Saturday Wordzzle # 49

The idea is, every week Raven (View From Raven's Nest) gives you between 8 and 10 words/phrases and you have to create a small but coherent paragraph using every one of them and the same with the mini challenge. You can do either, both or a megawordzzle using all the words, or even all three, it's up to you, you can post them on your blog or email them to Raven. If you join in go to Raven's and put your name on the Mr. Linky so other participants can come visit you.

Here's my efforts complete with my doodles.

This week's 10 Word Challenge: author, Wall Street, rage, lemons, channel changer, cookies and milk, candelabra, Pine Cone Motel, illusory, fluffer-doodle

The Pine Cone Motel on Wall Street, Bristol, was an old fashioned place, it had candelabra on the reception desk but pandered to public demand by installing a television with the obligatory channel changer in the lounge. Most of the guests at the hotel were elderly people, who still enjoyed cookies and milk in an afternoon or the lemonade made by the chef from the lemons growing on the tree in the garden. Then Max arrived, an author of some distinction, he gave the illusory notion that he was filled with rage whereas, in reality, he was just like the other guests, old, lonely and prone to fluffer-doodles, which smelt sometimes. He soon settled in.




And the mini challenge: war, wooden shoes, flabbergast, chimera, vodka martini

Chimera was flabbergasted when her agent told her that her first assignment was modelling wooden shoes in some far off war torn country. Now here she was sipping a vodka martini in the bowels of a troop plane!


Megawordzzle

Sipping his vodka martini Arthur tried to calm down. The drive home had been fraught and it had shaken him when the man in the sports car had demonstrated such road-rage over something and nothing.

Picking up the channel changer he flipped over to the news channel and was surprised to see ‘Chimera’ on the news, apparently it had gone into liquidation. Arthur quickly scanned the share prices in the Wall Street Journal, he’d sunk all his savings into the firm and now it looked like they were going under. The shock caused him to pass wind, (though he still called it a fluffer-doodle, as his mother had taught him), he was about to lose everything!

Looking round the home he was so proud of, he envisaged having to sell the beautiful antiques, like the solid gold candelabra, he’d acquired. He had a reasonable income from the royalties on his books, he was a published author of war stories, but it wasn’t enough to keep him in the manner he’d become accustomed to without his dividends from Chimera. There was only one thing to do.

It would be like sucking lemons giving up martinis for cookies and milk, and it would flabbergast people when they found out, but times were hard. His success as a writer gave a total illusory picture of his poor beginnings. He would have to sell the house and move into The Pine Cone Motel. Going to the wardrobe he dug out his wooden shoes and telephoned his agent.

“I need to come back to work” said Arthur “I’m ready to go back on stage again, clog dancing!”