Tuesday, June 8, 2010

A 'story' that needs work

 A friend of mine has a wordpress blog that people can join into for collaborative fiction writing. (Here) I began writing a story, kind of in the middle of itself, and came to a standstill, unable to decide how I wanted to proceed.

 A sudden, loud clap to his left caught Rumchugger by surprise, snapping him out of his troubled thoughts-and there had been plenty of those, since the evening before...both, the startling noises and the troubled thoughts.
But no time for that now, as someone with a huge parrot on their  shoulder was stumbling toward Rumchugger, nearly falling.
"Drunkenmimes, must you be so oblivious? It's ten o'clock in the morning," exclaimed Rum.
Drunkenmimes burped and looked sheepish. The parrot  ruffled it's  wings. "RAWK, only a pint boss! Nothin' eh git heated aboat!"
Rumchugger blinked and raised his eyebrows. This stinkin' mute, he thought. "Actually..hmm. Ye know what, I could use a soother myself. What's say you join me inside, eh?"
Rumchugger held the half-hinged door to the inn open. "We need to have a palaver."
Drunkenmimes grinned silently and the parrot snapped his head around. "RAWK, see now that's the roit ticket guvnah!"
Rumchugger led Drunkenmimes to an empty booth in the corner, which, under normal circumstances, would have been occupied by rogues and mutineers at this hour. Rum shoved Drunken into the seat, and pacified the parrot underneath the table with a few crackers.
Rum produced a quill and a bit of paper. "What's that raucous creature's name anyway, or does he even have one?"
Drunken picked up the quill a wrote, "Drunkenbird." Then, "so what about that pint?"
"We'll get to that bit my friend, presently." Rum made a steeple with his fingers. "But first, I have a few questions I'd like to ask you."
"I rather fancy the imported bevvies," wrote Drunken.
Rum put his hand on the back of Drunken's neck and gripped it firmly. "Who was aboard The Holey Mackerel last night?"
Drunken looked utterly, convincingly confused. But Rum wasn't buying it. He pulled from his coat pocket a small pipe, ornately engraved with the words "Carpe Cerevisi", one of Drunkenmime's  favorite unspoken expressions.
"Now," began Rum slowly. "Who, other than yourself, was aboard that ship?"

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