Writing Prompts – Creative Copy Challenge #123

Writing prompts cure writer’s block. Take the 10 random words below and, in the comments, crush writer’s block by creating a cohesive, creative short story tying them together! And remember: after (if) you finish, highlight your words and click the bold button to make them stand out and help you determine if you forgot any words. (If you’ve missed previous writing prompts, do those too.)

  1. Dug
  2. Broke 
  3. Fake
  4. Steal
  5. Flush
  6. Open
  7. Bought
  8. Mumble
  9. Muscle
  10. Common

NOTE: Don’t copy and paste from MS Word. Use a program like notepad that removes formatting or just type in the comment field itself. Also, finish your submission, THEN bold the words. Thanks. (And don’t forget to tweet this and share it with your friends.)

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Resources you should check out:
Thesis: Best Damn Theme on the Web
Collective Ink Well: Personalize Your Thesis Theme
Third Tribe Marketing: Marketing done the right way
Story Structure Demystified: Best damn writing book out there

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79 Comments on “Writing Prompts – Creative Copy Challenge #123”

  1. Shane Arthur says:

    “Bobby, stop mumblin’ and muscle-dug that hole. I ain’t bought that fake-metal plastic shovel for nothin’. We needs to flush this here evidence.”

    “Billy, why ain’t we just open up the toilet and flush it dat way?”

    “Cause some commom Hillbilly done broke into our outhouse, used it, then stealed the whole thing.”

    “Too late, Billy! They here! Grab the bag and run for the Hillbilly!”

  2. Anne Wayman says:

    Dug in, feeling broke; trying for a fake steal-jawed confidence flush. I opened my eyes, wished I hadn’t bought into my own mumble, muscled my breath into common in and out and began to settle.
     
    Way off topic – live eagle cam more than worth the 30 secs of ads – http://www.ustream.tv/channel/decorah-eagles

    • Shane Arthur says:

      @Anne: Loved how you used fake steal-jawed confidence flush
      And I love eagles. If I were a bird, I’d be one of those or a hawk.

    • Chris F. says:

      Wow, I am always amazed at how tightly you can consistently weave the words into such a brief, but coherent and meaningful piece.
       
      Excellent!
       
      And yeah, I like the Eagles.  Glen Frey, Joe Walsh, and…   Oh, wait — you’re not talking about those Eagles, are you?

      (And all smart-assed ‘Eagles’ band joking aside — that video truly was a wonderful experience, and I am in awe.)

    • Ann, this sounds powerful. All those hard consonants – I am clueless, though. Is this about bluffing and losing a poker hand? If so, that’s the power of your writing, to make me visualize that scene.
       
      Speaking of scene, this was the first I’ve ever gone to a live webcam (other than the weatherbug cams) I loved seeing the eagle at rest. Just as cool and unperturbed as it can be.
       
      Thanks for sharing!
       
      Cheers,
       
      Mitch
       

      • Anne Wayman says:

        Love that you saw poker!
        If you watch the eagles – mom’s the bigger one – bit you’ll see them switch nest duty, tidy the nest and hear them talk to each other. Amazing.

  3. Anne Wayman says:

    ditto on the birds… this cam has me in tears of joy, that we’ve still got such creatures.

    • Chris F. says:

      And all smart-assed ‘Eagles’ band joking aside — that video truly was a wonderful experience, and I am in awe.
       

      • Anne Wayman says:

        Chris I’ve been running it most of the day… a wonderful distraction. It’s not video, it’s live.

        • Chris F. says:

          I know, I’m mesmerized.
           
          (And I should have typed “video feed” in my repy above and here where I’d cut ‘n’ pasted it to be a direct reply to you.)

