The coffee is on its way. The machine lives up to the promise of a perfect cup. One sip, and it is clear why the addiction to caffeine is so strong. The senses sharpen, and the mind becomes razor-sharp. Each sip adds to the overall enhancement of the carbon unit. The nose takes in the coffee aroma and sends the signal to the brain. The brain immediately rejects the call and orders the carbon unit into action.

The brain screams the warning, “There is a skunk in the house, and it must be found.” The body is a little slower to respond. It is clear now that the nose might be the best tool to aid the search. The twin team of puma hunters, Twiggy and Lucy, are no help at all. Both seem to understand the risk of coming face-to-face with the critter. The expression on Lucy’s face says it all. “Never shall the twain of skunk and dog meet.”

On my own, to face the possibility tween getting sprayed and moving out of the house, it becomes crucial to find the beast. Having settled on the spray option, the search is done in earnest. All of a sudden, the music reaches my ears. Edith Piaf’s Non Je Ne Regrette Rein is clearly being played in the background. Pepe Le Peu is in my bathtub, surrounded by bubbles. He waves me in and points to an envelope sitting on the sink. Picking up the envelope, the question comes out with no filter. “When are you leaving my house?”

Pepe looks hurt, and guilt immediately grabs me by the throat. Bet to open the envelope, which contains two messages. The first is from Pepe. I can help with the rocket. The second is from Linda hill. Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is twin/tween. Use twin or tween any way you’d like. Bonus points if you use both. Enjoy!

If you would like to participate, go to Linda’s blog and read how easy it is. Here is the link. https://lindaghill.com/2022/12/02/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-dec-3-2022/

Twin/Tween by John W. Howell

“What was he doing in the bathtub?”

“Relaxing, I suppose.”

“Seems like a dumb thing for a skunk to be doing.”

“I thought the same.”

“Then why did you keep it in the start?”

“I thought it would be funny.”

“I think you missed the mark. It’s a fine line tween funny and dumb.”

“Those are twin feelings, I would agree.”

“I think you fell on the dumb side.”

“Well, that’s cold.”

“Just want to keep it real.”

“Real what?”

“Real. You know, authentic.”

“Thanks for the help.”

“Now you’re pouting.”

“Not really. Besides, when did I ever listen to you about dumb things.”

“Yeah, I would say never.”

“Right. Speaking of dumb, do you have money this week.”

“If I say yes, I have to buy, right?”

“Right.”

“Nope.”

“Figures. Call Uber.”

“You know you don’t ‘call’ Uber, don’t you?”

“Yes, I know. It’s a figure of speech. hit the app.”

“Done. Fantasia will be here in five minutes.”

“Fantasia?”

“I’m betting phony name.”

“Like a driver name?”

“Yeh.”

“Let’s hope not.”

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee fills the kitchen as the brown brew heads south into the double-sided glass mug. A touch of half and half turns the liquid into a pleasant caramel color. A sip and gulp bring a smile, and the effects of the caffeine reach the brain.

The unfortunate side effect of the brain getting a wake-up call is the realization that a rocket in the yard needs attention. A look out of the window confirms that the rocket is still there. A scratch of the head produces nothing in terms of a plan. So after coming up with no original thoughts on how to clear this heavy weight on my plate, my last ditch effort is to Google “Rocket Removal.”

After sifting through hundreds of responses, my eye falls on ACME Rocket Removal and Storm Door Company. After calling the number m,ove to the front door starts the security system shut down. Concertina wire recoil”d, tower machine “uns on stand-by,you’d submarine net retracted, boiling oil cooled, claymore mines disengaged, gate pulled back, bolts thrown, locks un locked, door thrown open.

Standing on the porch with an envelope in his hand is Pepe Le Peu. A comment had to be made.”Are you from the ACME Rocket Removal and Screen Door Company?”

“I am and take this envelope. It has our working contract as well as a message from our founder Linda HIll.” Holding my nose I take the envelope and before I could open it Pepe disappeared through the open front door. The envelope had two things. The contrat as Pepe mentioned and as if I didn’t have enough on my plate a message from Linda Hill. It read. Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “on your/my plate.” Use it any way you’d like. Have fun!

Visit Linda’s blog if you would like to read how other authors handle the prompt. Here is the link. https://lindaghill.com/2022/11/25/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-nov-26-2022/

On Your/My Plate by John W. Howell © 2022

“I see you got it done.”

“What?”

“The prompt.”

“Why, thank you.”

“And with you having all that stuff on your plate.”

“What stuff?”

“All the things you have to do.”

“I don’t have a lot to do.”

“That is not what I heard.”

“What did you hear?”

“I heard you had all kinds of things going on.”

“Sure beats me. Who said that?”

“That burial at sea guy you siced on me.”

