The Saturday Shed – Natural Selection

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This is a scheduled post using the prompt NOMINATION for inspiration.
(I’m just trying to stay ahead of the game and have a Saturday lie-in).
For those with the time or inclination, feel free to join in the fun!

Next week’s word is ADVICE.

“Which one?” Jerome looked up as Elsie dropped a ring binder on his desk.

“Which one what?” She took the chair opposite him.

“You know what I’m talking about.” He pointed his pen at her. “Don’t make me say it out loud.”

“Not this elaborate crap again?” She folded her arms across her chest. “I’ve made my choice.”

“It’s not as simple as that,” he reminded her. “You can’t just eliminate people on a whim.”

“If you say so.”

“I do.” Jerome opened the folder. “I know I’m a little fussy, but we need a robust paperwork trail. Let’s begin.” He cleared his throat. “In your opinion, who is the most annoying nominee and or candidate?”

“Number two.”

“You answered without any hesitation.” He made a note in the file. “I hope you put plenty of thought into this?”

“I have.”

“Fair enough. Of your selectees, which one would you hate to be stuck in a lift with?”


“Not looking good for Two!” Jerome chuckled. “Two strikes against him or her so far.”

“I told you this was a waste of time. Why prolong the agony?”

“If we don’t adhere to procedure, head office will send someone down to ask awkward questions and generally interfere. We don’t want that, do we?”

Elsie shrugged.

“Do I take that as a yes?”

“If it makes you happy, Jerome.”

“Your attitude leaves a lot to be desired. This will have to go in my report.”

“Can we just get on with this?”

“Relying on your extensive research, who is the one most likely not to be invited to a friend’s wedding, or party, etc?”

“Still Two.”

“The evidence is building up here.” Jerome nodded. “This is not something I make a habit of, but considering your answers, I will let you sign the form now. I’ll complete it later.”

“No, let’s carry on,” said Elsie. “A full house would cement my decision in stone.”

“Just like the corpse of number Two. Okay, I can tell by your face you didn’t find that funny, which brings us to the next question. Which target would you describe as a humourless bastard? Oh, don’t bother answering: it’s two, isn’t it?”

Elsie nodded, and Jerome slumped in defeat.

“Is there any point in reading the last question?”

“We should see this through.” She leaned across and plucked the folder from his hands. “And regarding the next question, am I certain two is the one most likely—”

“—to finish someone’s sentence. Sounds a bit of a tosser, but at least you know which one to take down first.”

“I’ve always known,” Elsie grinned.

“Then sign and date where indicated, and get out of my office.”

“My office now,” said Elsie. She whipped out her gun and put a bullet between his eyes.

The Saturday Shed – Mr Memory

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This is a scheduled post using the prompt HUSTLE for inspiration.
(I’m just trying to stay ahead of the game and have a Saturday lie-in).
For those with the time or inclination, feel free to join in the fun!

“Staircase Mystery,” said Kyle. “It’s on the Join Hands album.”

“Are you sure?” Britt looked surprised. “I’m sure it’s from The Scream.”

“I’ll check.” Kyle pulled his mobile from his pocket. “Typical, no bloody Wi-Fi, again.”

“Don’t worry, Jaime’s over there. Let’s ask him.”

“You’ll have to pay for the privilege.”

“It’s only money,” said Britt. She jumped up and went over to Jaime’s table. They had a brief conversation before she turned around and waved Kyle over. He approached the table with a sigh.

“Kyle, mate, you’ve got it wrong and,” Jaime looked at Britt. “You are half right. The Staircase, open brackets, mystery, close brackets, was a stand-alone single but appeared on the remastered Scream in 2005 as a bonus track. It has, of course, appeared on compilation albums and CDs.”

“Told us.” Kyle brought out his wallet. “How much for your trouble, sir?”

“This one is on the house.” Jaime didn’t take the proffered money. “I’m off duty at the moment.”

“If you’re sure?” said Britt. “We wouldn’t want to stiff you.”

“Perish the thought! Don’t worry, my dears, just tell everyone willing to listen that I took the payment. Otherwise, people will blurt out their ignorance in my hearing, hoping for a freebie.”

“OK, but we owe you a beer. We’ll be in the Queen’s Head later. I’ll tell them to put one behind the bar for you.”

“Very good of you. I’ll have a bottle of Spitfire, then.”

“No problem.” Kyle smiled and turned to go. Britt gave Jaime a wave before she took Kyle’s hand and they both trotted off.

“Well, that was an unexpected request, but it worked,” said Jaime in a low voice. “Just keep blocking the signal.”

“Oh, I will!” said a tinny voice in his left ear. “And you keep your hat pulled down and within radio range and the dosh will roll in!”

