The A-Z Challenge Day 8 "H" Horror and Humor strange bedfellows!

A-Z Challenge day 8 letter ‘H’ is for Horror and Humor...or something roughly in between.

 Let's look at Horror and Humor I wrote a little story that kinda combines both titled :"Rumpleflargl"

The room stank. Body odor and cigarettes blended with stale booze. My stomach was unimpressed with my sense of smell.

I dry retched. I shut my eyes and tried to remember where the hell I was. Hell seemed appropriate, it sure was hot enough.  

The memory hung there just beyond reach. It troubled me somewhat, no matter how drunk I got, I had never blacked out before.

The stench in the room increased. A light came on. What I saw made me wish myself unconscious again.

The thing sat in a stairwell. It wasn’t quite a dog. If it were, it was the ugliest one I had ever seen.

My first thought was, I hope to God this is only a nightmare. The fetid odor of wet fur and old blood discouraged that notion. My nose didn’t usually intrude itself in my dreams.

I moved, happy that I could. The doglike thing emitted a sound that gurgled in its throat; spewing from its mouth, as a combined growl and groan. I shivered despite the humid room.

It was angry, and afraid. Never a good combination in a nightmare that stank.

I shuffled myself backwards on my ass. I felt behind me in the light coming from where the thing sat. 

My hands touched something warm and solid; I turned my head slowly to look, not wanting to attract Stinky’s attention. The scream I let rip, blew that scenario right out of the cellar.

The carcass had once been a female. Now it was just a gutted thing crawling in maggots. The genitals were the one remaining identifier.

I had attracted my ugly companion’s attention. He—she--or it, moved onto a lower stair, the stench came with it.

Staying silent was hardly an option. I was good with things with four legs as a rule. 

Better though if I had a clue as to what I was dealing with. 

It appeared to be a combination of an animal, and an even uglier animal.

I guess if I looked that scary, I’d be pretty pissed as well.

I was deciding between throwing up or wetting myself, neither option was terribly attractive.

Good old Stinky had moved closer and was now only a couple of feet away.  He wouldn’t need to eat me. The toxic fumes coming from him would decalcify my spinal column long before his sharp teeth could. 

This thing made ‘Jaws’ look like a sardine with attitude.

I weighed up my options, trying not to glance behind me at the last person who made the wrong choice.

The trouble being of course that Stinky may well be the best deal I had. 

I hate negativity; I decided to go with the easiest choice. I stood and remained still. My knees were shaking.

 This didn’t assist in portraying myself as a solid “Terminator” type.  Stinky had a set of wedding tackle hanging between his legs. It--was a he.

Stinky dropped to the floor. He sat there making hideous sounds, his saliva pooling into a sticky mess in front of him.

So far so good, he had been conned by my immense physical presence. Then again, he may be just tired.

I  hunkered down and talked in a calm controlled manner as I extended my hand, “So, Stinky, how’re they hangin’?”

“Rumplefargl.”

“Whoa—the old ‘Rumplefargl’ huh? Tough break Stink. Hey buddy, I understand. Us guys have gotta stick together, which given the amount of saliva you’re making, is a distinct possibility.”

I sat down completely, wanting of course to make him more comfortable. Plus my knees wouldn’t hold me up any longer.

Good ol’ Stinky must have figured I was cool. He put what passed for his head on his front paws, and looked up at me gently with eyes only ‘Stephen King’ could invent.

“Rumplefargl?”

I had to be careful how I responded. 

Suppose he was asking permission to turn me into a maggot ridden mess like my other cellmate.

I gave it some thought, and decided on the psychological approach, “So with all this ‘Rumplfargl’ going on, Stink, when do you get a chance to just have time out alone? You know, just hangin' out with the other things from hell and shootin’ the breeze and each other?”

He appeared to consider my question. He stood . Then hurried over to the stairwell, “Rumplfargl.”

I followed him. Hell--why not? I doubted whatever was up the stairs could be as disgusting as where I was.

I was wrong. There was a door, just one--I opened it.

I tried shutting it again as a chorus of “Rumplfargl” greeted me.

Guess who's coming to dinner?

Yeah...I'm weird...I like combining different genres to see just how wrong I can get it. lol.

 Thanks for stopping by.

The A-Z Challenge Day 6 "F" = Friendship of the wonderful kind.

Friendship...how do you define it? My idea of true friends is reflected in my short story below. This story was written by me in response to a dear little girl. She was only 7 at the time, and asked me why people were mean to her, because her skin was a different color.

 "What do different means Charlie?"

