Wednesday, July 24, 2013

In The Holler

All six of her sisters had been forced to take Carl to their beds; he was their father, and it was his right, he told them.  They all knew that he was a foul, evil bastard, but out here in the middle of nowhere, what could they do?  Marjorie could not bear the thought of his sweaty hands touching her naked skin, his breath as rotten as his teeth as he loomed over her.  She would rather die.  This plan had to work.

"You ain't gonna charm gators by glaring at them, girl!" Carl hollered at her from the front porch, his huge belly quivering, his face hideous in the shadows. He had big plans for a gator wrestling arena, and Marjorie claimed to have a gift.  "Git to it!  Don't make me get off this porch!"

Marjorie warily eyed the alligator in front of her, her mind full of images of half-eaten severed limbs.  The twenty foot gator stared back, implacable.  His jaws could swallow her whole, if he had a mind to do so.  He hissed at her, and she realized that his teeth were longer than her fingers.  She pulled the sack dress over her head and flung it to the side, then performed a quick high kick that got Carl's undivided attention. Moving her hips in what she hoped was a sexy manner, she approached the alligator, swirling and pirouetting around him.  Occasionally she swung a hand down to sweep across the gator's rough skin, and the reptile seemed to hum with energy.  Her chest heaving in a quick rhythm, she finally fell, enticing Carl off the porch.  Marjorie waited for him to extend that arm toward a bared breast, and was rewarded with the heavy snap of an alligator's jaws.  Carl's screams ricocheted around the trees.   The gator let go of Carl's arm long enough to clamp down on his head until the screaming stopped. 

Problem solved, Marjorie thought, as the alligator dragged Carl into the swamp.  






The prompt is the third definition of the word CHARM.



And, lucky ducks you are, you now get to write-up to 500 words of fiction or creative non-fiction by 11:55 p.m. PST on Thursday night using one or both of the following images.

And this is my pal Spike who, by the way, was a fantastic listener. As I stroked his head and drank my wine, it did occur to me that he could bite my arm off.
WoE Photo 16
So there you have it! This week’s prompts. Allons-y!

12 comments:

  1. oh you blow me away every single week, this was just the right amount of sneaky, naughty and funny (well deserved for that horrible man)

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  2. Ha! What a good alligator. I hope she feeds him whatever he wants for the rest of his life. I agree with Kir, this was a perfect balance of horrifying and hilarious. I'll admit that I was a little worried that Marjorie's plan was heading south so I was double glad when Carl was eaten.

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  3. OK, so twisted and yet I LOVED it! Sweet justice for the girls and just enough vindictiveness. :)

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  4. Great writing. I had trouble reading it first because of the topic but it was very interesting and kept my attention. Glad it ended happily. Good gator.

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  5. Woman, you got me with that one!It was written so well, but of such a terrible thing, that I almost couldn't read, but letting us know that crock was there made me realize things would turn out just fine!

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  6. Wasn't sure where you were going to go with this one but enjoyed it, especially the ending!

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  7. Fitting he took the arm first. Enjoyed.

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  8. That man is so rotten that poor gator will likely have a belly ache. I'm glad he won't bother the girls anymore, though.

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  9. Sneaky, sneaky. And well-deserved for someone so horrid.

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  10. Perfect! This was just a great little story. Loved it.

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  11. Well, I guess that's one way to take care of the problem. A fitting end to a horrid man.

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  12. What a plan! I read with bated breath, wondering if Marjorie would really be able to pull it off. Glad you went with the happy ending. :)

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