Writing Prompts – Creative Copy Challenge #382
Posted: April 28, 2015 Filed under: Copy Challenges | Tags: writing prompts 35 CommentsThis 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.
- Extensive
- Versatile
- Legally
- Overblown
- Sound
- Blubber
- Stolen
- Remember
- Force
- Simple
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.)
Writing Prompts - Creative Copy Challenge 
You know, I have no idea where this one came from.
She’s got extensive and versatile experience. Legally, so does he, but his overblown sound and blubber look makes me wonder if he’s stolen his talk from her. I want to ask him if he remembers copyright law, and if I could I might even force him to. But mostly I’ll keep it simple.
Ha-ha! We were totally channeling Chris!!! You went forward, I went backward.
Love it!
Cheers,
Mitch
Those of often the best kind, Anne. 🙂
AnneW~ It comes from the strong woman within! Bravo
Kathleen
Quick and effective.
argh… need a after blubber and I think it will be okay…
“I have a simple method that will force you to remember the location of the stolen whale blubber.”
“Do your worst, old man! You sound ridiculous, with your overblown threats. Legally, you ain’t got nothing on me!”
“True, true. But, I am much more versatile than our antiquated, puritanical judicial system. You see, I have extensive knowledge about psychological warfare. For example, I know where your momma lives, I know where your wife works and I know about Svetlana and room 1306. What goes through a woman’s head when body parts of another female start appearing in their mailboxes, their in-tray, their doorstep? What will come with your next pizza delivery? Oh, and mom’s new smart phone? How will you explain those naughty pictures to her?”
“Oh. My. God.”
This would fit well into my next detective story, Mitch. 😉 What goes through a woman’s head when body parts of another female start appearing in their mailboxes, their in-tray, their doorstep?
Hee-hee. I’ll set them up, you knock ’em down!
Cheers,
Mitch
Mitch ~~ I love modern warfare!
Kathleen
Thanks, Kathleen!
Cheers,
Mitch
Man, you’re just CRUEL. 🙂
Heh-heh. Nobody forced that schlub to shtup Svetlana. He should have schlepped himself home to his wife.
🙂
Cheers,
Mitch
Fine, but what did the dismembered women do to deserve any of it? Or was that really, REALLY just psychological warfare? 🙂
That’s the beauty of it – you can never know. In one movie, the proof-of-life video was pre-re-recorded. That’s just wrong. LOL
In another show, an episode of Dark Matters, the kidnapper cut off his own finger and delivered it to the terrified parents. Now THAT’S psycho (logical).
Cheers,
Mitch
“After extensive research, I’ve come to a conclusion.”
“What the hell are you talking about, Scott?” Lieutenant Michael Stapleton snapped.
“Murder, LT. My research of all things murder. I’ve concluded murder sucks.”
“That’s your profound conclusion?”
“Yeah, all the evidence points to it.”
“You’re an idiot.”
“True. But a versatile idiot. It’s why you love me.”
Michael shook his head. How had two less-alike individuals been partners for so many years? Without killing each other? Lieutenant Michael Stapleton had been a murder cop for more years than he cared to remember.
His partner of a half dozen years, Detective Jason Scott, often said Mount Rushmore had nothing over the lieutenant’s scowling carved countenance. Always the jokester,that Jason. But a damn fine detective, Michael thought. He’d never let on how much his partner’s wit rescued him from a life filled with too much death.
“Well maybe you can use that versatile idiocy of yours to get into the mind of the killer.”
“Legally speaking, the accused killer, but then we’ve overblown the legalities of such things.”
“What is that sound coming out of your mouth? It sure as hell isn’t helping.”
The latest serial killer was working his way through the city. The body count was up to five and they seemed no closer to capture than the day the first body was found floating in the city’s water tower.
The next was dumped on a local beach. A bloated body of blubber from death’s cruel indignities. The least of the victim’s worries. Three more followed. All abandoned in a watery casket for their final resting place. A life stolen from an unknown future by a killer they could not catch. Yet.
Murder enraged Michael. He would remember each victim’s name more than his own. Long before he joined the force, he witnessed the inhumanity of man as no child was meant to see. The victims had become family. And that simple truth drove him.
“Earth to Stapleton.”
“What?”
“Do you think this shirt makes me look fat?”
“You’re an idiot.”
Cathy ~ I love how you made it so I got to know these guys!
I hope there is more.
