Suspense

Time to write!

The past couple nights I have listened to an old radio show called "Suspense" with some of my friends, and I got to thinking I should write my own Suspense radio program. Unfortunately I'm really sleepy so it might turn out, but we will give it our best shot, and by we I of course mean I. Because this is in the style of Suspense, there will be no commentary, merely dialogue, so it's basically just a script, and is also set in not modern day.

Jenna: "Do you think we'll be able to reach the hotel by eleven, Harold?"
Harold: "Oh I don't know Jenna, we'll get there sometime tonight."
Jenna: "I just hate trying to find places we've never been to in the dark. Everything looks so different."
Harold: "We'll be fine."
Jenna: "Always so sure of everything, that's you. Never mind all the times we've actually gotten lost."
Harold: "Jenna, I said we'll be fine. We'll be fine. Now stop your worrying. Turn on the radio why don't you."
*Radio static*
Radio broadcaster:  ...which concludes our weather for the week. In sports the Braves have beaten the Cardinals, leaving them undefeated and over halfway through the season. Jerry, do you have more on that?"
Jenna: "Who really cares about a baseball game? I wish we could just--"
Harold: "Could you not complain about this right now, I'd like to hear the story."
Jenna: "What more do you need to know? You know who won. Now can't we just --"
Harold: "Jenna, please!"
Radio broadcaster: ...scoring another home run in the bottom of the fifth inning, with the Braves trailing badly.
Jenna: "You don't need to lose your patience with me, you know. It was your idea to come on this trip. All the way out to the city, so you can see your old college friends. The least you could do is talk to me."
Harold: "I'm sorry, dear. We can turn the radio off. Just after we hear the end of this segment."
Radio broadcaster:  "...It certainly was a great game, thanks Jerry."
Jenna: "Can we turn it off now?"
Radio broadcaster: "...Thanks for tuning in. Now, listeners, it's come to our attention that I-25 is going to be under some pretty heavy construction tonight. It you're trying to head into the city, it's suggested that you find an alternate route or delay your commute to tomorrow afternoon, by which time the road should again be clear."
Jenna: "Did you hear that, Harold? Did you hear that?"
Harold: "Yes."
Jenna: "Well what are we going to do?"
Harold: "We're going to do like the broadcaster said, Jenna. We'll find an alternate route. We'll be fine."
*tires screech*
Jenna: "Mercy! Be careful! We don't have to exit the freeway that quickly!"
Harold: "If we're going to find another way into the city tonight, we better be quick about it."
Jenna: "Harold, please slow down. It's starting to rain. I don't want to crash."
Harold: "We'll be fine."
Jenna: "Slow down! Please. Please slow down."
Harold: "Now you've done it, Jenna. Your fussing has gotten me distracted."
Jenna: "You mean you don't know where we are?"
Harold: "Well I know where we are. I just don't know how to get to the city from this road."
Jenna: "We're lost. I knew this would happen."
Harold: "We'll be find. Your worrying isn't going to help anything."
Jenna: "We should ask someone for directions."
Harold: "We're on an old road. Who are we gonna ask?"
Jenna: "We can ask him. We can ask that man."
Harold: "What man?"
Jenna: "That man, on the side of the road. Why, his car must have broken down. His headlights are flashing. It's starting to rain awfully hard. We ought to stop and help him."
Harold: "I'd rather not, Jenna. You never know what kind of crazy people hang out on the streets at night."
Jenna: "We're out in the country, Harold, and his car is broken down. If our car was broken down and we were out here in the country, in the rain, wouldn't you hope someone would stop to help us?"
Harold: "Jenna...."
Jenna: "Wouldn't you?"
Harold: "Oh alright, alright...."
*car stopping*
Harold: "Uh, excuse me sir! Car troubles?"
Man: "Yes! Yes. Oh, prayers are answered. Oh, thank you sir, thank you. It seems my car's engine has given up and died, and in the dark and in the rain, there's no way I can fix it just now. Do you think you could give me a lift into the city?"
Harold: "Well I don't know..."
Jenna: "Harold!"
Harold: *sighs* "We're actually headed there, but are a little hazy on the directions. You wouldn't happen to know the way would you?"
Man: "Sure do! I can be your guide."
Harold: "Well, alright. Hop in the back I guess."
