Writing Prompts – Creative Copy Challenge #330

This is a writing prompt. Bet you can’t do it! Take the 10 random words below and crush writer’s block by creating a cohesive, creative short story! And remember: after (if) you finish entering your submission into the comment field, 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, we BET YOU CAN’T do those, either.) NOTE: Our bolding plugin is gone, so you’ll have to put <b> and </b> around each of your words if you want them to stand out, but NOT REQUIRED THOUGH.

  1. Lease
  2. Infantry
  3. Electrocute
  4. Ulcer
  5. Tank
  6. Elephant
  7. Nation
  8. Amphibious
  9. Nib
  10. Township

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.)


20 Comments on “Writing Prompts – Creative Copy Challenge #330”

  1. Anklebuster says:

    Ile d’Fromage-Vert launched an amphibious assault on the tiny island nation of Nano-Humano. Headlines around the world ranged from the serious to the ridiculous. Jesse Gallant was incensed by the version in The Daily Pillar:


    Jesse picked up the phone. Within minutes, he electrocuted employment opportunities for both the author of the article and the quipping editor from whose nib came the insensitive banner. Next, he called his broker and sold all of his shares in Vreeland Enterprises, whose sole product depended on imports from Nano-Humano.


    General Farkas laughed maniacally. The Nanites had attempted to overrun his infantry with under-nourished elephants. Instead of establishing the all-important beachhead, Farkas pressed his troops onward to the heart of the country.

    His counterpart, General Lambda, had anticipated this hubris and successfully counterattacked with a dozen rusty Russian tanks, just outside the Township of Hope.

    Jesse’s paper had a more subdued headline the following morning:


    He still got an ulcer when the business section lead off with this story:

    Vreeland Renews Lease.

  2. Margaux spent exactly one day wallowing. After Da asked her if she was pregnant, and how could he have known, Margaux never stopped wondering, she curled into the worn leather sofa, making the length of it her own private township of worry. She had fallen into his shoulder, wondering how many other women were also falling into the shoulders of the men on whom they relied. How many other fathers would have picked out the one deep and mysterious thing, and claimed it for her, so that his blood child would not have to tease out the elephantine load herself.

    She wept, and he cooed. When the tears stopped, he tamped some tobacco into a horn pipe and lit it. Margaux heard the nib of the match strike the box, smelled the sulfur, and the applewood smoke. She heard him puff, puff, puff, and then felt his body sigh and sink. He patted her back once, so that she shifted away, and he lit a fire in the hearth.

    Dry wood clicked and flew into flame, the room became their nation of two, and he was the entire infantry, with his pipe and his smoke, his sweater, and his discernment. He studied her as he’d study a poem, segmenting the verbs, parsing the symbols, patting it back together, like the fairy tale egg, but making sense of the string of letters, making sense of her. Though she had said nothing.

    He poked at the fire and poured them each a snifter, settled into a chair and opened a book. Margaux did not remember him pulling the rough wool blanket up to her chin. She did not remember him flipping the switch to darken the room, or drawing the screen on the fireplace. He let her stay there, all through the night and into the next day.

    Sleep fell like a lease weakly purchased, about to expire. She did not expect the vaporous pleasure to last. She had been right in one sense. She slept like a leaking ulcer, dreaming of the amphibious thing crawling inside her, an electrocuted charge firing the limbs and brain and skin and eyes into a growing reality. Sleep did not provide rest. It filled her tank with more worry. But she had promised to keep it from Da. And so she thought she had.

  3. So I think I’m going to combine the previous two prompts into a new serial. Mermaids and time travel!


  4. Ashley says:

    Autumn glared petulantly after Jake as the blond man walked obliviously away with that overly touchy Italian woman, Francesca Gionne. As Autumn’s glare followed after the pair, she watched as Francesca in her skimpy outfit pressed her barely covered chest against Jake’s arm and whispered something to him. He just glanced at her and gave a simple answer that seemed to satisfy her. As they reached Jake’s Porsche, the blond man turned and looked up at Autumn watching them from the window of their condo.

