I’ve updated this blog with some new features. For instance, you can now rate the Bouffon Stories I write. Please do so! The more ratings I get, the better I am able to determine which stories I should include in the anthology. Also, you can now give comments a thumbs up or down rating. Now you people just need to start commenting. Don’t be shy! And finally, I’ve made it a bit easier for you to submit writing prompts for the Bouffon Stories. Just go to this page and leave a comment , it’s that simple.
Now, on to the stories for today. The first one is for TTG forum member Ribs , who came up with this elaborate prompt:
Okay, I’ll try something else too; three lines of dialogue, two props, and a basic premise/setting.
-”Well, that’s what I call a difficult seal to club.”
-”You cannot conquer the galaxy without the space crystal!”
-”So are you and Mark still together?”-A revolver
-A purple balloon-A politician announcing an affair with his mistress
Here’s the result.
Somewhere Over The Arctic
“Well, that’s what I call a difficult seal to club,” Mark said, looking over the edge of the basket held up by a purple hot air balloon. “Oh, sorry, Yvonne… It’s just that I deal with these things on a daily basis, and I get desensitized, right?”
“Right, right, sure.”
“I mean, it’s all good, right? Oh, darling,” he said, filling his lungs with the cold polar air, “you really must love me very much that you booked us this amazing trip.”
“Right, right, sure.”
“Darling? Is something the matter?”
“No. I just wish that for once, you were honest with me.”
“Honest? What do you mean?”
“Oh, come on, I’m not blind! I know all about you and that hussy… Paulette.” The last word came out as if Yvonne had just bit on her tongue and spat out the blood.
Mark gulped. “Look. Listen. I… I don’t know what you know… what you think you know, but…”
“Just tell me this. Is it true?”
“I…” Mark hung his head. “Yes.”
“Good. That’s all I wanted to hear.”
Yvonne took a cell phone out of her purse.
“What… what are you going to do?”
She didn’t answer.
“Oh, hi, Paulette, it’s you, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” Paulette answered, confused.
“Look, it’s me, Yvonne.”
“Yvonne? Oh! What… what’s up?”
“Mark just told me all about you two.”
“Really now,” Paulette said, and she started laughing heartily. “So are you and Mark still together?”
“Not for long,” Yvonne answered, and she ended the call. Then she ordered the balloon pilot to land.
“You can’t land here!” Mark said.
“You’ll find that there is very little I can’t do,” Yvonne said, taking a revolver out of her purse.
“Now look, you can’t do that.”
“Why not, mister high and mighty governor? Always giving out orders, feeling like you’re… you’re… yes, like you’re a space crystal in a science fiction film. Everyone is always looking up to you, longing for you, everyone wants a piece of you. Well, not anymore. This is the end of the line. Get out.”
“But, surely…”
“I said get out of the basket!” Yvonne snapped, pointing the revolver at her husband.
“Now it’s my turn to conquer the galaxy,” she said, leaving Mark behind in the barren Arctic landscape.
“You cannot conquer the galaxy without the space crystal!” Mark shouted after the ascending balloon.
“You can if you get yourself a new crystal…” Yvonne said. Her lips curled into a smile as she embraced the balloon pilot. “To South America… darling.”
Next up is a prompt that took me a while to get my head around. It’s by Lucoshi , and it goes like this:
Strong Bad
Vocaloid!
Not knowing what Vocaloid was didn’t help either, but like a good writer, I did some research. Fortunately I am familiar with Strong Bad, but even then, getting him into a story isn’t particularly easy. The character was made for cartoons. I didn’t want to turn it into fan fiction either, at least not blatantly so. So anyway, here’s the result.
Hiring
Two businessmen sat at a desk, looking through piles of paper.
“What do you think of this one?”
“Hmm, no, not creative enough.”
“And this one?”
“Yes, that’s more like it, but look at all those spelling errors! No, that one goes straight into the bin.”
After an hour of this, they came to the last sheet in the pile. That one was rejected as well.
“So, what now? Do we just hire nobody and do it ourselves?”
“What?! You mean work ? But then who’ll run the company?”
“The same people who do it already. The accountant, the tea lady, the wage slaves.”
“Tell you what. There’s one application I haven’t included. Mainly because it’s not on paper.”
The man pulled a disc out of his jacket pocket.
“What’s that?”
“I’ve got no idea. Could be a virus. Could be anything, really.”
“Hmmm… okay, let’s see.”
It was a DVD.
“Who’s that?” one of the men said, pointing to a figure that had just appeared on screen.
“Oh, I know, that’s… uh… String Bod or something. My son watches these cartoon thingies on the Internet, and I’ve seen that guy once.”
“Oh. Ah, he’s going to say something.”
“Hello you guys. My name is Strong Bad, and I’m going to sing you a song!” the character on screen said. It then transformed into an anime character with blue hair, and began singing a most unusual song, with pitches way outside any human being’s range.
“That… that was…”
“Beautiful,” agreed the other businessman.
“Yeah, and that’s some skill with Vocaloid ! Just what we need for our new ad campaign!” He picked up the phone. “Miss Evans, please send in the applicant who gave us that disc.”
A few moments later, a little yellow… thing… with black spots… came walking in.
“Mwee?”
“Uh. Hello. You’re… uh… hired. I guess.”
“Mwoo wee mroo!”
