Session September 6, 2014

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"They loved cheese, especially cheese with rye crackers."

by CC

Porter the Prairie Dog came up out of his hole one day and thought, hey, winter’s passed and the weather is just fine. It’s time for a celebration! I think I’ll eat that peanut I’ve been saving for months now.  He went back in his hole and rummaged around until he found it, buried at the bottom of the chest in which he stored his linens. He held it up and looked at it: Not petrified yet. He shook it and heard the satisfying rattle inside. Yes, the nuts were still plump and juicy! He hurried up and out the hole. Breathing slowly, face turned to the sun, he soaked up the joy of the moment. Life above ground was dangerous, but also lovely. He brought the peanut up to his lips.

Then suddenly there they were: Four fledglings with mayhem on their tiny bird brains. He clung to his peanut as they attempted to wrest it from him. Hooligans! He shouted. One of them cried We’re starving you jerk. Our mother was eaten by a coyote two days ago. You shouldn’t call names if you don’t know the story.

Abashed, Porter stopped holding his nut so tightly and let the bird snatch it out of his hands. This was a major disappointment, but if they were starving, then he would share.

Ha ha ha, cried the bird. You’ll believe anything, you stupid old dog!

Porter was shocked. He had been fooled by these awful young hoodlums. Then he remembered they loved cheese, especially cheese with rye crackers. He thought he might have some downstairs. He could squeeze a little rattlesnake venom on them from that illegal fang he had carefully hidden under his bed. The Prairie Dog Police would never suspect he had it, even if these criminal brats just dropped dead. He could just say the cheese was moldy! Brightening, he said, "Oh, I have cheese and rye crackers in my hole. If you’re so hungry, maybe you’d like some!" 

Like we’re going to fall for that cried the bird. You’re dumber than we thought. As they flew off, the peanut shell hit Porter on the head.

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"It hadn't taken any time at all, but left them feeling hollow."

by TT

Ella and her mother, Martha, went to the shelter for abused and abandoned animals. They were looking for a pony for Ella but the only thing available to ride was a crocodile. So they took him home. They put the reins on his halter and Ella rode the crocodile around the yard. Martha watched. It was not a stimulating experience since the croc - they named him "Dundee, the Croc" - only waddled around at an almost deadly slow pace - at least until Dundee saw Felicia, the duck, and went charging after her. He quickly gulped down the duck after stopping abruptly and making Ella fall off and skin up her knees. It hadn't taken any time at all for the croc to eat the duck but it left them feeling hollow. What next? The next quick ride would probably be their unsuspicious cat basking on the steps. Ella said "Giddie up Dundee" but the crocodile wasn't greedy and left the cat for another ride.

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"He ran from the disturbed man, who was obviously on a rampage."

by RMAF

He ran from the disturbed man, who was obviously on a rampage. He went into hiding and asked three beer buddies "Do you want to go on a swinging picnic with me?"

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"The roads were blocked, they had to be self-sufficient."

by PV

"Jeeze Louise!" snorted Herbert. Ever since their unparalleled escape from the zoo in search for new freedom from being subject to a miscellany of onlookers, they had been on the run - it was true that skyscrapers and tall buildings offered hiding places, but here the buildings were like wonderfully silent trees responding to the vagaries of winds. They screamed through scattered opened windows - and the cell phone noise to Louise's sensitive ears was too much. The roads were blocked, they had to be self-sufficient, so when Louise spread-eagled into the subway car, Herbert didn't know if he could follow. Maybe there was some obvious gas being dispensed from the big brother cylinders on the wall. Certainly no one seemed to be taking the slightest notice of them. Ah well.

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“Lucy always had hope, even on the darkest days”

by RC

Lucy was going on an outing! This was something special, because Lucy never went anywhere. She was just a tad bit over eighty—that’s how she liked to describe her age, without ever saying just how old she was—but she was a “spry old bird”, according to her good friend, Angus. He was also in his eighties, but he proudly proclaimed to anyone that he was eighty seven; and the reason for his wonderful health—he said—was that he had never gone through a day without his constitutional. These days, that consisted of a good, brisk walk around the lake.

But this day they were both going with a group of friends on an outing along the coast. Lucy couldn’t remember the last time she had been on the water, but whenever it was, she thought that she had had enormous fun. The boat held fifty passengers and there were only fifteen, so everyone had room to move around and take in the view. They saw the annual dophin run, lots of cormorants and pelicans, and some jumping fish, and they were on the way back in. As far as Lucy was concerned, it had been a lovely day. Angus had even held her hand once, when the boat bounced around a little.

As they approached the bay, someone called out in alarm, pointing to seaward. There, extending from the thick clouds above to the gray water below, was an enormous water spout, and it seemed to be gaining on them. Well, Lucy was not too troubled, more excited and interested in seeing what would happen next. This is because Lucy always had hope, even on the darkest days. While everyone else was shouting and running around—as if there were anywhere to take shelter—Lucy stood at the rail and admired the fine form of the spout, and the way it made gigantic circles in the water.

Sure enough, it eventually overtook them, and in a flash of foamy water took them –the entire boat with all of the people on it—straight up into the air. Lucy was dazzled by the light coming through the thick layer of water droplets, and her clothes were totally soaked, but miraculously it seemed that no one was being sucked out of the boat. The spout kept moving, with them in its clutch, until it was over land, at which time it seemed to lose all its strength—but slowly. As if the boat was a feather, the spout deposited it right on the lawn of Arduf McPherson’s house. Now, Arduf McPherson was also in the eighty’s club, but he had declined the invitation to go on the outing, so Lucy was particularly pleased that the boat had come down on his lawn, and that—to his utter astonishment, as he ran out onto his front porch—with everyone sound and safe.

A look of triumph in Lucy’s eyes was the first thing that Arduf noticed.