    “Do be good while I’m gone, Autumn,” Jake called up to Autumn in his crisp British accent that on any other occasion would have caused the brunette to shiver, but now she only grit her teeth in anger.

    And if Autumn wasn’t mistaken, Jake had just talked to her like she was a freaking dog. Snarling in anger, Autumn slammed the window shut and stormed away from it with the sound of Jake’s chuckling drifting up to her ears. After a couple seconds the sound of the Porsche purring to life and driving away, alerted Autumn that they had just left. Remembering Jake’s conversation earlier on the phone when the blond had thought that Autumn wasn’t paying attention, since Autumn had seemed absorbed in the movie that had been playing, the brunette pulled on a dark jacket and headed out after them.

    Once she was out on the street Autumn headed in the direction of the restaurant, called Arcadia, where he had taken that Italian slut. Arcadia was an expensive, classy restaurant, which Jake had never even taken Autumn to and now he was taking a woman that dressed provocatively there. There was definitely something wrong with this picture. Which is pretty much the reason why Autumn is following those two, she had been having this nagging suspicion that Jake was cheating on her and now she was going to find out for sure if her suspicion was true or not. The night air was a bit cool even with her jacket on, making her wish she had taken her car. But if she had Jake would notice that right away, and brought this up later. And Autumn didn’t want to be confronted about her stalking those two, if there really was nothing going.

    The walk was quiet, which left Autumn alone with her treacherous thoughts. Her mind swirled with thoughts of Jake cheating on him with various women and Autumn being oblivious to it this whole time. Autumn vigorously shook her head in an attempt to stop her train of thought. Knowing her there was probably nothing going on and she was just blowing things out of proportion like she normally did. The sight of the restaurant coming into view had Autumn quickening her pace, so she could have her assumptions proven wrong and go home where it was warm.

    Walking causally up to the window front of the restaurant with her hood drawn up, she peered inside and what she saw put her into a temporary shock. There was Jake with Francesca their lips locked together. Her vile green eyes were closed in bliss and her hands cupping the blonde’s neck. Her immediate shock was quickly drowned out in by an uncontrollable wave of rage. Autumn now refused to call the man by his name and had decided in a matter of seconds that she was going to call him by his surname in a way of to try and put some distance between them. Stalking away from the window, she made her way over to the parking lot where Wesker’s Porsche was parked. Standing before the gleaming black car, she wished that she had brought her gun with her but her hunting knife would do. At that moment, Autumn enacted revenge of her own upon her ex’s car. She made multiple deep scratches all over the car, kicked out the headlights, and punched the windshield. Stepping away from the now ruin car, Autumn felt elated at the moment about her work, even though she knew that she would later feel guilty about it but for now she felt just fine about what she did.

    Autumn strode down the street back towards the condo still feeling irate at Wesker, even though she had already wrecked the man’s car. She had no intentions of staying with that promiscuous man and was planning on taking what she needed and heading over to her sister’s. With that plan in mind, she jogged the rest of the way to the condo. Even at the condo the brunette still jogged up the stairs all the way to the front door of the condo. Unlocking the door, Autumn briskly shouldered open the door and set to work collecting his stuff.

    By the time Autumn had piled everything that she could into her car, she had headed back up to the condo to leave her key there seeing as she had no need for it. Autumn was quick to remove the key from the key ring and lay it on the kitchen counter, before turning to leave. As she was leaving she saw something glint in the light, immediately catching her eye. Walking over to it, she found that what had caught her eye was a framed picture of her and Wesker. In the picture Wesker was asleep leaning against a tree, not that you could tell with his sunglasses covering his eyes, and Autumn curled up next to him with her head lying on his leather clad lap. Her sister, Sophie, had taken the picture without either of them knowing until she had posted it on Facebook, where it had grown and festered like an ulcer.