  4. Open your eyes, Briton.” Anubis IV whispered into the mummy’s ear. He inhaled deeply and savored the fresh, psychic scent of pure confidence. He watched intently as this woman, who could not move a muscle ten days ago, broke the rigor mortis of her bindings in one smooth motion. Swinging her powerful arms together, she tore the outer wrapping from each hand, freeing her fingers. Then she dug into the underlying strips of medicated cloth, pulling the odoriferous dressing from still-red flesh.  Reaching toward her face, she ripped more cloth from her mouth and nose and, with a mumble of determination, peeled the coverings from her eyes. They were glued shut, so she pried each eyelid apart gingerly.

    The first thing she saw was a snout. As she refocused, the snout resolved into the feral face of a very ugly person. It laughed as if to say that it agreed with her initial assessment. She smiled in response. The effort to move all those facial muscles brought a flush to her cheeks and a twinkle to the ugly man’s eyes. She opened her mouth to speak but, before any words escaped, the ugly man silenced her with a hairy finger to her lips. A thought passed between them and suddenly, the woman became aware of another presence in the room. As if on cue, a truculent voice sank its poison into her conscious:

    “Well, well. Look who’s all better.” The Queen of Ipil stepped completely into the chamber. “My god! You’re built like a common laborer! Anubis, you old dog, you’ve outdone yourself. She’s been rejuvenated like a market-bought pig ready for the spit. She’s twice the size of the lumpy mass I wheeled in here.”

    “Indeed she is,” cooed Anubis IV. “This is the second time you’ve made a porcine reference to this lovely specimen. Perhaps you should apologize, unless you intend to eat our guest?”

    The Queen of Ipil glared malevolently at Anubis IV before turning back to the bed. With a fake smile revealing thoroughly rotten teeth, she sputtered, “I meant no offense, Briton. You really did look like a flying lechon baboy, crashing into that building like a misguided warhead. Surely, you recall your little flight through the sky?”

    Anubis IV sniffed in the swirling scents. Oh, ho! The Briton is not amused. Our little hag had better watch her tongue. He stood up and stretched luxuriously. “Briton, I know you wish to steal the voice right out of her little hideous head. Do not bother. She will be needed later. In fact, you should thank her for bandaging you up so well. Even though it was I who applied the necessary poultice.”

    The former mummy sat up. “Thank you both. Now, I must leave.” With that, she shoved aside the Queen of Ipil and strode through the chamber door and, looking neither left nor right, headed out from the crude hut and into the harsh light of a sunny Philippine afternoon. The wife of Stephen Hawking was hungry. It was time to hunt.

    • Shane Arthur says:

      @Mitchell: This is the best installment yet! Love it all, especially the last line. Such great visuals I’m getting from this story.

    • Chris F. says:

      Another excellent episode in the evolving saga!
       
      Very well done, Mitch!!!
       
      Can’t wait to see what adventures the WoSH gets into next!
       

    • @Shane, thanks! The words were tailor-made for this episode 🙂
      @Chris, thanks! I’m excited that one of my characters has earned an acronym! W00t!
       
      Cheers,
       
      Mitch
       

  5. Tiffany Hudson says:

    School. I hate it.
    “What’s the matter Coral? You seem more grumpy than normal” Marla mouned.
    “We’re at school” I answered
    “Your smart. Man up girl”
    The classroom door opened. Sam took his place on the other side of me straight away.
    “Mr Cambell. You are late” Our history teacher Miss Clemintin shouted.
    “Sorry miss” He mumbled at her.
    “What happened mummy forgot to wake you up?” Jeff Roberts laughed.
    “Something you got in common then isn’t it?” I sneared at him. People went silent.
    Everyone stared. So I’m the quite, smart little girl who never gets in trouble.
    “Jeff, you just got owned.” Rachel laughed from the back row.
    Rachel is one of my best friends. She’s tall with a super models body. Beautiful round face with a full mouth and almound shapped eyes, green. Dark green. And dark brown hair almost black in waves down her back. She’s popular, beautiful, smart and everyone loves her.
    Everyone laughed with her.
    “Coral, your not just smart are you? I can see that now.” Alfie Cambell said from behind me. Sam’s twin brother.
    I shrugged at him.
    Sam and Alfie looked identicle exsept Alfie has a tiny bit more muscle.
    “Shut it Alfie” Marla growled.
    “Class attention.” Miss Clemintin raised her voice a little and sat on her desk.

