This challenge is produced by GirlieOnTheEdge with the following simple rules:
Write 6 Sentences. No more. No less.
Use the current week’s prompt word – HANDLE
This week, for reasons which utterly escape me, I have been invited to do a ‘walk-on’ by Clark, a guy on a different blog. As this does not involve any walking on that I can see, except on here, I’m unsure as to the purpose of the invitation, which I accept simply to poke some fun.
Click here to hear the author read his words:
Fox News
Defying all laws of literary logic and alliterative liaisons, Ian Devereux’s eyes narrow, then widen, much like the road to Achaphubuil in Lochaber, as he slips into his capacious pockets his well-oiled and well-used pistol, a haggis and hyperbole sandwich (vastly overrated, even with the crusts removed), and an extra sprinkling of ellipses which he suspects might be sorely needed this week, before venturing forth into the dangerous night…
His train of thought suddenly departs for an altogether different terminus as he catches a glimpse of a small, red, furry-tailed creature cha-chaing merrily into the misty distance, causing him to exclaim ‘Watt the Fox!’ before reminding himself that this is a family blog, and expanding his involuntary utterance to ‘James Watt, the famous Scottish fox engineer and inventor (it is a rule that all Scots are engineers even, apparently, the wildlife), because this means that she must be here too…
Yes, Sister Margaret Ryan, aka the nun with the gun, a devilishly clever adversary from a different story, highly dangerous (a black belt in origami), highly educated (degrees in Criminal Incompetence and Legal Lampooning), highly versatile (she plays wide receiver for the New England Patriots), highly polyglottal (she can, obviously, converse with parrots, and probably penguins, and now it seems she also speaks reynard)… but what is she doing on his patch, tonight of all nights…
Taking his life, or at least his sandwich, in both hands, Devereux strides purposelessly towards (or maybe away from, he is hopelessly disoriented by the fog) his nemesis, the most deadly foe he has yet faced in his short (it’s just the verbiage that makes it seem longer) and illustrious (is that how you spell lustreless?) career, until he sees the sign ‘Leopard-free Zone’ (which he always thinks might be a typographical error that should read ‘Leper-free Zone’ as he has never, to his knowledge, seen a leper anywhere near here) and he realises he has been utterly misled by the sly be-brushed vulpine…
He is bewitched, bothered and befuddled, but sadly without the quality backing that Ms Fitzgerald received (and richly deserved), so he stumbles haphazardly and half-heartedly into the devilishly cunning but as yet unexplained trap so carefully prepared by smiling Sister Sedition and so casually triggered by this one-off walk-on character from not only another tale and another genre (where he was also a trouble-making wee toerag), but an entirely different interwebthingy platform…
As our hero plummets, like Tarzan at the end of each episode of the Saturday Matinée, towards a death worse than fate, we ask ourselves these questions… at what point did you realise that I had no idea what I was supposed to do here…why did I bother re-introducing the Spinning Nun … what the Fox he doing here… does this make any more sense than Clark’s usual taciturn impenetrability… do you know that ‘Rire’ is French for the execrable ‘Lol’… will Devereux ride again (that was a good movie, gotta love Jimmy Stewart)… Will Smith (that’s not much of a question)… have you stopped reading yet… or will you tune in again next week to read The Wakefield Apology… can you handle any more excitement… and, as this is the penultimates ellipsis in the aforementioned capacious pocket, would you believe that this is… the end…
* * *
The Fox, in different national guise, usually hangs out here:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jsELmvd7YSs
Sound Bite Fiction 
I must say this article definitely put a smile on my face.
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i listened to your audiofile. What a wonderful trip, that made me snort laughter many times. can’t wait for the next!
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Really, Liz, ladies don’t snort!
Oh wait, you’re American…
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Ooh. Harshness. 😯
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Laughing.
Scottish humour means always poking fun at people you like.
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Oh my. And here I am from the Midwest U.S., where we have a stiff reputation for being “nice.” 😂😂😂
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“The Wakefield Apology”. Ahahahaahaaa!