*car unlocks, door opens, then shuts. Engine starts back up*
Jenna: "What about your car?"
Man: "Oh I'll just have my wife drive me back tomorrow and I'll see what went wrong."
Harold: "Do you know where we turn off?"
Man: "Just keep going straight for awhile."
Harold: "Alright. So what do you do for a living?"
Man: "I, uh, I'm a salesman. I sell jewelry mostly."
Harold: "I see." *clearly not very interested*
Man: "It takes me traveling a lot."
Harold: "Hmm."
Jenna: "And your wife lives in the city?"
Man: "Sure does. Wife and four kids. Hard to keep all those mouths fed in today's economy."
Harold: "But selling jewelry does the trick?"
Man: "It's all in finding the right buyers and supplying the right jewels. It's...it's stressful work, but a man does what he has to do."
Radio broadcaster: "...The Gingham County Sheriff's department has requested that we ask you all to be on the lookout for a few individuals. There have been a string of robberies in the area, and several homes have been broken into. Most houses robbed have been from the Clivington area. If you live in this neighborhood please keep your doors and windows locked and be on the watch for any suspicious activity.'
Harold: "That's a real shame."
Jenna: "Doesn't Elaine Hughes live in Clivington?"
Harold: "Yes, that's right,"
Man: "Uh, follow the road here where it turns left,"
Harold: "You sure we don't keep going straight?"
Man: "I'm sure. Turn left."
Radio broadcaster: "...There have also been reported robberies in the Grover Hills community. Residents have spotted a male in his late thirties, wearing a black overcoat wandering around the neighborhood. Once again, please be wary of suspicious activity, and report any at once to the Gingham County Police Department."
Jenna: "Grover Hills, huh? Strange to think of anything bad happening to those people."
Harold: "Spoiled bunch, in big houses."
Man: "Serves them right, don't you think, for flaunting their wealth that way?'
Jenna: "Well, I don't know about that."
Man: "Don't you now?"
Harold: "Do I keep going straight on this road?"
Man: "No, turn right, just up ahead."
Harold: "By the corn field?"
Man: "That's right."
Harold: "Here?"
Man: "Here."
Jenna: "Are you sure this is the right way?"
Man: "Certain. You mind if I remove my coat? I'm dripping wet."
Jenna: "Of course not."
Harold: "Set it on the floor though, I'd rather it didn't drip on the seats."
Man: "Sure thing."
*slight clinking sound*
Jenna: "What was--Harold look out! There's a deer in the road!"
*tires screech, man and Jenna exclaim, clinking*
Man: *cusses mildly*
Jenna: *breathing heavy* "We didn't hit it."
Man: "Could you slow down a little? When we swerved my merchandise fell out of my pockets, it's awfully dark back here, and I'd really rather none of it got damaged."
Jenna: "Oh let me help you."
Man: "That's not necessary."
*seatbelt unbuckling, sound of hands running over carpet*
Jenna: "I insist."
Man: "No, it's--"
Jenna: "My, what lovely necklaces. Mind if I take a look at them for just a moment?"
Man: "Those necklaces aren't for sale! That is, they've already been purchased, I'm just, uh, on my way to deliver them, so --"
Jenna: "That's quite alright. No harm in looking. Oh this one's lovely. Look at how nicely the stone is cut, Harold."
Harold: "I'm driving, Jenna."
Jenna: "Oh, and this one. The chain is exquisite! And...my. My this looks just like Elaine Hughes necklace. Yes, it looks just like it. It looks just like the one her brother made for her when we graduated, he made one for Elaine and for Alice and for me. Doesn't this look like the necklace?"
Man: "That's quite enough, now, I think."
Jenna: "Don't you think Harold?"
Harold: "It does look a lot like your necklace dear."
Jenna: "It does. It looks just like my necklace! It is my necklace! It's Elaine's necklace! You're the robber!"
Man: "Aw c'mon now lady, just because it looks similar does not mean--"
Jenna: "It looks more than similar! It's Elaine's necklace! Our necklaces were all just the same except the little charm by the clasp with our initials on it, and there the initials are EH!"
Harold: "Jenna..."
Man: "Alright lady. You caught me. Looks like this isn't going to be easy after all."
Harold: "Now look here, mister"
Jenna: "Harold. He's got a knife."
I think I'll finish this tomorrow. :) Yes yes. Or I'll just leave it for a bit. Because I wrote a lot tonight and now I'm exhausted. See? It's in true Suspense fashion.  This is the break in the middle where they advertise. Normally about car batteries. :) 