    She’s a small women, thin and weiry. Lightly wrinkled, around fifty. Light blue eyes hiden behind rounded glasses and greying brown hair in a bob to her chin. She liked to wear purples and blues alot. A nice but boring personality, but doesn’t toterate lateness unless death.
    “Sorry miss.” everyone muttered a couple girls flushed red.
    Miss Clemintin dug out a dusty book from her desk. Creaked broken leather and rotten pages.
    Nobody seemed even a little bit weirdened out by the look on her face. Awe and amazment.
    “I brought this once apon a time. Back when I was young. It’s a fake of a book that their is ment to only be one of. I have had nine people try to steal it back then.
    Miss clemintin went on and on about that book for the whole lesson. Rachel, Marla walked beside me as we went to lunch. Moaning about her weird behaver.
    “Alfie is apparently in love with you.” Sam said from behind me.
    I wirled around so fast I nearly knocked him over.
    “He’ll get over it.” I said the second I saw Sam’s grim face. He nodded and walked of.
     

    • Shane Arthur says:

      @Tiffany: Great view into the world of students and their dramas. I went to an all boys high school, so we didn’t have anything else to do other than study and break stuff. 🙂

    • Chris F. says:

      This is some entertaining insight into the teenage mind of Miss Coral.
       
      And my curiosity was aroused by the book — what was so special about it???  I wanted to hear more!  ;^)
       
       

    • Tiffany, this is fun. You have a knack for creating descriptive images. It’s nice to see Sam and Coral again!
       
      Cheers,
       
      Mitch
       

  6. Cathy Miller says:

    I never dug being broke so even if I had to fake this writing gig, I’d find a way to steal me some cash so I could be flush once again. So, I’m open to being bought. Don’t mumble your disgust or try to muscle me out. We have more in common than you know.

    P.S. Not autobiographical, of course. 🙂

    • Anne Wayman says:

      lol, neither is mine – you’re going to beat me in the short ones soon Cathy, great job.

      • Cathy Miller says:

        @Anne-I could never wrestle that title away from you. 🙂

        @Shane-thanks, but I think it was the need for “short” since I am so fricking swamped with work that did the trick-amazing what pressure does. 🙂 I have to visit this weekend to get caught up on my CCC reading.

        • Shane Arthur says:

          @Cathy: Pressure does it. I give myself no more than 10 minutes to finish each one. Worked good so far.

    • Shane Arthur says:

      @Cathy: That was awesome. This is so different than what you normally do. Great to see you nailing a different form so well.

    • Chris F. says:

      Excellent and I can totally relate!
       
      Well, in a completely non-autobiographical way, of course.  ;^)
       
      Very nice work!
       

    • Nice, non-biographical blurb here, Cathy! LOL Is the short-form a secondary challenge, like putting the words in order? That’s pretty cool. Right up there with the welcome messages 🙂
       
      Cheers,
       
      Mitch
       

      • Cathy Miller says:

        @Mitch-thanks-I have been so swamped with work that other than the welcomes. I haven’t been able to play. Glad I was able to get in a short one.

        PS-i have been doing the words in order for as long as I can remember-my own private challenge 🙂

  7. margaret says:

    I dug deep in my pocket, severely wrenching my arm socket.
    I thought that I was flush, but all I found was mush.
    I guess that I am broke , but in my purse I’ll poke
    but once it was open all I saw,
     was a fake I.D. and rabbit paw.

    Lean protein gives you muscle, so I guess I’ll have to hustle
    some more flowers to be sold, if I may be so bold. I need a
    healthy meal, which I do not want to steal.
    I guess it is my own damn fault, for all the useless stuff I bought!

    A common money issue, Wait! I think I need a tissue….
    I mumble to myself, I need financial health!!