“I just said that so he would quite inviting me to dinners at that horrible restaurant.”

“It wasn’t so bad.”

“You went?”

“The guy said you would be there.”

“I wasn’t.”

“Yeah no kidding.”

“You didn’t buy did you.”

“Your looking at the proud owner of the King Neptune package.”

“Sound expensive.”

“Not really when you divide it by two.”

“Two?”

“Yup.I named you as my Eternal partner. I think they are going to bill you.”

“Fabulous.”

“Also when I die they’ll come get you.”

“You are kidding, right?”

“Yeah I didn’t buy. I saved you thousands.”

“So I guess I should buy the beer.”

“If you insist.”

“Call Uber. I’m going to need a few.”

“Had you going didn’t I?”

“I admit it. Yes you did.”

“This is a banner day. Uber is on the way.”

Saturday morning is the time to collect thoughts, drink coffee, and enjoy the blessings of life. Saturday morning is not the time to sit and wait for some human-made machine to decide it knows better than its master when the aforementioned coffee should be delivered. Being powerless means spending time begging, cajoling, threatening, and bargaining with a hank of a stuck-up contraption that obviously thinks it has more privilege than a millennial.

Finally, the cough and sputter raise my will to live. Yes, the coffee is being proffered through two tiny spouts into my double-walled glass mug. The dark brew is topped off with a brown sugar color head that just begs to be sipped. Halfway to my lips, a rumble and shake cause the miracle elixir to slosh onto a bare foot. Not wanting to lose the rest, hopping around on one foot needs to be delayed. The extreme danger of caffeine withdrawal also delays the desire to rant and use curse words that would make ears bleed.

A huge sip of the soothing liquid steadies all systems so that the cause of the disruption can adequately be investigated. A look out of the newly installed rear window causes the eye to want to run into the yard for a closer look. But, showing restraint, it stays with me while the brain sorts out the details.

There, in the backyard, standing upright, is a gigantic rocket. Its color can only be described as slate blue. Near the top are the words ACME 9. It is apparent that this vehicle descended and made a perfect landing in my yard. What is not apparent is who the heck decided that this morning would be a perfect time to land this thing here. As if in answer to the question, a small parachute drifts to a soft touchdown next to the rocket.

Picking up the parachute yields an envelope attached. It is from Linda Hill, and the message inside reads. Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “morning.” Use it any way you’d like. Enjoy!

If you want to enjoy, visit Linda’s blog and read how easy it is to join in. Here is the link. https://lindaghill.com/2022/11/18/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-nov-19-2022/

Morning by John W. Howell © 2022.

“Good morning.”

“Don’t start.”

“What?”

“Teasing me about the prompt and my introduction.”

“Oh my. Did we get up on the wrong side of the bed this morning?”

“Quit using the prompt, and everything will be fine.”

“Quit using ‘morning?’ Why.”

“Cause I already finished the prompt.”

“But we usually underscore it by throwing the prompt around down here.”

“We don’t need to do that today ’cause I nailed it.”

“Okay. Well, we’ll let the others, judge.”

“Others?”

“Oh, stop. Don’t make me turn you to face the missing fourth wall.”

“We never look over there.”

“That’s what I’m saying. Just take my word. You could have done better.”

“Wait a minute. How many ways can you use ‘morning?'”

“You could be creative like ‘Morning has broken like the first morning.'”

“Thanks, Kat.”

“Or ‘Angel in the Morning.'”

“I get what you are saying. I could have even put a video at the end of the post.”

“Now you’re talking.”

“It’s past morning and time for the pub.”

“Your turn to buy.”

“Wait a minute, I bought last time.”

“Yeah, only cause you wanted more than I could afford.”

“Okay, call Uber, and I’ll post the video.”

“Done.”

“And done.”

Looking at the coffee machine does not help hurry the process. No matter how much caffeine is needed, the machine has its own timetable. Probably on the COVID relief suppliment plan, is my thought. Yes. Finally, the aromatic brew begins its dribble from the twin spouts. The cup is at long last filled, and a lifesaving sip is delivered.

Having a clear head allows for a detailed examination of the carnage from last week. The plywood panels are in place where the five floor to ceilng glass windows used to be. It is impossible to look out into the yard but the knowledge of the six foot wide and deep hole where the safe used to be is in need of repair also. The plan is to call a contractor and set up a meeing for an estimate of the damage. I’m sure in my current state of impecunity the amount will cause the need for a heart bipass.

As the cup is being finished, my phone alerts me to someone (or something) on the front porch. Thankfully they observe the do not ring doorbell and Twiggy and Lucy continue their nap. The unlock procedure is started. The gate is pulled back, condertina wire coiled, machine guns on standby, mote subnet lifted, Trebuchet disarmed, boiling oil shut off, bolts and locks undone and front door thrown open.

