We’re nearly at the end of another week. As it’s Thursday, it’s time for a new story challenge:
Can you tell a story in 43 words? You must use the following words somewhere in the story:
- SHAKESPEARE
- WATERMELON
- SHRINK
- KNUCKLES
- MONKEY
Last week’s prompt was to tell a story in 30 words using the following words in it somewhere:
- ROUNDABOUT
- TROUSERS
- EQUATION
- BEARD
Here are your hilarious stories:
Nicola Daly:
The maths professor who sets the equations has a long, flowing beard, wears voluminous, florescent trousers, and watches the Magic Roundabout – and you wonder why I’m so rubbish at algebra?
Driving through the roundabout, he tugged at his beard, working out the equation in his head. He snagged his trousers upon exiting the car and made his way to class.
Roscoe combed his beard, shook the wrinkles out of his trousers, and headed out to his car. He entered the roundabout and thought about his answer to the day’s equation.
Murray Clarke:
Esther and friends: In a bizarre, roundabout kind of a way, me wearing these outrageously bright yellow trousers and sporting a long grey beard, don’t really come into the equation.
In a roundabout way the equation was easy explained the scientist. Follow the trouser leg theory of time dividing the continuum, but don’t get entangled in the quantum beard conundrum!
You’re never getting trousers to fit with a beard that long! You’re going to be tucking it in some roundabout way, but I’m telling you it’s not a possible equation.
Squirreljan:
“Getting your beard caught in your trousers zip plus navigating a roundabout the wrong way equals agony.” Professor Mishap physically demonstrated his equation to howls of laughter from the students.
I adjusted my trousers and twiddled my beard; I wished I’d studied maths. An equation? It was all Dutch to me, like going round a roundabout with no way out.
Going in circles for ages, sweat dripping from his beard. The fault of the roundabout, his nemesis! The travel time equation screwed. Getting his trousers from the tailor wasn’t happening.
My husband insists on wearing baggy trousers and sports a chinstrap beard. A question of dress code came into the equation in a roundabout way whilst attending a Masonic dinner.
Sharron P:
“It’ll never work,” the professor said to his student, stroking his long beard, “a triangle-shaped roundabout? If you get that to work, I’ll wear florescent pink trousers for a week.”
***
Esther Chilton 
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