  8. Chris F. says:

    Running a little late today.  And in spite of my best intentions to complete the story I started in prompt #122, this one simply refused to go there, and instead led me down another path…
     

    Supplier Re-education

    Solomon scowled and pulled back when he saw the quality of product in his latest delivery.   This was worse than the common trash that could be bought in some slum; it looked like the fake stuff Solomon might find in a filthy alley downtown.

    He hesitated, and then touched some to his tongue to give it a test, and then gagged and spit.  Vile.  He could easily tell where it had been stepped on it with some cheap filler.  Solomon grimaced, and then gulped some water to flush the disgusting taste out of his mouth.

    This was unacceptable.  His suppliers were getting lazy and complacent.  It was bad enough that the delivery had arrived late, with his supplier slinking in with a mumble of half-hearted apologies and then scurrying away as soon as the delivery was made.  To leave this wretched garbage was simply too much.  Solomon had a reputation to consider; he couldn’t be associated with this level of product — he’d never be able to show his face in public.

    Solomon was going to have to refresh his suppliers’ memories about the pecking order in this operation.  Teach them a lesson.  Help them refocus their efforts to get in line with Solomon’s expectations.  Solomon normally preferred to keep things dispassionate and businesslike, but he was more than willing to respond when pushed.  And if his suppliers wouldn’t give him the respect he deserved, then he’d have to steal it from them.  He’d simply apply a little muscle; perhaps they needed to end up with a few things broke. That might help bring a little clarity to their way of thinking.  It was unfortunate but entirely deserved.

    He would take care of the matter personally, and immediately.
     
    Solomon made a call to his suppliers and requested they come see him, simply to discuss a few things.  It took a while, but he eventually made contact with one of them.  Solomon was pleased when he finally saw the man approach.  This would make it easier.  Solomon would be less restrained with this one; more willing to use force to get his message across.

    * * *

    “Ouch!”
     
    Jim pulled his hand back with a shake then covered the deep scratches on it with his other hand.
     
    Keri responded, calling out from the living room.  “What’s the matter?”‘
     
    “Your damn cat just scratched the hell out of me!  He really dug in his claws.”
     
    Jim heard Keri approaching through the kitchen. “Did you scare him while he was eating?”
     
    “No, not at all.  He’s just sitting here and meowing like mad.  When I reached down, he freakin’ attacked me.”
     
    “Have you fed him?”
     
    “Yes. He’s got a full bowl of food right next to him.”
     
    Keri stuck her head through the laundry room door and looked down at the cat and the bowl. “Jim, honey.  Solomon’s just upset.  You know he doesn’t like dry food.  Why didn’t you open a can of wet food for him?”
     
    Jim shook his hand and began to protest, then grumbled as he went back into the kitchen to get a can.
     
    “Damn cat runs the place…”
     

     

    • Shane Arthur says:

      @Chris F: You nailed this one, Chris. I’m loving this style of your to write with the perspective of animals. Totally didn’t see it coming. Love when that happens.

      • Chris F. says:

        Thanks, Shane!  This was a fun one to write.  I’m glad I was able to keep your interest and give you a little bit of a surprise in the twist at the end.  😀
         
         
         

    • Chris, that was lovely! You drew me in with that over-the-top drug deal…and flipped me sideways with that cat! Awesome use of the alley as a common denominator!
       
      This was very entertaining…
       
      Cheers,
       
      Mitch
       

    • Kool Aid says:

      @Chris F – so clever!  It totally had me going.  Excellent!

  9. Sorry folk.

    Writer’s block has succeeded today. These words are so COMMON and uninspirational that anything I write with them would appear FAKE–or should I say forced?

    I’ve OPENed my imagination, DUG into its well, FLUSHed out the last vestiges of creativity inside, strained its MUSCLEs, yet I’m still stuck.

    Now I can only MUMBLE, “If only muse could be BOUGHT…” But then I’m BROKE.