Standing there is someone who looks like Baby Faced Finster. There is a cigar clenched in his teeth and an envelope in his little hand. Baby face peaks. “Look here see. This here is an settlement check. Warner Brothers have decided to cobver the cost of removing Sam and the safe, see. So all yuse have to do is sign this here contract and the money is yours.” He then hands me the envelope and a pen. I look at the check and the contract first but notice one other piece of paper.

The check is for $30,000 and my signature hits the sign before anyone changes their mind. Baby face takes the contract and the pen and disappears down the street. I open the other piece of paper and see it is from Linda Hill. It reads.Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “your favorite word.”Decide on your favorite word and use it in your post any way you’d like. Enjoy!

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

https://lindaghill.com/2022/11/04/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-nov-5-2022/

My Favorite Word by John W. Howell © 2022

“I missed yoyr favorite word.”

“Impecunity.”

“Huh?”

“Yeah it means having little money.”

“Small money?”

“No. Having hardly any money.”

“Ah so why is that a favorite word.”

“Hard to say. I just like it. Sounds better than ‘broke.'”

“So, you broke?”

“No but if I were I would love to use the word.”

“Better be careful what you love.”

“Yeah you’re right. I could end up broke.”

“And then your impecuniousness would prevent beer buying.”

“Look at you. Impecuniousness?”

“Not as dumb as I look. Your turn to buy.”

“I bought last time.”

“You check back on that?”

“Yup.”

“Call Uber.”

“On it.”

The coffee machine has a mind of its own today. While waiting for the life-saving potion, a bowl of store-brand raisin bran crunch is making a poor substitute. Before long, the machine decides a strike might not produce the best result and coughs up the brew. Abandoning the bowl in favor of the mug, a sip reminds me that today is safe blow-up day.

The security system is already down, and Wile E Coyote is busy in the backyard placing packages around the perimeter of the safe. Joining him and seeing he is using ACME C4 charges. All wired to a plunger, and Wile slowly walks away from the safe with it in his hand. He is allowing the wire to slip from the coil around his arm. “Everything okay?” My question catches Wile by surprise. “Of course,” he says. “Where’s Yosemite Sam?” Wile pulls on his chin for a mini-second and responds. “I locked him inside the safe.”

The statement causes my eyebrows to join my hairline. “Is he safe in the safe?” My hand immediately goes to my mouth but too late cause that awful question is already out there.” Wile rolls his eyes. “He’s a lot safer in there than we are out here.” Another statement that threatens to send my eyebrows over the top of my head. It is clear that Wile is about to push the plunger as he gets down on one knee and yells, “Fire in the hole.”

“Just a minute.” The words hit Wile like a baseball headed for an infield double. He rises and walks to meet me. “Let me explain,” he drawls. For the first time, his Texas accent comes to prominence. Must happen when he is angry, my brain tells me.” Look, friend.” He pauses, then continues. “You and I have a contract, and how this goes down is entirely up to me to execute. Why did you stop me?”

Other than cold feet, I didn’t have an answer. My mind calculates the amount of C4 under the safe and comes to the conclusion that there is enough to send it into orbit as opposed to just lifting it over the house and onto a truck. “You think there is too much C4?” is the only response. Wile walks back to the plunger, shaking his head in that I know what I’m doing butt out sort of way. Rather than pushing the plunger, he picks up an envelope from the ground. He comes back and hands it to me, and says, “Some gal left that for you.” He walks back to the plunger and looks at me as he gets down on one knee again.

Opening the envelope, the message from Linda Hill tumbles out. Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “bowl.” Use it as a noun or a verb—use it any way you’d like. Enjoy!

If you want to enjoy, visit Linda’s blog and see how easy it is. Here is the link https://lindaghill.com/2022/10/21/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-oct-22-2022/

Bowl by John W. Howell © 2022

“At least you snuck the prompt in there.”

“Yes, I did. Smartly too, I thought.”

“I’ll give it to you. It was smart. Now, what are you and I going to do with it?”

“Yeah, I see what you mean. Talking about a bowl of beer might not be a good thing.”

“Oh, I don’t know. Doesn’t sound so bad from here, but I get what you’re saying.”

“We could talk about going to the lane to bowl some frames.”

“We could, but you and I have never been bowling.”

“No one needed to know that.”

“Tell falsehoods to your readers? Tsk, tsk.”

“Not falsehood. . . . Fiction.”

“Okay, I guess that is a rationalization you can live with.”

“It’s the truth.”

“Let’s get back to that bowl of beer.”

“Well, at least a pint.”

“You’re buying.”

“Wait a minute. I bought last time.”

“You need to atone for your sins.”

“What sins?”

“Fiction sins.”

“Okay fine.”

“Calling Uber.”