“Charlie, why is them's saying me maybe gots to go away? What do--away--means, Charlie?”

“Well, Casper, away, um—away, be someplace where me isn’t with you. Me be not too sure about the why—but me thinks maybe they is a little, afraid.”

“What do they be afraids of, Charlie?”

“Well, me thinks maybe they’s scared because we is sort of ...  different?”

“Me don’t understoods. What do--different, means?"

“Um, different be … like you is small … and me is bigger.”

“Oh … me still don’t understoods. We be buddies, doesn’t we?”

“Yeeeeeees—we sure is; we be the bestest buddies. But you will gets a whole lot bigger.”

“Bigger? Like … um, like my daddy is bigger?”

“Yes—like your daddy is bigger, that be different.”

“But, Charlie, you will just gets bigger—like me do. Wont you?”

“Well—no ... me don’t think so, me is already big as me can gets.”

“Charlie? Me, don’t understoods. Why … why they be afraid of that? Does them thinks me will squishes you—when me sits on your tummy?”

“Weeell—maybe you might squishes me a little bit.”

“So—um, we can fixes that, Charlie. You cans sits on my tummy—cause you won’ts squishes me when me be big like daddy.”

“I …I … Well--me be not sure if that would be okay.”

“Why, Charlie? Me, don’t understoods.”

“Well, maybe—maybe it be, cause—um--we be different in some other ways.”

“Okay--so we makes the different go away—and we makes everything the sames.”

“I doesn’t think we can do that, Casper!"    

“Me--don’t understoods. You be my friend; you makes me laugh, and you lets me sleep on your tummy. Why be they afraid of that?”

“Maybe—the sames stuff--ain’t as scary as the different stuff do be.”

“Charlie—me sorry—but me still don’t understoods it. What be sooooo … different?”

“Well—maybe it are cause me eats green stuff … an you eats, um … meat stuff.”

“Oh, okay—me see. Um … no me don’t. Why do that be scary?”

“Well, maybe them thinks, maybe them thinks—um—that you might wanna eats me.”

“Oh—you makes me laugh, and laugh, and laugh, Charlie, you is so funny.”

“Me wasn’t doing funny-funny, small one.”

“You means thems really--really thinks that me would eats you?”

“Me think so.”

“Does thems eats meat, Charlie?”

“Yep, me thinks some of ‘em do.”

“Does thems eats … does thems eats theys friends, Charlie?”

“No, me don’t think so?”

“Then me don’t understoods it. If thems doesn’t eat thems friends what be different; why is they silly-scared that me would eats you?”

“Me not be sure, Casper.”

“So—what else’s be so different, Charlie?”

“Well—me looks different than you does.”

“Does—all thems friends look just like thems do.”

“Noooooo—me doesn’t thinks so. Well maybe—maybe, thems just have friends who am all the same. So no one can be silly-scared of being more differents--than the sames.”

“Me don’t understoods—can me only have me friends that be exackerly sames as me?”

“Me thinks maybe … yes, Casper.”

“Me don’t likes that … me think that be silly-silly, Charlie. How else do we be different?”

“Well—mmm—me don’t be sure?”

“Me cant’s thinks of differents—but me can thinks of sames.”

“What sames cans you thinks of Casper?”

“Well, Charlie--If you gets hurt, you cry, and go tells your momma … just like me does. Doesn’t you?”

“Yes, me do.”

“And if you cuts yourself you gots that red stuff what comes out … just like me do. Doesn’t you?”

“Well … yes, Casper, yes me do.”

“So, more sames—than differents—hey, Charlie?”

“Differents, be more scary for thems, Casper.”

“Why doesn’t them just close thems eyes--cause then--thems wouldn’t see, no differents?”

“Casper … that be a good idea … buts--me donts thinks it would work.”

“Why, Charlie?”

“Cause—um—they would has to keep thems eyes shuts all the time … and that would silly-scary them more?”

“Cause … them would falls off a cliffs or something’s, Charlie?”

“Uh—huh, that woulds be bad, Casper.”

“Charlie? Will the sun still wakes up over the trees, if we be friends?”

“Me ... thinks so.”

“Will it still go to sleeps, behind the big hills, if we be friends?”

“Me thinks so.”

“Wills us still has a mommy and daddy, Charlie?”

“Yes, Casper.”

“Will we still has other friends, Charlie?”

“Charlie? Wills ... we still has other friends?”

“Me ... just don’t knows about that exacleys for sure, Casper.”

“Oh—that be sad, Charlie, it be water in my eyes sad. Me likes mys other friends too.”