    So…anyone know where I could STEAL some muse?

  10. Tanja Cilia says:

    “Straight flush!” Franco yelled, slamming the cards down on the baize table.
    All hell broke loose. “You’re a fake!”  The undercover vice cop dug into his pocket and brought out the Ace of Spades, identical to the one in the ‘winning’ hand.
    Franco’s face was deadpan, save for a muscle in his jaw that went into spasm. He tried to mumble something, but the cop had already clicked the handcuffs shut.
    “You bought off the croupier and thought you’d steal this open championship! You’re no better than a common thief.”
    Game over, in more ways than one.

    • Shane Arthur says:

      @Tanja: That was awesome. I never would have seen these words leading to gambling, but I’m glad you took it there.

  11. Chris F. says:

    Fabulous!  I love the arrest of the pilfering pretender by the poker police!
     
    Very well done!
     

  12. Tanja Cilia says:

    Thank you.  It happened like this:  I posted my blog on the newspaper;
    http://www.timesofmalta.com/blogs/view/20110304/tanja-cilia/flight-of-fancy-an-allegory
    and when I saw the word “flush” I remembered I’d used ‘poker-faced’…

  13. Okay, this is another first for me.  I am continuing the story I started in the previous CCC #122 which we shall call “The Outbreak”.

    …………………
    Three hours had passed and Captain Smith had yet to steal a confession from the common folk interviewed about the infectious disease that was spreading further through the community. “Every fiber in my muscle tells me that some terrorist posing as some fake doctor or scientist unleashed this virus into the open public” he told his rather dim witted associate who barely earned the lieutenant rank he had been bestowed.
     
    They dug for several more hours with interrogations and interviews in a desperate attempt to flush out some clue that would help find the source and or person who may have started this chain reaction. Each conversation was one blurring mumble after another without any clear answer or indication as to how they got sick and why.
     
    “Sir, Sir…” a young woman was running up to the Captain now who looked tired and had bags under his eyes that could carry goblets.
     
    “Sir, we just got a report that the first villager to be infected bought the farm” she said with far less emotion and sympathy than one would expect from a woman.
     
    “Oh Christ” Captain Smith sighed and almost seemed to visibly age at this point.
     
    “This outbreak just broke to a whole new threat level” he responded and then followed up by barking orders about doubling efforts and calling in more agents from the CDC to assist them down here. He knew at that moment that there was not going to be any rest in his near future and now it was a race against the clock, lives will be lost if he is unable to find information quickly.
     
    ………………….

    • Shane Arthur says:

      @Justin: Great job here. Virus outbreak scenarios are incredibly fascinating with me. Love all movies dealing with this.

  14. Nice one, Justin. I hope you’ll be able to continue the series 🙂
     
    Cheers,
     
    Mitch
     

  15. TuxGirl says:

    The toilet flushed.

    I rushed to the bathroom, but I couldn’t open the door. It was locked. I put my ear to the door and listened to my 2-year-old. He was singing his ABCs.

    The toilet flushed again. I jiggled the door handle. “Jackson, honey. Can you unlock the door and let Mommy in?”

    I could tell that the toilet was struggling. Whatever was inside was more than it was used to handling. I mumbled a silent prayer that it was just toilet paper. I pushed against the door, trying to force my way into the bathroom.

    Jackson used to stick with flushing common items like toilet paper, kleenex, and occasionally a washrag. Recently, though, he’d been experimenting with new items. Just last week, he flushed my fake Gucci wallet down the toilet. I’d dug through mounds of wet toilet paper in an attempt to rescue it, but it had been destroyed.

    I pushed harder, my muscles straining at the door. Why in the world did we have an old house with solid wood doors? We didn’t need really high quality for the bathroom doors. I mean, yeah, it makes sense on the external doors so that nobody would break in, but it’s not like somebody’s going to break in and steal my blowdryer!

