Food seems to be preoccupying a lot of people’s minds around this time of year. The 23rd was Melba Toast Day and National Chip and Dip Day; the 24th was National Chocolate Covered Raisin Day; today is both Pecan Day and Waffle Day; tomorrow is National Spinach Day; and the 28th is Something on a Stick Day. Add to that the fact that Sunday also happens to be Easter, which is often associated with candy.
With that in mind, I thought we’d do something a little different this week and have characters commonly associated with food – including characters that are food. Let’s have fun with this one!
As usual, our contest will begin with three things: character, setting, and genre.
We spun, and our three elements are character: cop, setting: fair, and genre: steam punk. Let’s see what you can do with that. lol
Feel free to write a story using those or spin a new set of your own. Be sure to include which three elements you’re using.
- waffle
- cereal mascot
- chef
- baker
- bunny
- banana
- diner patron
- waiter/waitress
- corn dog
- chocolate bunny
- marshmallow
- donut
- cop
- farmer
- vegetarian
- ant
- kitchen
- tree
- field of grass
- inside an egg
- table
- diner
- in the stomach
- fair
- picnic
- backyard barbecue
- police car
- police station
- restaurant
- bakery
- eating contest
- farm
- horror
- sci-fi
- steam punk
- mystery
- fantasy
- romance
- drama
- comedy
- poem
Judging this week are last week’s winners, Bill Engleson and Steph Ellis. 🙂
All submissions should be 100 words in length, give or take 10 words (90 – 110 words). You have until midnight, New York time to submit.
(currently available in the US, the UK, Australia, and other territories), or a similarly priced book of their choosing; alternatively, winners may elect to have the monetary equivalent donated to World Reader or another literacy-related charity.
If you like, you may incorporate the following photo prompt (not required).
@Geoff Holme
#FlashDogs
Word Count: 110
Baker / Bakery / Comedy
Happy Family
“AWRIGHT, ME LUVVER?”
The loud noise made Billy Bun the Baker bash the counter. Wincing, he squinted at Saffron and Chelsea.
“How are you, Dad?”
“Steaming angry!”
“You’re a hot, cross Bun then?”
“Hilarious… You two been baking hash brownies?”
“Possibly,” they sniggered in unison. ”Asleep on the job, were you?”
“Just restin’ me eyes.”
“We saw.”
“Nearly put up a sign – “Do Not Disturb – Baker’s Dozin’!”
“You back for Easter?”
“Yup.”
At uni they’d been nicknamed “The Bath Buns”. Loud retching noises came from the flat above.
“That Mum?”
“Yeah… Morning sickness.”
“She’s got a Bun in the oven?!”
“S’right! Dough ain’t the only thing still rising round here!”
I forgot to add the subtitle: (Current Puns) 😉
Delightful 🙂
@Warwick Daisy
Ant/ Inside an Egg/ Horror
Words – 109
Miscalculation
“March!” shouted Lieutenant Colonel Byron Formicidae of the 871st Battalion.
Hundreds of feet tip-tapped across the chipboard, but L.C. Byron knew from an experience the week before that the sound of their poaching wouldn’t register with the big pink ones.
The young soldiers eagerly marched fifty abreast towards the lone, sweet-smelling object of the Queen’s desire.
“Halt!” screamed L.C. Byron as the sphere loomed next to a steaming mug.
The rip in its purple foil was the target for entry.
L.C. Byron sniffed and prodded it with his foot.
His limb glided through the object’s wall.
A thick white substance engulfed his thorax and within seconds he was buried.
Target Practice
The long range copper scope on the carbine had done the trick again. The zeppelin was a grand way for any modern dandy thief to make his escape, but it was as wide as a barn and no match for his rifle. Having led his men to the fairgrounds to investigate the heist at the mummy exhibit, Captain Phipps treated his men to a large puff of cotton candy as their quarry drifted back to earth in their punctured escape vehicle. His dessert burst from pink to red, followed by a pain in his chest. The mummy burglars had a rifle of their own and weren’t being alive.
@BradyTheWriter
108 Words
cop/fair/steampunk
Whoops forgot a word. (109 words) Delete the original entry if you like.
Target Practice
The long range copper scope on the carbine had done the trick again. The zeppelin was a grand way for any modern dandy thief to make his escape, but it was as wide as a barn and no match for his rifle. Having led his men to the fairgrounds to investigate the heist at the mummy exhibit, Captain Phipps treated his men to a large puff of cotton candy as their quarry drifted back to earth in their punctured escape vehicle. His dessert burst from pink to red, followed by a pain in his chest. The mummy burglars had a rifle of their own and weren’t being captured alive.
@BradyTheWriter
108 Words
cop/fair/steampunk
@firdausp
(108words)
‘SuperAnts’
SuperAnt8 perched high above, observing the troops as they marched to their destination. The two outer lines that of soldiers and the inner one of workers.
Today was Operation Sugar.
His bright red plastic underpants felt stiff but he wore it proudly over the blue spandex suit, it matched his boots and cape.
His earpiece crackled.
“Number eight, we have a situation here. Icing avalanche, workers stuck.”
“Roger that, Number six, on my way,” he replied.
Bugger, he thought, as he pressed the button on his underpants to switch on his jetpack, what a messy job. Now he’d get his cape all sticky, it took forever to clean.
Ant/ bakery/ fantasy
Ants in pants? What a concept! Amusing yarn, Firdaus.
Ants in pants? What a concept! Amusing story, Firdaus.