    Without even thinking she smashed her fist against the picture, the glass shattering and cutting her hand. Bits and pieces of glass embedded themselves into her hand, causing her to colorfully swear. Taking a deep breath, Autumn picked up the busted from, and picture along with it, and threw it into the trash. Before she left, Autumn decided to leave her ex a note out of the kindness of her heart. Not. Her heart was really quite poisonous at the moment, poisonous enough to kill off an entire infantry. So Autumn imagined that Wesker would probably die repeatedly from how venomous she felt at the moment, which was kind of a pleasing thought. But if she thought about it, she would much rather have him electrocuted than poisoned. Poison just seemed too nice of a death for him at the moment. Satisfied with her note to him, especially after having the nib of the pen almost break on her and seeing that she had remembered to tell him to take off her off of the lease for the condo, she locked the door and walked down the stairs to her car.

    The drive to her sister’s house wasn’t far, sadly, making Autumn feel like it had taken her only seconds to reach her sister’s house. Bracing herself for the oncoming barrage of questions that would surely be heading her way, Autumn made her way out of her car up to the front door. Knocking only once, she stood back and waiting for only a second before the door was thrown open. Sophie looked to have been expecting someone entirely else by her sister’s baffled expression upon seeing her older sister on her front doorstep.

    “Autumn, what are you doing here,” Sophie questioned, before noticing Autumn’s hand. “Oh my god, what happened to your hand?”

    Even though her sister had asked her about her hand, she didn’t wait for Autumn’s reply before ushering her in to the bathroom. Which is where Autumn was now, sitting on the lid of the toilet waiting for her sister to return. Sitting there she inspected her bleeding knuckles with her bright blue eyes, numb to the pain in her hand. The effects of her earlier adrenaline had already worn off, leaving her feeling like she had been run over by a tank that had backed up a couple of times over her while it was at it and trampled to death by an elephant after that. Knowing that she still lived in the same township as her ex was an unsettling thought for her. But after briefly contemplating the issue, she decided that she would treat the problem like they lived in entirely different nations. With that issue settled, Sophie decided to finally reappear with everything she needed.

    Looking at her sister, she saw that she had thrown her red hair up into a messy bun while she had been gone. Autumn’s minor observation was really an attempt to distract herself from thinking about her ex, which really wasn’t working. Watching her sister, she watched her sister’s steady blue eyes regard her hand quietly before grabbing what she needed and getting to work pulling out the shards of glass. Autumn only hissed in pain at the burning feel of glassing being pulled from her knuckles.


    As Autumn lay down on the spare bed in her pajamas, she closed her eyes and made a mental list of everything she had brought with. Running through the list she realized she had forgotten one very important thing.

    “I forgot Piers,” Autumn screamed to no one, grabbing her pixie short brown hair.


    Jake walked up to the front door of the condo, after having called a taxi for Francesca. He was thoroughly disgusted with the woman. She had had no rights to touch. He had made no indications to the woman that he was in anyway remotely interested to her. And after that horrific experience, he had found out that his car had been trashed, which had seemed to top off his night. Jake had headed home on foot intent on spending time with his girlfriend to sooth away the horrid events of tonight. As he had been walking, he had saw Autumn driving down the street in her Mercury Cougar somewhere, but hadn’t put much thought into it until now.

    Setting down her note, Jake looked around the condo, which now lacked her personal belongings, except the amphibious creature in the tank in the living room. It was an Axolotl salamander, named Piers, which she must have forgotten. Autumn would never leave Piers behind, meaning she must have been beyond irate. But seeing that the amphibious creature was still here, meant that she would have to come back to get him. With this thought in mind, Jake decided to sleep on the couch that night.

  5. K says:

    It seems like I rallied an entire nation. No, scratch that. Instead of creating an autonomous nation, an infantry rises, wielding their pens with their nibs attached. I don’t quite understand society especially concerning the social hierarchy of high school. Although I ask this several times throughout the day, no one gives a thorough explanation only to worship me more at my feet. This questions remains unanswerable to my fellow friend: why me?