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Laughing here.
Glad you were amused.
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What a wonderful welter of words! I’m more of a meiosis and mustard sandwich man myself. A splendid six CE.
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Thanks, Keith, but I do hope that’s not what you mean in your sandwich.
Too much mustard is bad for you.
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This was a delightfully entertaining “walk-on” and made even more so by being able to hear you tell it! Chuckles and laughter all the way through. Cleverness to the nth degree!
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Hi Pat, glad you enjoyed the ‘out loud’ version too.
This was a fun piece to write, so I’m happy that came across.
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Superb, CE! Big smiles started with the haggis and hyperbole sandwich… and then the giggles got louder and louder. Now I actually am…😂 The laughing on your side made it worse… or better…?
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Thanks, Chris.
I did intend to read it straight, but it was too daft for that in places.
I’m happy that you laughed, humour is not always easy to write.
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Excellent six
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Thanks, UP
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“I plan to leave. You want me to stay. Well, an element of conflict in any discussion’s a very good thing. It means everybody is taking part and nobody is left out.” (Elwood P Dowd)*
As that most famous of engineers once said, “I’ve giv’n her all she’s got captain, an’ I canna give her no more.”
Hey! Sear! Excellent walk-on.
As the kids** might say, ‘What a great serial fictional character mash up. It’s fun to see reference from other ‘writers’ to characters in stories that are sitting on imaginary and virtual (as opposed to virtuous***) bookshelves.
Kinda like that time in primary, (US: elementary school), when we first encounter our teacher while going the messages for our mom.
So, now that you’re hooked on the idea of walk-ons, I’ll let your know when I get the first tee shirts****
I’m thinking, “I’m a Sixarian. No sudden POV changes, please.”
Looks like I’ve used up my supply of astroids.
*thank you very much for that linkation (Destry>James Stewart>’Harvey’) My god! The lines (courtesy wikipedia) from the movie. Almost impossible to choose a favorite from the script… which, a follow-up thanks, the screenplay was by Mary Chase
**the hypo-aged to the right of you and to the left of you
*** not to be confused with a ‘god!-I-hope-this-sounds-clever’ comment I left at Susan St. Pierre’s very funny Six
**** Scottish for ‘What? A gentleman always goes with the formalwear at a funereal’
Footnote: Pretty much from ‘Fox News’ on? lol
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As the wonderful Roy Orbison says:
Walk on
Don’t even look
Walk on
Close up the book…
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I love the smell of universes clashing in the morning (or is it just my sandwich I can smell?). A well foxy tale this, CE, bravo. Love: “utterly misled by the sly be-brushed vulpine…” and “Lepoard/Leper-free Zone”
Le lol! 😁
“You could have at least left us your torch, ye wee gillie-wetfoot!” Inspector Archimedes Du Maurier. Fictional Scottish detective and engineer of faulty souls.
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Yes, that fox is a bit of a character.
In a previous incarnation he conned a little Giant into destroying a famous Glasgow landmark!
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Bizarre degrees for Sister Margaret: “Criminal Incompetence and Legal Lampooning”
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She’s a strange lady…
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Very strange
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I guess you haven’t seen this!
https://ceayr.com/2021/10/17/women-are-crazy/
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Heeheehee! Thank you.
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Hahaha! You’re welcome.
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Inspired, gut-busting and wickedly erudite. Monty Python meets Spike Milligan and then some. It’s hard to type when you’re laughing but easier for your ilk, Scots all being engineers and all.
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Very kind, Doug, and very much appreciated.
Sometimes it’s just fun to write stuff like this.
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Indeed it is. 🙂
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What a delightful and entertaining use of language and feast of words, all of which have an individual meaning…
And the sum of them will have me smiling for the rest of the day.
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Sometimes the words just tumble out. Or do I mean stumble…
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LOL. Have a foxing good time, old chap.
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Now, now, Susan, remember you’re a lady!
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