Kathleen
Thanks, Kathleen. There just might be. 😉
Cathy, I almost want to pull a Shane. This is some quality dialog, backstory and setup , all in one juicy 10-word influenced package.
My Kindle has plenty of room (hint, hint.)
The watery venues are creepy! LOL
Cheers,
Mitch
Would it help to know I finally purchased Scrivener? 😉
Based on my own cause/effect meter, yes! I can’t wait until I am proficient with the intricacies, because the ideas are just sitting in there, waiting for that TLC. 🙂
Cheers,
Mitch
Good counterpoint! Everyone needs someone to pull them back from the brink, now and then. I imagine cops more than anyone.
Ack–some spacing problems but you get the idea. 😉
fixed.
*smooches*
[…] chosen prompt? I visited Creative Copy Challenge #382 for ideas, where the latest prompt is to use the following ten words in a short story: […]
Collecting the Debt
The sound of the foghorn cut through the icy silence. Delia waited, dockside, ready to help the whalers clean and butcher their catch. In exchange for her help, they would give her a portion of the whale meat and a share of its versatile blubber, enough to feed herself and keep the lamps lit for a little while longer.
They worked side by side, silent, remembering how Korsten had gotten twisted up in the ropes. Delia and the whalers sliced through the beast’s thick skin, peeling it away from the muscle and sinew. Delia didn’t flinch from its dead gaze, but stared coldly into its one open eye. Unlike so many of their fellows, Korsten’s friends didn’t need to tell overblown fish tales. They preferred not to speak of the horror in Korsten’s eyes as the whale slowly dragged him a hundred feet below the frigid black sea. They couldn’t say, with certainty, whether he had died of strangulation, drowned, or frozen. By the time they retrieved his body, still bound up in coiled rope attached to the dulled harpoon lodged deep in the whale’s flank, it didn’t much matter which came first.
That was two years ago. Delia worked as hard at the butchering as any of the men. They rarely spoke, but sometimes sang to make the work go faster. They cursed the dull blade, the odd sick whale, the searing cold wind that penetrated their sweat; Delia’s store of profanity was extensive and spanned six languages including Inuit, Icelandic, and Norwegian. The men would have shared their catch with Delia for nothing, out of respect for her late husband. But she had her pride; she wouldn’t be beholden to any of them. Legally, her position was uncertain, but Delia was determined to stay on this frozen, inhospitable island, if they would have her. None would challenge her claim on Korsten’s property, what little of it there was. His friends pitied her, at first – she of the adventurous spirit and soft hands – but now they respected her as they had Korsten. None would have a claim on her; all regarded her as one of their own.
Life here was simple, hard, and clean. The lessons Delia, that once-suntanned girl from the urban tropics, had learned in the past five years were harsh, but she accepted them without complaint. Turning her face toward the wind, she reminded the gods that she, too, was a force to be reckoned with. Nature had stolen Korsten from her; Delia figured Nature owed her a whale or two.
http://jahangiri.us/2013/collecting-the-debt/
Holly, your stories are like bite-sized chocolates. So satisfying.
Yet, always demanding that we sniff the wrapper to really get the full essence of what went into the making.
Cheers,
Mitch
Thank you, Mitch. And thank you – all of you who keep this place going. It’s my refuge when the words aren’t cooperating, and it never fails me.
Holly
You had me hooked within sentences!
I love the strong, respected female character.
Kathleen
Whether you are legally someone’s mother, have given them a warm environment for 9-months or they have chosen you later in life to call ‘Mom’ it is a simple fact that there are forces at work that often can make you blubber like a baby and they are all associated with children.
It could be stolen moments — like when you whisper, “I love you” to a child (no matter how old they get), while they are sleeping, just before you kiss them on the head and they say, “I love you too.”
It could be the sound of the pitter-patter of their little feet that can do it.
It could be their willingness to become versatile, a reflection of you.
It could be the day you watch them walk across stage for a graduation or play an instrument (in band or at home for you).
As I sit here, I realize I have an extensive list of things on my list.
And as I wipe the tears I hope I am forgiven, and you too, for my overblown sense of motherly love.
Remember – we couldn’t be mothers without them.
Oh, don’t you turn me into mush right here on Mother’s Day weekend! (Mine no longer have “little” feet, though. You can hear them coming a mile away. They’re all growed up!)
Holly – Glad this hit a cord with you. Minor are all too big now too.
Kathleen, that was beautiful. Happy Mothers Day!
Cheers,
Mitch
Mitch – thanks on both notes.
Kathleen