Today’s prompt: “A conversation about you that you weren’t supposed to overhear”
“Do you think they’ve got enough fat on ‘em that we can get some good bacon out of their belly?”
“Yeah, probably. I bet it’ll be good and marbled.”
Today’s prompt: “A hopelessly messy person and an obsessively neat person become roommates.”
Your roommate yells at you when you get mud on his nice rug because you didn’t wipe your feet well enough on the doormat. He’s incensed when it’s your turn to do chores and you sweep dirt under the rug (as if he didn’t do a second sweeping job every time it was your turn to sweep, anyway). You’ve taken to intentionally turning the rug a few degrees off kilter just so you can watch him seethe.
It’s all part and parcel with his mania for spotless dishes, the apoplectic rage he goes into when you get crumbs in the silverware drawer, and his insistence on vacuuming when you can’t even see dirt on the carpet (he swears it’s there, and that you tracked it in).
You’ll never understand why it bothers him so much when the dishwasher leaves residue in the bottoms of the glasses (he has taken to washing everything by hand). You don’t get why it matters whether you use wooden or metal utensils on his nonstick pans. But you think you know why he’s that way about the rug. It’s a nice rug.
Which is why you’re so perplexed when you come in one day and the rug, and everything else in the apartment, is covered with tarps. “Maybe he’s painting,” you think, before immediately dismissing the idea. He would never have painted anything in the house without first bringing home a few dozen paint swatches to get the exact right shade for the walls.
You see the axe in your peripheral vision. Oh. That’s why.
Today’s prompt: “The way things should have been”
The treasure chest should have been filled with brilliant rubies and gold coins, not an angry cobra.
Today’s prompt: “Write a letter to your landlord.”
To whom it may concern,
My name is Madge and I live in apartment 6 of your building at [ADDRESS REDACTED]. The last few days, I’ve noticed several beetles in my apartment. Could you please call an exterminator and get it taken care of?
Also, I’ve started to notice a really bad odor coming from somewhere. I don’t think it’s mildew this time. I asked Mrs. Nilsson if she was cooking something weird, but she denied it. Maybe you could look into it?
Sincerely,
Madge Searles
To whom it may concern,
I live in apartment 6 of the rental building at [ADDRESS REDACTED]. I wrote to you a few days ago about the beetles in my apartment. You still haven’t sent an exterminator. The beetles are getting much worse – there are a lot more of them. They seem to be gathering along the wall of the living room near the wall I share with apartment 5. Please send an exterminator soon. There are so many of them, and they give me the heebie-jeebies.
The smell has gotten worse as well. It’s almost like something died. Please send someone to figure out where it’s coming from.
Sincerely,
Madge Searles
To whom it may concern,
Madge from apartment 6 at [ADDRESS REDACTED] again. I looked up the beetles I wrote to you about. I think they’re carrion beetles. Maybe something really did die. Please send someone round immediately.
Sincerely,
Madge Searles
To whom it may concern,
Madge. Apartment 6. [ADDRESS REDACTED]. Since you still haven’t sent anyone to deal with the beetles, I pried up the floorboards where they had been congregating. Guess what? There’s a body there, buried face down. I have notified the police. I also fished the wallet out of their [pants pocket/purse] with my kitchen tongs. It’s someone named [insert your name here]. I don’t know how they got here – if the previous tenant left them, or if a maintenance person left them under the floorboards while I was out. Either way, you either failed inspect the unit properly after the last tenant left, or failed to vet your personnel properly. I expect my rent to be refunded.
Sincerely,
Madge Searles
Today’s prompt: “Life among the pirates”
Life among the pirates! Stormy seas! Rum, parrots and sea shanties! What will get you first – scurvy, keelhauling, or the kraken? (Hint – it’s all three at once.)
Today’s prompt: “Life in a snowbound cabin”
Life in a snowbound cabin! Snow up to the eaves! Impassable roads! What will get you first – hypothermia, starvation, or the roaming yeti? (Hint – it’s the yeti.)
Today’s prompt: “Write a script to give telemarketers to solicit donations for starving children in Africa.”
Hello sir or madam,
Have you ever considered what it’s like to die of starvation? I don’t know firsthand, but I do know secondhand, because they keep a cage of emaciated people here in the cube farm, so we can describe what we see to you. There’s like three of them in there now – there’s one woman with a fitted top, and you can literally count her ribs through it. There’s another fella who keeps staring at my sandwich, but the bosses won’t let us feed them. Sorry, dude, no pastrami for you. And there’s a third individual – looks like they have a name badge on? It says [insert your name here]. Huh. Wonder where they get the people for the cage. All of them are just skin and bones, and they all look absolutely miserable. Well, maybe not [insert your name here] as much – skin and bones, yes, but maybe not as miserable as the other two. There’s kind of a weird faraway look in their eyes. Anyway, there’s only three people in this cage, but in Africa, there’s a whole continent of them! Little kids, starving to death, their arms unnaturally thin, their torsos downright skeletal, their skin stretching concavely out toward the edges of their pelvic bones. Won’t you give $20 today to help save the lives of starving children?
Oh! [Insert your name here] just fell to the ground. I’m not sure if they fainted from hunger again, or if they – oh, nope, dead. Looks like security’s coming to take the body away. They like to do that before the other people in the cage can cannibalize them.