“Me knows, it be makings me sad-sad too.”

“Charlie, me be silly-scared nows—what does we gonna do?”

“Me doesn’t be sures exackley, Casper. Me am thinkin' abouts it much.”

“Charlie, me don’ts wants to be your unfriend. Maybes we can runs aways, someplace where’s they be nots carin’ about thems differents ... where thems be carin' just abouts the sames. Does you thinks us cans, Charlie? Where be a place we cans go?”

“Me has never, ever heared ofs a place likes that, Casper.”

“Never … ever?”

“Not ever, Casper.”

“Charlie? Charlie … you thinks maybe we cans finds one, if we looks, and looks ... and looks some mores?”

“We cans try. Is you for sure you wants to go looking and looking?”

“Me be surely-sure, Charlie. Me thinks if we looks long and looks real good … wes gonna find us a place, where the sames be more specials than than different.”

“Casper, my little friend. When dids you gets to be so smarts?”

“When I decideds to be yours friend, Charlie.”

“Charlie?”

“Uh—huh, Casper?’

“Charlie, why is the sky--up?”

“Go sleepy-time nows Casper, we talks about why the sky’s is up, when the sun wakes up some more.”

“Charlie—Charlie--is you sleeps yet?”

“Me tryings real hard to sleeps, Casper.”

“Oh … me be sorry.”

“Charlie? Charlie, if me talks real ...  real, soft, can you talks and not wakes up?”

“Me don’t thinks so Casper, me feels waked up now.”

“Oh—Charlie, nows that you be waked up, cans me asks you something’s?”

“Hmm—me thinks you maybe going too, even if me not waked up, Casper.”

“Charlie?”

“Uh—huh.”

“Do you be a boy, monkeys ... or a girls, monkeys?”

“Me am a boy monkeys, Casper.”

“Oh … that be goods Charlie, me be boy tiger, so that be one more same thing, huh, Charlie?”

“Me guess so.”

“Charlie?”

“Yes.”

“Charlie, what be different about boys and girls?”

“Go to sleeps, Casper.”

“Okay—goodnights, Charlie.”

“G’night, Casper.”

“Charlie? Me--cants go to sleeps.”

“Will you go to sleeps if me tells you a story?”

“Oh—yes, me thinks so.”

“Promise.”

“Me promise.”

“Once upon a times …!

“What times was it, Charlie?”

“No questions--just listen, okay?”

“Okay, Charlie.”

“Once upon a times there was a little white Tiger—who eated meat—and asked lots and lots of questions. He was a funny-funny Tiger and he was goods to hims friends.

“His bestest friend was a Chimpanzee and that be a different kind of friends than white Tigers has. But theys was more sames than different so different didn’t matters…!

“Oh—Charlie, Charlie … me likes this story muchly. How does it finishes ... Charlie?"

“Me don’t knows, Casper—me just don’t knows.”


"Charlie ... that makes me water in the eyes sad."


"Me be sad-sad too, Casper. Me try and makes a happy forever finishes ... thens you be happy-happy."


"Me loves you big as the sky, Charlie."


"Me too ... my bestest buddy ... me too."

I hope you enjoyed my small journey into Love and loyalty.

Here is a more recent picture of the lovable Charlie and Casper.

The A-Z Challenge Day 4~ D = Dudes Down Under!

“D” is for Dudes Down Under!

I can’t resist the opportunity to plug my soon to be published Romantic Comedy.

“Dudes Down Under” is Different, Delightful, Delicious, Daring, Defiant, Daunting, Delectable,Devastating, Delirious, Devine and Downright Dangerous.

Dudes down Under, is the name of the most luxurious resort ever built, set on a privately owned island, nestled on the Great Barrier Reef off the coastline of Northern Australia.

The owner of “Dudes” is Lucy Bambini. Lucy is ostensibly the manager. Only the reader and one staff member know that she owns the resort in its entirety, as well as the island it is built on.

To open the resort, Lucy has signed a deal with the “Queen of American daytime talk shows”…the lovely Lana Peters.  The deal?   

A barrel is filled with the names of interested Hollywood ‘A’ Listers, who pay $500,000 each to enter the draw.  There can be ten winners only, to be drawn by the host. 

The prize, one month of absolute luxury at Dudes Down Under--Paparazzi free!  If the guests can get by without cell phones, televisions, computers, personal trainers … in short, everything they think they will die without.

Cyril is my anthropomorphic Crocodile and a pivotal character in my book ...the humans in the book can't hear his thoughts, but YOU the reader can. Makes for some very er-um ... interesting misunderstandings! That's Cyril below on the cover!