    I guess it started back when girls complimented me about my hair and groaned about how they desired their hair to be as long and healthy as mine. They had complained their eyes could never measure up to the deep brown eyes I had. Those girls put me on a pedestal, claiming they were elephants compared to my small stature. Well, it did help that both my parents had been shorter than average, but heredity shouldn’t necessitate excessive glamorization. This also leads me to the times when guys began trampling over each other like tanks, lining up behind me at my locker. Envy had stabbed itself in girls’ hearts as they vyed to destroy me or become me. Nonetheless, every girl crossing my path has hated my guts, glaring at me behind my back. Like any other person undergoing puberty, I had filled out, and I guess some girls thought I matured better than the rest. The fact that I had been shorter than most of the population didn’t lessen the effects of puberty but rather enhanced them. Guys had introduced themselves to me in the cheesiest manner, professing that I had electrocuted them with my allure.

    Excuse me. What? For the rest of middle school and my ventures in high school, I fail to comprehend the logic in that. I always respond in the same way: “I’m flattered that you like me, but I don’t feel the same way. Sorry.” Tenacious as humans tend to be, those boys never quit, stalking me in between classes and after school. I had stopped walking home, fearing they might follow me again.

    People say they adore me because of my multifarious talents and sad backstory. Umm, come again? Yes, I enjoy swimming and have been apart of the swim team for most of my life, but please don’t stretch the truth by stating that I’m amphibious as if it’s a fact of life. And again, don’t spout exaggeration about me. Just because I study for classes and know what commenced the township and range system doesn’t serve as an indicator for being a genius with a photographic memory. My life after school has been hailed as the most depressing story in the history of the school, yet people have it much worse in other places of the world. I do admit that it gets tough after school because I balance school and work, but that’s only to support my dad. My mother runs the restaurant as usual before having to lease it to pay off some of my dad’s debt. My dad lies on a hospital bed, recovering from a stroke. It had been common for him to be unhealthy for most of my life since he had been struck with illnesses and ulcers before having a stroke. It didn’t leave him paralyzed like some patients, but the event has shaken the family. Although I may have a sob story to tell, people parade around me as if I am some type of hero. The teachers at school dismiss my faults as a human, treating me in the same manner. I notice it’s common with other adults, too. It drives me insane.

    Oh, now I bet you, reader, wonder who I am. It sounds crazy, but believe me. Somewhere out there in the world exists even more outrageous stories. I identify myself as Mary, the name my mother had given to me at birth, but others don’t address me that way. They refer to me as Mary Sue.

    • Anklebuster says:

      K, this is a fascinating perspective of a young lady.
      Is Mary Sue a reference or just a name?



      • K says:

        It didn’t start out as a reference until I thought it had worked out to put it as a reference at the end. Mary Sue refers to an archetype found in pop culture and I wanted to make a twist on it.

        • Anklebuster says:

          Interesting. I took the Mary Sue Test:

          “Alicia is only a little like you. She is not at all cool; in fact, she thinks cool is a temperature reading, and when she says “Oh, I just put on whatever old thing’s lying around,” she means “on the floor, where I threw it last night – but I turned the underwear inside out first.” There’s never been anything special about her that she could see; boy, is she in for a surprise. She’s got no emotional scars to speak of. And she’s gotten no slack from you.

          In general, you’ve kept yourself a goodly distance from Alicia and given her plenty of room – maybe a little too much. Don’t distance yourself so far from Alicia that you stop caring what happens to her.”

          I don’t know what to make of that. (She’s the main character in Puzzleland .)

      • K says:

        Hmm, I guess the result after that test meant you characterized Alicia well which makes her an interesting protagonist.

        • Anklebuster says:

          I certainly hope folks see her that way. 🙂
          The Mary Sue reference is neat. I suppose we have to be careful not to insert ourselves into our stories.

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