Sunday Photo Fiction: Rolling Stoners – Ep. 9

This is the Beagle 2. Photograph taken in 2009 at the National Space Centre, Leicester, UK.  This was a machine designed to be sent to Mars and to use the instruments on board to send data back to Earth as to the composition and makeup of the red Planet. Of course, it could be anything at all for your fiction piece, it does not have to be the Beagle 2

Rick shivered from his impromptu swim as he rode into the small village. He glanced over at Terry, subdued after the cyborg told him if he didn’t shut-up limbs would start coming off.

Gabby purred and Rick followed the direction her furred-arm pointed. A white-haired woman stood outside a hut, arms open in greeting. “Welcome, newcomers. I won’t say it’s good to see you, since you’re here by terrible accident.” She grinned. “With luck, our stay will be ending soon. Come.”

She slipped inside and Rick’s ride ambled next to the door. Rick, Terry, Gabby, the cyborg, and a knight entered to see a small disc-shaped object with a metal arm. The woman gestured at it. “This is a dimensional transporter. I’ve been working on it for years, and, with a few tweaks, we’ll be ready to go.”

A shout sounded outside and the woman excused herself. Rick smiled at Gabby, but felt sorry he wouldn’t get to know her better. The knight and cyborg chatted about the village’s defenses.

Nobody paid attention to Terry, who muttered, “Screw this. I’m outta here.” He slapped the button on the machine and a glow encompassed all the occupants and the dinosaur outside.

Word Count: 200

Sunday Photo Fiction

Sunday Photo Fiction means Rolling Stoners time (or is it the other way around?)! Regardless, every week Al posts a photo that I try to hammer into my story with all the subtlety of a rampaging elephant. This week the photo inspired ideas of another transporter device. So where will the suddenly not alone boys end up?

You’ll know right after I do, ’cause I’m winging it as I go 😀

Hope you enjoy.

Happy Reading and Writing!

J. Milburn

 

 

 

 

 

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Sunday Photo Fiction: Rolling Stoners – Ep. 8

44 01 January 26th 2014

 

The pachycephalosaurs thumped along the bridge above a burbling mini-waterfall. Rick watched as an unconscious Terry inched closer to sliding off the dinosaur with every jostle. “Just a bit more.”

The knights reined their mounts back at another knight’s appearance. Terry hit the ground with a thud. “Don’t leave, Miley! I’ll twerk with you!” Terry cried. His ass gyrated on the stone.

“What does that mean?” Gabby asked.

He sighed and hopped down. “It means he’s an idiot.” He strode over and patted Terry’s face. “Wake up.”

Terry reached up and pulled Rick closer to puckered lips. Rick slapped him…hard. “Dude!”

Terry’s fist shot out and Rick collapsed, holding his just-punched junk. “AAAAHHHH! Dick!”

Terry rolled over on top of Rick, punches rising and falling. “Why’d you slap me, asshole?”

Rick flailed back and the two scuffled around the bridge. A whirring sound rose above the noise of the brouhaha as the new knight stomped over. He reached them as Terry rolled into a pile of dinosaur dung.

Strong hands separated the two. “A cyborg?” Rick said.

“Hey, is your dong metal?” Terry asked.

The cyborg threw Terry over the bridge. “Ha! Than-”

Rick flew into the water after his friend.

Word Count: 200

Sunday Photo Fiction

 

Sunday Photo Fiction Time! Every week Al posts a photo and every week I try to advance Rolling Stoners by shoe-horning it into the story somehow. It’s been working…so far (and depending on your definition of ‘working’). Head on over and join in the fun!

Hope you enjoy.

Happy Reading and Writing!

J. Milburn

 

 

Sunday Photo Fiction: Knights Riding Dinosaurs?

Stained Glass window on the old Town Hall in Dover. This building used to be Maison Dieu (house of God) when it was built in 1253. It was added to and added to, becoming a gaol, a hospital before becoming the Town Hall.  The stained glass is representative of the Cinque Ports.

Stained Glass window on the old Town Hall in Dover. This building used to be Maison Dieu (house of God) when it was built in 1253. It was added to and added to, becoming a gaol, a hospital before becoming the Town Hall.
The stained glass is representative of the Cinque Ports.

Rick stumbled when the Leono guard shoved him. Gabby, of the Tigro clan and fellow prisoner, snarled and tugged against the ropes binding her body to the firing-squad post. Terry slumped against his restraints, not-so-victim of a butt-stroke from an enraged Leoness after she caught the gist of his comment about her four nipples.

Rick took position against the purple-plank set aside for his demise. He closed his eyes as clawed hands wrapped him in his death-shroud.

A roar caused him to peek out of one eye. His jaw dropped. “Are…are those…knights riding dinosaurs?”

Gabby grinned, fangs gleaming. “It seems you shall meet your kinsmen after all.”

The ground rumbled as three lizards with solid bone domes trampled through the Leono village. A knight rode each monster, shields reflecting red bolts of energy back at the stupefied warriors.

The improbable combination stopped in front of the prisoners, and Rick winced as a sword flashed. His rescuer hauled him on the back of the pachycephalosaurus and headed out.

Terry, wakened by the commotion, called, “Kniggets? This world is awesome!”

“Python? Really?”

“If the hamster fits,” Terry said before a metal elbow knocked him unconscious again.