The getting to know Cyril interviews.{Only appearing when the Alphabet permits}

Yesterday He was interviewed by a novice…today it’s moi doing the interview, so he of course will behave.

Mornin' Cyril, welcome to your next interview my friend.

Morning? It's morning? Why wasn't I told? I'm simply not prepared. Where's my breakfast?

Now Cyril, watch your blood pressure.

Blood pressure? Can I die from that? Am I dying? What does one wear when one dies?

Cyril, settle down, your face is turning red, in a greenish sort of way.

Red...eeek! No that will never do, I never wear red. Does dreadful things for my complexion. Red indeed. Hrmph! Not about to happen.

Oh, I don't know mate, it kinda matches your eyes.

Very droll, imbecile. YOU shouldn't have allowed me to drink that entire bottle of J.D. What were you thinking?

It's hard to resist a drunken 28ft long crocodile, especially when he is sitting on your chest.

Oh, give me a break. You know I like company. Besides you don't seriously call that a chest? Now that lovely Angelina person...she has a chest.

Careful buddy, we wouldn't like to misplace all those wonderful Al Pacino DvDs would we?

Eeeeek, no! Is that legal? You wouldn't. You couldn't! Yes , you would. Noooo. I'll behave...I'll even wear non-designer. No, cancel that remark. I'll...promise not to fart in mixed company.

You do enjoy Mr Pacino, and of course we then have Mr. Brando. Tell me did you enjoy the movie last night?

Enjoy? Tsk, I hate understatement. The Godfather ... sigh! So romantic. And of course they are BOTH in it...I dressed for the occasion. Do you have any idea just how difficult it is for me to wear TAILS? Seriously! Ahhhh but nothing less would do. Tell me, what happened to what was left of the horse?

That was make believe Cyril.

Make believe what? 'A horse is a horse of course of course'. I did wonder about 'Wilbur" though...a sandwich short of a picnic if you want my opinion.

  "Mr Ed," was make believe...be original, can’t you?

You want original? You are talking to a 28ft long crocodile who is wearing a pink sun hat, Gucci sunglasses, and a Givenchy designed T-shirt, not to mention drinking VB beer from a stein. And you want Original?

Point taken.

Taken where?

No ... it’s an expression?

“I got 46 expressions ...soft as soap and tough as leather and that’s 46 more than all those Barrymore’s put together!”

That’s Streisand from Funny Girl.

I do love Babs.

Perfectly understandable. I have another Brando movie up for you to watch tonight.

Ah, you do spoil moi. Ooooh, I must dress, is it another romance, like the Godfather?

Not ...exactly. It’s called “Last Tango in Paris.”

A musical! How stunning...Brando in a musical, oh I am soooo excited. What does one wear to a musical?...The "Carmen Miranda" perhaps. I simply can’t wait!

Neither can I.

Soooz! You’re smirking...why are you smirking?

To be Continued…when the Alphabet permits!

The A-Z Challenge Day #3 "C" = Crocodile (With a difference)

 April A-Z Challenge Day 3...C for Cyril the Crocodile ( With a difference}


Cyril is a pivotal character in my Comedy Romance novel "Dudes Down Under" I could say more, but why spoil a perfectly good interview with a crocodile?  Um-- oh hell, just read it..you'll get the drift.

Interview with Mr. Cyril. C.Roc. Odile.

Please welcome my guest this week.


Cyril…may I call you Cyril?


Let me think on that …

Um … er ... Mr. C. C. Roc Odile; seems so, er-formal.

Yes it does…


Well then…?

Well then what?

May I call you, Cyril?

Let me think on that…

Very well then, may I ask where you were born?

No.

I … Why not?

My business.

But … but this is an interview.

It is?

Well it’s supposed to be.

“Oh…that’s different. I thought you were just sticking your nose where it didn’t belong. Who did it by the way?

Er … did it?

Yes did it, your nose dear. Who did it?

“Oh well, um. The new guy in Hollywood.

Pity.

Pity? Why..what? Is something wrong with it?

He should have stopped after he did Michaels .

He did Michaels?

Is there an echo in here? Still it could be worse I suppose, you could have had him do the boobs as well.

He did.

Oh…he heh. Big reduction hey?

No- no he … wait a minute, I’m supposed to be interviewing you.

Then go ahead.

Are you surprised to find yourself here in Hollywood?

No..that’s where I intended to get to when I boarded the plane for LA.

I mean, er hem are you surprised by the fame?

