bear traps are set to off. Peregrine Falcons perched on the roof above front door fed. The vat of boiling oil set to warm. The front door is opened.

The clipboard and envelope are passed to me, and then the clipboard is returned with a signature. The person holds out a gloved hand in a classic tip request posture. Feeling sorry for the guy who has to wear a duck costume, I tip him a fiver. He smiles and leaves. The envelope contains a message from Linda Hill. It reads: Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “guest.” Use it any way you’d like. Enjoy!

To see what others have done with the prompt, visit Linda’s post. Here is the link. https://lindaghill.com/2026/06/12/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-june-13-2026/

Guest by John W. Howell © 2025

“You tipped him.”

“Yeah. I’ve been getting blowback when I don’t. Like Winnie the Poo last week.”

“That was pretty cruel.”

“Oh come on. He’s a fictional character.”

“Who has a big heart and nice enough to guest on your blog.”

“Okay, okay. But what about the real people who like the verbal tips.”

“Give both.”

“Whoa. Now that’s a solution. You hear that Pilgrim? Okay done.”

“Speaking of tips.”

“Yes.”

“The Uber is over there.”

“Oh my.”

“Before you say anything hear me out.”

“Okay.”

“This bus is a classic and we get it at a good rate.”

“What’s the catch?”

“A small one.”

“Which is?”

“The First Church of What’s Happening Now choir will be riding with us.”

“Sounds harmless.”

“They’ll be rehearsing for their service.”

“Still sounds okay.”

“Their first song is titled, “Put Down That Booze You Devil, You.”

“Uh huh. I suppose that is not all.”

“They have a few more.”

“I think I can take it.”

“Good cause the price is right.”

“I’ll bet the ride home will be entertaining.”

“You mean with VooDoo Ranger on our breath?”

“And me with one for the road.”

“Humm. I can see it now.”