    I heard a plop as something new fell into the toilet. Finally, with one last push, the frame broke, and I barged into the room. My new perfume, the one I bought yesterday, was sitting in the toilet, surrounded by bubbles. The plunger lay next to the toilet, in a large puddle of water.

    Just as I was about to lose my temper, I saw Jackson sitting there with a large bottle of dish soap. He reached into the toilet, grabbed my perfume bottle, and held it up to me. “Clean for you,” he said with a big smile.

  16. Kool Aid says:


    The girl dug absentmindedly at her palm, the broken blade glinting in the fading light. Her skin around the splinter was flushed with irritation. She glanced up at the open sky, noting the gray haze had changed a bit.
     
    “The wind must be shifting,” she mumbled to herself.
     
    She had been crouched by the crumbled old wall so long her muscles had started to cramp. Slowly she stood, stretched and shouldered her pack. It was only partly full of items she had managed to steal or had bought by trading whatever she found on the road. An old pair of boots with holes in the soles. Another knife, slightly bigger than the broken one. A watch that could be a fake, but she didn’t care. Sunglasses. An old metal water bottle. She remembered when those were so common, people had 3 or 4 each. Now they were like gold.
     
    Giving her hand a shake, she started down the road, checking behind her as she went. The gray haze flowed and swirled across the sky and through the trees behind her, hiding any sign of her passage. But that didn’t mean she wasn’t being followed.

    • The Stand meets the Book of Eli. Sweet! I’m ready for more.
      The gray haze sounds malevolent 🙂 Is it the follower?
       
      Great story, Kool Aid!
       
      Cheers,
       
      Mitch

      • Kool Aid says:

        Mitch – No, I can tell you for sure the haze isn’t the follower.  I haven’t read The Stand in ages!  I had forgotten about that book ~ I’m guessing I need to read it again.  And I loved Book of Eli.  That, plus another series of books I just finished reading, inspired the backdrop a little for this one.  Hopefully, I’ll make a series of it.  My last series here didn’t last so long.
        Thank you!

        • Kool Aid, a series would be fun to read. I had a short-lived series before I started Anubis IV and friends.
           
          I think the key is to have fun. My Larkspur series required too much work – developing a language, inventing a fantasy world constrained by mythology. Ugh. I’ll save that hard work for my novel 🙂
           
          Cheers,
           
          Mitch
           

    • Shane Arthur says:

      @Koolaid: you have to finish this tale. Great scene you set here. This could go so many different ways.

  17. Anne Maybus says:

    Sunlight broke into blushing sky
    Put a flush of colour on the earth nearby.
    I lie face down in the common grass
    And mumble to the ants that pass.

    I tried to steal my love away
    To take his heart with fake displays
    Of qualities I did not own
    And promises of sweet unknowns.

    With muscle tense I feel the guilt
    With open palms feel tears that spilt.
    I’ve bought my way to lonely soil,
    Escaping shame and stark turmoil.

    The ants ignore my sad distress
    And do their work with pure finesse
    I’ve dug my life into a hole
    My world is now beyond control.

  18. Kelly says:

    WHY NOT ME?

    Write about what you know
    I know you ain’t so much
    You, who cut me off in your muscle car yesterday
    All slick grey hair and Rolex calm
    I know your wife can’t stand you
    And your kids don’t know you

    Time flies
    For me the same as for you
    We got that in common
    I make a face and mumble about your arrogance but I got my own
    Yet I ain’t so much, either
    I know it, you ignore it
    Who’s better off?