Oops! Thought the original reply had disappeared into cyberspace…
You’re so funny. I love your wit. Thankyou. I used to have a game called ants in the pants. Plastic ‘ants’ we had to press to get them to hop into a plastic pants. 🙂
@stellakateT
#FlashDog
Chocolate bunny / field of Grass / Sci-Fi
110 words
The Sweetest Ingredient
He’d hidden one hundred and fifty chocolate bunnies in the field of grass, his back ached but he’d been offered a sponsorship deal. Later today the hoards of excited kids would arrive at his farm for the annual egg hunt. He was hoping they wouldn’t be too disappointed. Fifteen years of doing this he was fed up of hiding the traditional ovoid.
Anyway it was easier to put transmitters in the left ear of each bunny. The men in black had told him a signal was required. He thought the lucky ones were off to Disneyland. Not Alpha-Gamma-Dogstar to be the traditional ingredient in eggs for their offspring’s Easter hunt.
Brilliant! love this story!
Happy Easter
@voimaoy
110 words
chocolate bunny/table/horror
The ham was fragrant in the oven. Jerry and Lucy had set the kitchen table with the vintage linen cloth in a cheery tulip print.
David and Sharon began unpacking the appetizers–the hummus and spinach dip, carrot sticks, celery and cherry tomatoes. Jerry opened the wine.
“How have you been,” Lucy asked, adjusting the seasoning for the mashed potatoes
Sharon sighed. “Management is talking restructuring again. The whole department could be let go.”
“I may get a buyout,” David shrugged. “At my age…”
Sharon brought out the Easter basket–jelly beans and marshmallow chicks and 4 chocolate bunnies.
“Life is so uncertain,” Jerry said. “I always eat the ears first.”
@geofflepard
110 words
Cop, fair, steam punk
Creating a seed bank
PC Arbuthnot had two problems: a Catholic, his excessive libido complemented his vigorous sperm. At 2,4 he had sired 14 children. Physically and financially exhausted he moonlighted at Martin’s Magic Fair, providing security for the novel steam rides. Word of his fecundity spread and couples incapable of conception sought his services. Arbuthnot was unhappy, ready to leave; Mr Martin, albeit a stalwart of the Rotary hated the idea of disappointed customers. ‘Ingenuity, Arbuthnot. I will talk to Cook.’
‘Cook, sir?’
‘Creating children is like cooking, is it not?’
And indeed Cook found the answer, securing Miss Crystal Palace 1851 to aide extraction and inventing the turkey baster the same afternoon.
Sweet Revenge
A.J. Walker
Surrounded by broken jars the shopkeeper looked dazed. Sweets were strewn across the shop; it looked like a sugar rainbow had exploded.
“I’m sorry Mr Jones.’ said PC Flanagan, surveying the scene. ‘But I’ll get her.”
Jones studied the bite marks and wooden splinters in his arm.
“When you do, you paddle that vixen. Hard.”
“Knews the fair was back. Had to be you Kandy. These wrappers has you bang to rights too.”
Kandy smiled, her wooden peg teeth streaked with liquorice and sherbet.
“Fair cop. Can’t help meself.”
Flanagan pressed an ebony button on the truncheon. The clockwork opened out the oak paddle like a Japanese fan with menace.
______
WC 110
@zevonesque
Cop, fair, steam punk
Nice one, AJ. Gives a whole new meaning to “beat cop”! I loved the pun in “fair cop”, and the wooden peg teeth to replace the the rotten dentition of a serial sweet sucker – genius! 🙂
[ I wish, however, you’d remember to use that pesky comma in front of someone being addressed: “I’m sorry, Mr Jones.” and “Had to be you, Kandy.” 🙁 ]
Fair cop, Geoff (as opposed to the faintly ridiculous; fair cop Geoff).
But yes, thanks. I must not rush. I must get better.
I will, Geoff. Promise.
@meg_mediocre
109 words
Cop; Fair; Steampunk
The Unfortunate Event at the Fair
“Welcome! Welcome all!”
As the Mayor floated overhead in his lurid green zeppelin Constable Fitzwilliam surveyed the crowded park. His enhanced monocle worked overtime scanning for unauthorised nanotech amongst the shimmering capes and spectacular hats.
There! Hidden within a bloom of confetti. A swarm of bright red dots flew up to the airship and began dissolving the hull.
He fired a stream of paralysers at the source, hearing a shriek as they hit their target.
Calmly strolling through the panicked revellers he approached the perp, a politely fuming lady in rose pink taffeta.
“I do apologise, ma’am,” he doffed his hat, “but I’m afraid you’re coming with me.”
@waitahaiona1
cop/steam punk/fair
Word count: 100
Smell.
Through the crowds he spied her. She was the only person not dressed up like a Victorian crossed with a Jules Verne book.
Bloody Steam Punk fairs, he hated them. All these people mincing about with their airs and graces looking like weirdoes.
Why did he always get stuck on these cases? He’d asked the sergeant numerous times not to send him to any oddball undercover events. But did he listen? No.
Then he saw her again, the woman he had been tailing for weeks. He could recognise her by smell alone—woody and spicy, like a hot cross bun.
Meating Ms. Steak
cop/fair/Steampunk
WC 110
“What brings you here, Bernerd?”
He began, “The doctor said I have high cholesterol, could have a heart attack, told me to stop eating meat. I love meat!”
He paused and looked at the group leader. His eyes widened when he saw a T-bone steak sitting across from him.
“Go on, Bernerd,” The steak insisted.
He hesitated. “I’m a cop working security at the Steampunk Fair. I was on break so I decided to bob for apples. The apples taunted me.”
He continued. “I think not eating meat is bad.”
“What do you think?” Ms. Steak asked the group.
The apples surrounding Bernerd bobbed up and down in sympathetic support.