Weekend Quickie #214

Weekend Quickie #214

Saturday, January 14, 2017

One Image, One Prompt, One Emotion

200 Words

17.31528° N, -87.53444° E



4 thoughts on “Weekend Quickie #214

  1. “Your mission, Stormtroopers, will be to infiltrate an area 17.31528° N, -87.53444° E, and to wipe out all life forms that exist.”
    The platoon leader looked around the breakroom, “How did that sound? Was it too technical?”
    “Naw. You got it just right.”
    “Should I practice one more time?”
    The response was too fast, “No! Absolutely not! You might start to sound practiced or something.”
    The leaders were waiting for their uniforms to suit them, and then it was off to face the squadron. This was their only time to relax, get something to drink, and ignore the tension of getting a team of just-off-the back planet newbies while trying to control their small part of the empire. The twelve-day shifts were killers, but after all, do this one command well, and next thing you might be assigned to a death star.
    They were, frankly, getting on each other’s nerves. The ineluctability of the upcoming war was starting to weigh on everyone. All the more reason for the squad leaders to stay on top of their game, to never appear except in perfect uniform, to maintain complete control, to never let anything slip.

  2. “Look, teabag,” said John.
    “Are you referring to me?” said Dave.
    “You were the one who said if I couldn’t get the kegs off that bird last night, we’d have to spend today in only our underpants and Stormtrooper helmets. You helmet,” replied John. “And complete and utter teabag.”
    “A bet is a bet. Ineluctability, my dear Watson.The repercussions cannot be escaped or avoided.” Dave checked the milk carton sitting on the kitchen table. “This carton is deeper than the Great Blue Hole. And by the smell of it, more dangerous, too.”
    “Great Blue Hole? Are you talking about the time when someone tipped over that portable toilet you were in?” laughed John. “Which festival was it again?”
    “Sziget. No, not that, I’m talking about 17.31528 degrees North, minus 87.53444 degrees East, the Great Blue Hole just off the coast of Belize.” Dave shoved his Stormtrooper helmet into the milk carton and did his best Darth Vader impression. “Luke, I am your father!”
    “He never really said that, you know,” said John.
    “May the Force be with you!” said Dave, bringing his head up, the milk carton still stuck to his helmet.
    “Better that one than the other,” laughed John.

  3. The Flop
    Sean Bracken

    Bimbo Hemp and his best friend Josh Chambers shrugged themselves out of their costumes. The director had called a short break in filming. Enough time to for a Coke and a chat.

    “Feels good to be outta those costumes, Josh. I musta lost a stone weight today,”

    “I feel your pain brother, I came close to passing out. Someone should say something about the heat. It’s unbearable,” replied Josh. “It’s all for nothing, anyway”

    “Why so, Josh?”

    “Bloody Star Wars, Bimbo. Sci-Fi died out with the dinosaurs. Straight to Beta-Max. I’m tellin ye, flop written all over it.”

    “Guess you’re right there, Josh. It’s inevitable, no avoiding it, thrillers are all the rage now. Pity, though, I kinda liked that Star Trek series and that got pulled early.”

    “Where to after this gig? Anything good lined up for us?” asked Bimbo, swilling down his Coke.

    “Adventure pal, adventure. We’re off to Belize, boy. Diving with a Jacques Cousteau in the Great Blue Hole, a massive deep sea cavern. We’ll be on the other end of the camera, filming the dive teams,” said Josh, his voice distorted by his helmet as both men donned their plastic costumes and walked back on set.

  4. Chillin’ Like a Villain

    “We found them, Sir!” The Sargent at arms saluted Darth Vader “Where are they?” Darth snapped. “On earth, sir, at coordinates 17.31528 degree north by – 87.53444 degrees east, sir. They seem to have rented an apartment, off the coast of Belize … South America, on the Caribbean, sea, near the blue hole, sir.” Darth turned angry, “I know where the Caribbean sea is, Sargent!” Raising his good hand, Darth strained and contorted his fingers as he rallied the force to his command, The Sargent at arms clasped at his throat, and gasped for air until he turned blue himself. Releasing the Sargent, Darth commanded him, “I suggest you go and get them, then!?” The Sargent swallowed hard as he screwed up an audacious courage to respond,”Well, sir, we tried that, but the security contingent disappeared. The two storm troopers say you need to come down there yourself, sir.” Darth stood so still the Sargent wet himself. Darth asserted, “If that’s the way they want it.” then he turned and strode away.

    It was two weeks later, when no one had heard from Darth, that a video call came online. Darth and all the others were standing around a barbeque in their BVD’s, guzzling beers to pulsing beat of “Girls Just Wanna Have Fun.” A helmet-less, Darth blurted, “Shore leave for everybody! Come on down, Y’all. The water’s fine!”

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