    Early to bed, early to rise…
    Get up in the morning with a smile
    Plastered on
    Supposed to be good for the heart (even if you fake it
    half the time)
    Sometimes it is kinda good for the mind

    Live one day at a time
    It’s bought and paid for
    Through hard labor
    Hard experience
    Lies
    Hard life tryin’ to keep up this black mood
    Maybe I’m jealous of you

    Be the change you want to see in the world
    I dunno
    World takes pretty good care of itself most of the time
    I’m starting to think I might like
    To see a little change in me, though

    If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it
    Oh, it’s broke, all right
    I dug all the softness out of this soul a long,
    Long while ago
    To keep from being
    So wide open
    To the slashing razors of touch and
    Time
    And tenderness that turns to dust
    Maybe miss something, though
    Can’t feel the flush of Spring
    Rise

    Steal a glance at children. Lovers. Old guys playing bocce-ball. Write about what you know. I don’t know anything. Are they suckers or am I? I make assumptions like all the rest. My assumptions leave me stuck in the mildewed cellar of my own cynicism. I’m waiting for warmth and sugar to find me, rescue me, wrap me in stardust, but when they show up, be sure I’ll piss doubt all over ‘em.
    Wouldn’t you?

    Expect the unexpected
    Maybe I’ll smile today
    And mean it.
    The old guys do it.
    Why not me?

  19. Ember Bianco says:

    “Dig faster! Faster! Y ou haven’t dug it out enough, I’m telling you, and it’s not deep enough!” “Shut Up! It’s flush up against the wall! I can’t go anywhere else!”’…  The two muscle heads kept going at it mumbling under their breath and bantering back and forth, wasting precious moments arguing incessantly. What they thought was going to be an easy steal ended up instead, being a lesson in what it truly takes to learning the fine art of becoming a career criminal. Not only did they pour their life savings into a “business” plan that they thought would no doubt make them rich, this was the first heist that they literally bought into.

    It all goes way back; way back when the “The Big Time Club”, that sat on the outskirts of this mostly Irish-Italian neighborhood, first opened its doors. The club always had a certain appeal to it for both residents and visitors alike and only a coveted few knew the real reason why. The club originally was hailed as an iconic sort, attracting gangsters from the likes of the famous Bobby Bing-Bang Boom, named for his love of guns, to Jimmy Fast Fingers, the quickest pick-pocket this side of anywhere. These two, among 20 other elites in the game of crime were legends in their own time.

    Names alone weren’t what set this club apart from the ordinary. Back in its heyday, clubs were where you went to see and be seen, and they were a dime a dozen, littering city streets and towns, they were as common as apple pie and vanilla ice cream. Yet if crime was your passion, “The Big Time Club” was where you went to learn from the best, and if you had enough dough to buy in, you got to learn from the best as well. Yes, this was an exclusive club like none before it and none to follow after it either. Getting in and becoming a member took a few steps as well; after paying a hefty admission fee, the ropes to get into the appropriately named “Big Time Club” would only part way for those with a special invitation that was hand delivered to you after submitting your initiation cost and, the invitation could only be presented to you by either one of the two types of members, a big time Criminal or a big time Hollywood star.

     Initiation to get in was just as tough as the members that dwelled within, you had to be agile and entrepreneurial and there was nothing you could fake about that. Becoming a member of the club equipped you with lessons that went far beyond how to simply break into a bank, they were lessons in etiquette, grace and charm, and it was more about the nuances than the actual ‘snatch and grab.’

    Finally, the two nut brains above broke no laws, because ultimately they failed miserably at the true task at hand. I guess you could say that they had it coming to them. Robbed blind of their savings with nothing to show for their efforts, the lesson learned here was… There is no honor among Thieves.

  20. Himanshu says:

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    And now this common man faced the boss’ muscle.
    Mumbling hokum, the best he could do was buying a little time for his brother to get away. But he knew they’ll make him open his mouth any moment.
    Here, his brother dug is own grave by stealing the fake bills through which the company flushed money in its coffers while going broke on papers.

    • Himanshu, what an interesting peek into corporate skulduggery 🙂
       
      No honor among thieves, though I’m sure the brother had no idea.
       
      Cheers,
       
      Mitch
       

    • Shane Arthur says:

      @Himanshu: Welcome to the CCC. Great first submission. What did you think of the challenge?
      I hope to see you here each Monday and Thursday. I’ll add your name to our CCC Community Links page now.
      Everyone welcome Himanshu to the addiction.


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