I hope you’re having a good week so far. It’s now time for a new story challenge:
Can you tell a story in 19 words? You must use the following words somewhere in the story:
- GOALKEEPER
- PARADISE
- KITCHEN
Last week’s prompt was to tell a story in 43 words using the following words in it somewhere:
- SHAKESPEARE
- WATERMELON
- SHRINK
- KNUCKLES
- MONKEY
Here are your fabulous stories:
Nicola Daly:
Exam question: Who was William Shakespeare and why was he famous?
The student cracked his knuckles and wrote: ‘Shakespeare woz this bloke wot had a pet monkey. I fink he woz famous ‘cos he also rote a play about a watermelon wot shrink-ed.’
Shakespeare held the pen so tight the whites of his knuckles stood out. He looked at his shrink. ‘Are you twisting my watermelon, man?’ he asked.
The shrink shook his head. ‘You should write “A monkey, a monkey, my kingdom for a monkey!”’
Decisions. Jennifer Grey carrying a watermelon or Kenneth Branagh in Shakespeare’s Macbeth? Not much difference! I’m cracking my knuckles deciding what to watch.
Do I need a shrink?
I’ve decided.
I fetch the monkey nuts and sit down to swoon over Patrick Swayze.
A monkey is happily scraping his knuckles along the jungle floor until man stands tall and quotes Shakespeare, watching as the jungle shrinks to nothing but space to grow watermelons for rich people on another continent.
We look away and call it evolution.
I hate reading Shakespeare, boring! I put the book down and pick up a slice of watermelon, my new diet to hopefully shrink my belly and butt. I crack my knuckles as my anxiety increases as I watch the monkey climb the tree.
Chris Page:
How is a watermelon harvested? Well, my friend Jane Shakespeare has worked in the fields for years doing just that. But being bent over to cut the crop has caused her to shrink and now her knuckles look like those of a monkey.
I’m sure Shakespeare would have been more eloquent, but I heard it verbatim from a monkey’s uncle. He was trying to shrink and soften worn knuckles using a watermelon rind potion. Apparently he started dating a young woman who loved to hold hands.
“No!” The director yelled, making him feel like a monkey on a chain, rather than Shakespeare. If only he could shrink away to the refreshment room for some watermelon.
Sighing, he cracked his knuckles. Striding to centre stage he bellowed, “Et tu, Brute.”
Shakespeare the monkey cracked his knuckles ominously. The shrink wrapped watermelon quivered in fright. It had been a strange day and it didn’t know if it would be pulped before the night was out?
An unusual dream I know, I awoke in terror!
Squirreljan:
Borel, the chief monkey, wrapped his knuckles on the desk. “Get typing,” he screeched, spitting bits of watermelon everywhere and watching Rosencrantz and Guildenstern shrink back in fear. “Though this be madness, I want the whole of Shakespeare’s Hamlet typed out by tonight.”
Carol Miers:
“Watermelon sugar high,” Harry Styles’ song video on the brain all summer.
“Not exactly Shakespeare is it ?”
“Little monkeys if you ask me.”
“Wrap their knuckles.”
“Don’t shrink from it.”
“Sandy skin, shameless hussies. Send them off in an inflatable I say.”
Sharron P:
“Have you listened to The Infinite Monkey Cage on the radio?” Steve asked in between mouthfuls of watermelon.
“Yes, but it’s no Shakespeare. Science, for heaven’s sake! Pah! All that stuff about the atmosphere shrinking. Load of rubbish,” Don replied, cracking his knuckles.
***
Esther Chilton 
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