Friendly Execution

Time to write!

You’re in an unfamiliar situation. People you know are there, though they are all acting strange. As the scene moves on, it becomes clear that you’re about to be executed by friends and you have no idea why. Find out why and attempt to save yourself.

I feel as though this prompt is EXCEEDINGLY creepy.

It was certainly a very odd Halloween party. Betty had invited me, and assured me that "everyone" would be there. Rian had backed her up on that, claiming that if I didn't go I'd "regret it for the rest of the century." 

So I went. I'd dressed as Batman, according to plan. I'd matched my Batman hoodie, complete with mask and utility belt, with some black skinny jeans, buckled boots, and a black cape I'd originally worn when dressing up as a witch in my freshman year of High School.

The first thing I noticed upon entering the party was a giant gallows in the corner. It seemed a bit morbid. I mean, sure, it was Halloween, but what was next? A guillotine? The second thing I noticed was that all of my friends were dressed as one of three things. There were the pirates- Rian, Kaitlin, Aubrey, Alison, and about half of the guys there. Then there were the fairies- Sarah, Betty, Whitney, Lauren, Alyssa and surprisingly all the rest of the boys. My brothers, I noticed, were even in attendance and were, all three, dressed as fairies. Complete with wings. Perplexing as all this was, even stranger still was the last costume. It was a dalek costume. Almost cylindrical, bronze, and shiny. There were variations, of course, from costume to costume, but I felt like I'd missed out on the part of the invitation where they mentioned the theme. 

Sarah came fluttering- fairy as she was- over to me, waving her arms to make the fabric attached to her wrists fly out behind her.
"I'm so glad you could make it!" she exclaimed.

"Me too," I answered, although at this point it wasn't quite the truthful answer. I was more confused than anything else. 

Suddenly I was pricked by the plastic tips of four cheaply constructed swords. The Pirates were greeting me, which was now apparently done by sword tip.

Honestly...much as I'd like to finish out this BIZARRE prompt....I got only about three hours of sleep last night and it's late and I'm dying a little so...I'll finish it tomorrow and do my authentic thang. Deal? Ok. Goodnight. Loves. 

Dream Wedding

Time to write!

Tonight's post is inspired by two of my best friends, who are incidentally some of the best supporters of my writing that I know. Hope it makes you guys laugh. :)

Bettilda pulled back her covers just a tad violently. "I want to get married!" she grumbled. "Like for real."
"Then do it," said her imaginary roommate. Her imaginary roommate was named Nike, because she was always encouraging Bettilda to do things. Without Nike, Bettilda would not feel nearly so encouraged, eb'ry day.
"Ok," Bettilda said, climbing into her bed and pulling her posse around her. Her posse was made up of entirely of bears, and was actually just two members large.
Generally  Blueberry was the master planner. He helped Bettilda with the logistics of all of her maneuvers. Why only half an hour ago he had planned a successful reconnaissance mission to the vending machines. He was a master planner, which is one of the reasons Bettilda kept him around. The other reasons were secrets, and ones that you couldn't find out if you were human.
Her other posse member, B. YGregalious  Uffenfuzzworth, said with a silent 'y' and commonly known as BYU Bear, mostly just sat there and smiled. Most of the time Bettilda was sure that BYU Bear couldn't talk, but Nike insisted that he oft times quoted speeches in the midst of the nighttime when the stars shone through the drawn blinds, the way that only magic stars could.
Nike had a way of speaking that made such things sound poetic.
"I want to get married," Bettilda repeated to her posse.
"Excellent idea," Generally Blueberry asserted.
B. YGregalious smiled.
"I has a plan!" Nike cried, springing in one leap from her imaginary bed on the other side of the room to Bettilda's bed and landing square in her lap.
For some people such proximity would have been awkward, but Nike was a snuggler and it was just something Bettilda was used to.
"Speak to me," Bettilda said, patting Nike on the head.
"Let's go find a man, and then you will get married."
Bettilda loved this idea so much she hopped out of bed and did some hip hopping dance moves. Nike clapped her hands enthusiastically. General Blueberry covered the young BYU Bear's eyes, thinking he was not quite ready for such a display of celebration.
Once her dancing was complete, Bettilda asked General Blueberry what the next step should be. They had an objective, now it was time to move, move, move!

Precisely three hours and twenty-six minutes later, at 1:23 am, Bettilda climbed a tree.
"Gib me a boost!" she whispered to Nike.
"On it!" Nike cupped her imaginary hands underneath Bettilda's foot, and couldn't help but notice that Bettilda was wearing some very fine imaginary footwear.
"Um. Bettilda?" Nike said. "Are you wearing my green and brown flip flops from my imaginary aunt?"
"Yes. I lub them." Bettilda replied.
Her straightforward honesty touched Nike to the very inner being of what could be described as her heart and she shed three single tears of pure emotion as she boosted Bettilda in the tree. This was ideal, for from Nike's tears of emotion sprouted a dress, a wedding cake, and a little man named Horatio, who was actually the best wedding hair dresser in all the world.

Bettilda moaned. In order for their plan to work she would need to moan loud enough that one of the boys would open up their window and see her laying in the tree. She was about to give up, when at 2:34 a window opened and a return missionary with caring eyes and excellent skin peered out.

In moments he had rescued Bettilda from the tree.
"Are you ok?" he asked.
"Yes. And guess what?" Bettilda said.
"What?"
"I have all these things to get married. Right here. Want to?"
"That'd be fine," the boy replied. "You just need to call Breanna first. She deserves to be at your wedding, don't you think?"
It was just then that Bettilda noticed the boy was actually pretty much Mr. Darcy.
She was delighted.