The Saturday Shed – Bully For You

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This is a scheduled post using the prompt VENDETTA for inspiration.
(I’m just trying to stay ahead of the game and have a Saturday lie-in).
For those with the time or inclination, feel free to join in the fun!

Next week’s word is PLATFORM.

Moron, snaggle-teeth, yellow-belly!”

That chant still has the power to cut to the quick after all these years. Children are so cruel, they ferret out the weak and bully them into submissive wrecks.

Schooldays are not always the best days of your life. And as for that sticks and stones rhyme, what utter crap. Name-calling might not result in a trip to casualty, but a well-hurled insult cuts deeper than a knife, leaving the ugliest of scars behind.

And these wounds may scab over, but they never heal. They fester, infecting every thought and action unless a way is found to fight back and take back control. A hard process, because there are no micro-aggressions in the playground: kids go straight for the jugular, taking down their victims with glee.

But rising above this shite does happen. I only have to think of that cowed streak of piss who used to whimper in fear. I still marvel at the inner resources that overcame the undiagnosed dyslexia, the years of dental surgery and the painful journey to a black belt in karate.

Not to mention marrying the prettiest girl in school, becoming a policeman, and being voted community copper of the year. Twice. But the best bit? Exacting revenge on his worst tormentor.


I’m six months into a sentence for a crime I didn’t commit.

Ruthless, tactical, avenger!”

The Saturday Shed – Tactical Voting

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This is a scheduled post using the prompt SPIN for inspiration.
(I’m just trying to stay ahead of the game and have a Saturday lie-in).
For those with the time or inclination, feel free to join in the fun!

“I don’t vote,” said Kayla. “I don’t understand half what they talk about, and it doesn’t interest me.” She simpered as if to say: what a silly I am! I sensed Rachel brewing up for an outburst, so I kicked her under the table. When that didn’t work, I pinched her thigh so hard she squeaked. Kayla didn’t notice.

“You realise women died for us to have the vote?” I said before Rachel recovered from her leg gouging. Just my luck her afternoon classes got cancelled.

“I didn’t ask them to,” said Kayla. “It’s not my fault if they threw their lives away on something stupid.”

Rachel pushed back her chair and stomped up to the cake counter. She is such an emotional eater, that girl, but her problems are not my priority.

“Kay!” I gave her my most sincere smile. “I know it’s all a bit beyond you, but you have the power to do me an enormous favour.”

“I do?” She sounded surprised, but looked pleased.

“Your vote could decide the outcome of this election. And bring you ever closer to your goal.”

“You don’t mean…?”

“Oh, yes!” I nodded vigorously. “Put a little tick in the box next to Dee’s name tomorrow and—”

“Dee? But I thought you were managing Rachel’s campaign.”

“I am,” I said to her confused face. “But if you do as I ask, I will ensure Russell Traynor asks you to the inauguration ball.”

And this wasn’t a lie. I knew for a fact that he was going to ask her. But I convinced him to wait until after the election. He was another yes for Dee, and with Kayla and the other seven votes I’d garnered, Rachel was toast. Teach her to renege on her deal to put me on the committee as secretary if she won. But her loss will be Dee’s gain. And mine, of course.

Malcolm Tucker and Tracy Flick have got nothing on me.

The Saturday Shed – Sex on the Beach

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This is a scheduled post using the prompt FUN for inspiration.
(I’m just trying to stay ahead of the game and have a Saturday lie-in).
For those with the time or inclination, feel free to join in the fun!

“A finger, a thumb, a kick up the bum, stand up, sit down, keep moving.” Jack’s voice echoed up the stairway, getting closer.

Stacey rolled over and pulled the covers over her head. Strong hands gripped her ankles.

“Ho-ho,” yodelled Jack. “You can run, but you can’t hide, my pretty.”

“Fuck off, darling.” She wrenched her legs free.

“Shan’t, I’ve got the devil in me today. Come on, hands-off cocks and on socks!”

“Cut the cliches and go away. And do not return until you revert to a normal human being.”

“Ain’t never gonna happen, sweetheart.”

“Bastard!” Stacey screamed as he tipped her onto the floor in a flurry of bedding. “Can’t you leave me in peace?” 

“I’m bored, and you said you wanted to go to the beach today.”

“Not at five in the morning,” she said, crawling out from a tangle of sheets.

“Why not? We can have a picnic breakfast, watch the sunrise, and take a swim with no one else to annoy us.”

“Does sound tempting.”

“I’ve packed our bags and made up a hamper. I even ironed your frock.” He handed her a summer dress. “All you need to do is go for a wee and get dressed.”

“I’ll pee at the beach.” Stacey slipped the dress over her head.

“What no underwear?” Jack leered.

“Won’t need it when we get to the dunes, will I?”