May 2015

Highfalutin Flash! Friday

Last Friday I submitted my by now traditional double effort for Flash! Friday Fiction. I actually found it quite a tough one with the picture of a burning plane (the aptly named Hellcat) crashing into an aircraft carrier (the USS Enterprise) and the requirement for one of the main characters being a lawyer. But once I'd had my ideas they rolled off pretty quickly.

No winner again but at least one of the two (Widdle) got a Special Mention thanks to the use of "humour, 'highfalutin' and a heavy cheese session" (again). Huzzah! I should use Highfalutin more often.


Click on the picture below to go through to the FFF and read some/all of the fab stories from the Dragon followers.

1943-enterprise-bruning-hellcat
Burning Hellcat crashing into the USS Enterprise - the FFF prompt Vol 3-22


To Boldly Sue Who No One Had Sued Before

“I’ve heard you’re the best in the business.” Benny said. “I want to hire you.”

Harry smiled. “What business?”

“Ambulance chaser.”

“Ha, I don’t like the terminology, but yeah best in California.”

Benny held out his hand which Harry shook firmly.

“You been in an accident then?”

“Oh, yep. Not my fault. I want you to sue them for me.”

“Great. Any witnesses?”

“Oh yeah, many.”

“Will they remember the accident?”

“I’d say so.”

“When did it happen?”

“A week ago, on the 1st December.”

“Do you have the details of who was to blame and the vehicle registration?”

“It was Admiral J.T. Church, he moved the runway.”

“The runway? Is that a foreign car?”

“No the runway, on the USS Enterprise. Just when I was due to come in. Such idiots.”

“You were parking on a ship?”

“Not so much parking as landing. I mean, how dangerous?”

“So, you’re a pilot.”

“Of course.”

“But, an aircraft carrier? The whole point is that they move isn’t it?”

“That’s what they seem to be using as their defence. But it wasn’t really implicit during training. It seems almost negligent to me to expect us pilots to land onto a moving ship. Isn’t it?”

Harry sighed. “No win, no fee?”

“Fair enough.”

(210 words) 8 May 2015 Story 1 of 2



Widdle Finishes One Enterprise and Begins Another


“Barnstable, Barnstable & Fletcher, Inc” was actually just Eric Widdle, but he thought the business sounded better with a few more names; none of them being his.

The strap-line on his advert read “your nightmare could be your opportunity”. He’d come up with it himself one night after a heavy cheese session. He didn’t like the idea of paying for some high falutin’ ad agency to come up with something corny, when he could do it himself for the price of some oatcakes and a slab of Danish Blue.

He was just starting out in law after his mishap on the USS Enterprise. It hadn’t been his fault of course. A lens had fallen out of his glasses just as he was lining up the landing. Then it all got fuzzy; until he woke in hospital.

The headlines had been quite hurtful and he still didn’t know where his parents had moved to. He understood that divers had now found most of the Enterprise.

The navy had been good paying for him to do the correspondence course in “Law for Beginners” whilst he’d been bedridden. The whole crew had signed a card to him too. He still couldn’t quite work out the handwriting, but was sure it said something nice.


(210 words) 8 May 2015 Story 2 of 2 - Received a
Special Mention

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Angry Hourglass #65 - Podium

Following last week's surprising win over on Angry Hourglass it was nice to write without the smidgeon of pressure of 'needing' to win it this time. I liked the picture. It looked very much of a time and place and was chock with people so dialogue and story opportunities abounded. The big scissors little scissors thing was what I first noticed in the photo (reproduced below). Anyway, my story didn't win this week and why should it with such brilliant writerers going for it again this week? But it was another Flash Dog winner in Foy. And I managed a podium with third place. Huzzah! The story is presented below.

Check out the results page
here.

Note that there will be no more Angry Hourglass now until June.

Little Man Big Scissors
Click on the photo to see all the entries and comments.

In Three Pieces
The two men stood before the invited throng, their baby – the newest hotel in the city – finally ready. Photographers jostled for position jagging elbows and lenses into their enemies, just wanting to get the picture and go; probably to the corner bar.

Gerry looked across to Harold and his giant scissors.
“Overcompensating?”

“You don’t want to know.” Harold said, through gritted teeth.

Gerry looked at the small set of scissors Harold had given him earlier. Prick.

Scissors: a neat device for precision cutting. Two pieces useless without the simple pin holding them together. You can’t cut with one half of a pair; you can stab with it.

“What are we waiting for?” Gerry asked.

“The Times.”

The two men held the satin ribbon, both wanting to get the morning over.

Symbolic: An opening. An ending. The building finished, relationships over.

The pin.

“Where’s Caroline?”

“She’ll be here. Won’t miss the chance to get in the papers.” Harold said.

“These guys won’t wait long. Neither will I.”

Gerry surveyed the cold marble foyer. Photographers. Journalists. Cameramen. Politicians. Bankers. But no Caroline.

“Henry Ellis from the Times.” Henry smiled at them as he arrived before them, seemingly untouched by lens or elbow. “Any comments for our readers on this magnificent, if tardy, hotel?”

Gerry wanted to punch his smug face through the back of his head.

“Yes, it’s been a trying project. But we are where we are and I think I – we – have delivered an outstanding development which will be the hotel of choice for the city.”

“For those who can afford it.” Henry said.

“Of course. There are different markets. Let’s not get into that.”

Harold’s practiced smile bloomed across his face. “Gerry and I will cut the ribbon. Cameras ready?”

The red satin ribbon floated in three pieces to the floor. A few posed photographs together, with cloying saccharin smiles, and it was over.

Caroline trumped them – all over the front pages. Their opening relegated to a single photograph and line under "Announcements".

Caroline: The pin between two egos. Broken. Fallen from the penthouse window. A scissor blade through the neck. A bloody white dress, picture perfect as always.

(360 words)


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