“Thanks for that,” Rick called.

Word Count: 200

Sunday Photo Fiction

The Seventh installment of the ongoing epic saga, Rolling Stoners, for Sunday Photo Fiction. Every week Al posts a photo for various writers to draw inspiration from. And every week I try to figure out a way to cram that photo prompt into this story somehow. Serendipity struck as I needed a way to rescue the “heroes” from doom (okay, two heroes and Terry), and knights fit the bill.

For you haibunophiles out there, Al’s starting a new challenge Tuesday: Haibun Thinking. Make sure to check it out!

Pachycephalosaurus (Bone-Head)

For those who may be unfamiliar with the end reference:

Hope you enjoy.

Happy Reading and Writing!

J. Milburn

Sunday Photo Fiction: “Rolling Stoners” Epizodo Ses

42 01 January 12th 2014

Rick stirred, opening his eyes to see a metal gate with a rusted chain and lock keeping it closed. A rotten smell hit his nose. “Agh! God…Terry!”

“Wakey-wakey, asshole.” Terry’s mug peered down at him. “Remind you of that time in Tijuana?”

“I told you that donkey show looked shady.” A soft purr caused him to sit up and glance around the cell. A creature that looked like the tiger-woman they’d spied on slept curled in the corner.

Terry followed Rick’s gaze. “Heh. Our own naked alien. These guys rock!”

Rick glared at him. “You ever stop to think we might be this…whatever’s dinner?”

“I don’t eat junk-food,” floated a soft growl. “Especially that provided by the Leono sedimento.” Tiger-woman stretched, arching her back, then started licking her fur.

The “cat-bath” mesmerized Rick. He turned his head…his eyes taking in Terry’s pants pointing. “Dude!”

“I can’t help it, dick.”

Curious green-gold eyes watched. “You two are strange. Not like the others we’ve found.”

Rick kept his gaze averted. “There are others?”

“Yes, though I’m afraid our execution will keep you from meeting them.”

“E-execution?” Rick glared up at Terry, who leered at the alien. “Sometimes I really hate you.”

Sunday Photo Fiction

Another chapter in the ongoing saga of Rolling Stoners, for Sunday Photo Fiction. The host of Sunday Photo Fiction is creating a new blog for a new challenge: Haibun. He’s after photos and artwork, so if you are interested head over to the Sunday Photo Fiction page, leave a comment and he’ll contact you.

Hope you enjoyed this week’s installment of Rolling Stoners. Now I have to figure out how to write myself out of the execution corner 😉

By the way, some of the language is Esperanto.

Happy Reading and Writing!

J. Milburn

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Trifecta Week 107: Another Fine Mess

The flash of light faded, leaving purple and red floating in Rick’s vision. He sank to his knees, the violent whatever-just-happened causing his lunch to fight its way to freedom. An echoing response made breakfast take part in the jailbreak.

He moaned and tipped over, careful to miss the putrid pool he’d created. He saw his friend, Terry, laying next to a similar puddle of treacherous meals. “Dude,” Rick croaked.

Terry lifted his arm, middle-finger extended. Rick decided that served as proof of life, and drifted into darkness.

***

Selena twirled around the pole with only her legs, hands moving in the intricate pattern of unhooking. Justin jumped on stage, blocking the view. “I got SWAG, bitch!”

Eyes snapped open, and crimson skies greeted Rick. He struggled to a sitting position, gazing in horror at the blue and yellow-leaved trees looming over indigo grass. He scrambled backwards until he bumped into Terry. “Dude!” He slapped him. “Terry! Wake up!”

Terry stirred. “Don’t tell me you had that stupid-ass Bieber dream again.”

“WAKE UP! ASSHOLE!” Terry jerked up and punched him. “Ow! Dick!”

“Well, what’s so damn important you had to wake me up?”

Rick pointed to the foliage and the sky. Terry’s jaw gaped open. “What did you do?”

“What did I do?” Rick sputtered. “You’re the douche that touched the globe, not me!”

Rick jumped up. “You always do this! First, it was that crazy goddess chick, now this.” He threw up his hands. “Screw this. I’m finding my way home by myself.” He stomped off to the edge of the treeline, but didn’t enter. He just stood, back turned and arms crossed.

Terry muttered, “I know what’ll melt that hard-ass of yours.” He pulled out his baggie and began to roll.

Rick’s shoulders relaxed as the sweet smell hit him. He stomped back over and held out his hand. After two puffs, he passed it back. “You’re still a dick.”

Terry just grinned as he took a drag.

photo credit: zzbaggins

Word Count: 332

Trifecta Time again! For those that follow my blog or participate in/follow the Speakeasy and Sunday Photo Fiction challenges, Rick and Terry will be familiar to you. For those that don’t, I invite you to click here for their first “adventure” and here for the immediate precursor to this week’s tale (and to follow my blog if you haven’t already done so 😉 ).

Stay tuned, for this is not the end of Rick and Terry.

This week’s challenge:

Create a 33-333 word story or poem using the third definition of:

MELT (transitive verb)

:  to reduce from a solid to a liquid state usually by heat
:  to cause to disappear or disperse
Head on over to Trifecta and read some great writers. Seriously, I’m humbled by how good some of these people are. Also, join in! It’s a great community and fun challenge.
Hope you enjoy!
Happy Reading and Writing!
J. Milburn