No

Oh.

You should never wear pink with that hair dear.

What?

Pink …are you deaf? You should never ever wear pink.

Why?

It’s so yesterday. It would work if you matched the hair color though.

Do you think so?

Oh absolutely you must visit my guy, he’s fabulous.

Oh-do you have his card?

Card?…Oh how quaint. I’ll have his guy call your guy.

Which guy?

The guy who sets things up with his guy.

He has a guy?

That’s the rumour.

Can we get back to the interview?

It moved?

No!  I mean can I ask you some more questions?

About air travel?

No. Please tell my readers how you came to be here.

They don’t know?

No.

Wow..who’d have thought in this day and age…I’m shocked.

Shocked?

Stunned.

Stunned?

Do we have the echo back?

No. Why are you shocked?

Well dear I mean really…I would have thought that anyone who could be reading this would know how I came to be here.

Explain?

Are you shittin’ me?

No…no really, I’m certain they’d love to know.

Well, okay then if you’re certain?

Oh yes…please go ahead.

You yanks are a strange lot. Well my mom was kinda shy..you know went a darker shade of green everytime my pa looked in her direction. They tell me it was a whirlwind courtship, which of course is not as powerful as a cyclone one. Anywho..they had the ceremony, and he dragged her over the nesthold and viola 48 hatchlings. Does that cover it?

Oh …my.

Oh my what?

I … it’s just that it wasn’t…I didn’t…you shouldn’t…I really must go

But baby it’s cold outside …look out the window at that storm

I really can’t stay…

I’ll allow you to call me Cyril

What?

Cyril … you may call me Cyril

Oh … gee okay…thanks.

Welcome. So where were we?

I have no idea.

You’re the one conducting the interview.

I am?

That’s the rumour.

Oh. yes…yes I am. Um…is your wife with you?

Are you vision impaired?

What?

Vision impaired.

No.

Are you quite certain?

Well, yes.

Oh…perhaps you should get it checked.

Why?

Because you can’t see that Sadie isn’t here with me.

What?

You asked if my wife was with me. Trust me you would know if you weren’t vision impaired. She’s wearing the Carmen Miranda outfit today.

Oh …my.

Oh my what?

I feel quite faint.

You want I should give you mouth to snout?

Uh, no…but thanks.

Welcome. So, this fainting thing, how long has that been happening?

Oh around 15 minutes or so.

That recent. You could be pregnant you know.

Oh I hardly think so.

Oh. Why not?

Well, I don’t.. it isn’t as if...! That’s hardly your business.

I thought this was an interview.

It is.

So why can’t I ask questions?

I’m interviewing you!

Apparently.

You are making this difficult.

I am?

Well yes, yes you are.

Why?

Why what?

Why am I making this difficult?

I don’t know.

Have you considered giving up your day job?

Please can I just get a straight answer?

Well, who is getting a little tetchy?

You appear in a book, yes?

Yes.

What’s it called?

A…book…dear.

Noooooo…the name, I want the name of the book!

You really should have done your research.

I did.

Then why don’t you know the name of the book?

I do.

Then why did you ask me?

I need a drink.

A drink, hey now your talking. Make mine a JD straight up no ice.

You drink?

Is the Pope Catholic?

What?

My word you are in a bad way. Vision impaired, hearing impaired…and we won’t even go near the nose thing.

I think we need to bring this interview to a close.

Why, I’m just getting the hang of asking you questions?

Precisely.

I did bad?

Very.

Oops. Let me make it up to you.

How?

Even I won’t go near that one!

How do you plan on making it up to ME?

You're yelling.

Sorry.

Have I upset you?

Yes!

Oh my, how unfortunate.

It is.

Perhaps I should go?

Yes.

Would you like to come with me?

What?

Would..you like ..to …come… read my lips dear…with me?

Where are you going?

I’m dining with Al.

Al who?

Oh my God! There is only one.

Huh?

You haven’t met, Al?

AL WHO????


But…but, how could you not have met Al?


The interview was discontinued at this point. The interviewer is believed to be making a slow but steady recovery.


As for Mr. Cyril C. Roc. Odile, well he is dining with … not on … Al.


 Don’t you dare ask Al who?

Read more about Cyril, Al, and the rest of the crazy folks on Slush pile reader


link thingy...http://www.slushpilereader.com/index.php?option=com_comprofiler&Itemid=3


My book is currently ranked number #8... it would be nice to hit the top five....heheh..Cyril said that.

He even has his own blog site...http://dudesdownunder-soooz.blogspot.com/