It seems we’re actually starting to have a summer here in the UK. I hope it’s sunny with you wherever you are. Here’s your new story challenge:
Can you tell a story in 55 words using the following words in it somewhere:
- WHEEL
- CRUEL
- SOAK
- LABYRINTH
- YELLOW
- CRAB
Last week’s challenge was to write a story in 45 words using the following words in it somewhere:
- DOODLE
- TEMPER
- GIN
- WART
- RUBY
Here are your very funny stories:
The swarthy man looked like trouble; his ginger labradoodle, on the other hand, seemed a sweetie.
How wrong were we? The one that had a hot and cold temper was RubyRubyDu the Labradoodle; and Fagin, his owner, was beginning to lose any temperature control whatsoever.
My art teacher, Mrs Van der Vaart,
was a spectacle herself
with a big brown wart
which hung under her ruby lips.
She was known as a drinker
who liked her gin.
She lost her temper
when I made a doodle
of her warted chin.
Nicola Daly:
Whatever you do, don’t pass out at the Gin Palace. If Ruby’s there she’ll steal all your clothes. Did it to me once. Put my wife in a right temper when I arrived home with no clothes and warts doodled in every nook and cranny.
Ruby wandered over to my place at the bar. Smelling like gin and her nose wart in place she asks for a light. Blowing smoke in my face she asks, “You still got that temper?” No reply from me while returning to my bar napkin doodle.
Kate in Cornwall:
That ‘post-modern exploration of the depravity of man’ that sold for £10k? It was actually my granddaughter Ruby’s post-temper tantrum doodle of Granny’s hairy wart (not mine, her other Grandma’s). I’d had a drop of gin and sent the wrong painting to the gallery. Ooops.
Surviving on the forgiveness of others, Ruby, unlovingly called the Wart, began a doodle on the napkin supporting his gin. That didn’t quite hide the temper tantrum in his head.
He wanted so much to see the light, but wouldn’t leave the bar.
The cigarette smoke made doodles as I downed my gin.
“Come in.”
The dame wasn’t pretty, the wart on her nose bigger than her huge temper. Though black and white, I swear she was green.
“Some brat stole my ruby slippers.”
I took the case.
In a smoky bar, Ruby nursed her gin, drawing hearts on a napkin. A man with a wart and a temper slammed her table. “Give me that doodle,” he growled. She smiled sweetly, slid the sketch over, and whispered, “Only if you can handle heartbreak.”
The doctor drew a little doodle of how he’d remove Ellen’s wart. She tried to temper her nervous system with a nip of gin before the procedure.
After the procedure, Ellen went to the jewelry store to have the stone tightened in her ruby ring.
Joe’s upset mother wanted an explanation, seeing her son showing off his gross arm. “It’s not a wart, it’s just a doodle Ruby drew on me. I think you’ve drunk too much gin! Now, calm that temper of yours…see? I can wash it right off.”
Ruby nursed her gin, tracing a doodle on the napkin. Her temper flared as she spotted the wart on his chin—her ex, grinning. With a sigh, she toasted solitude, letting the bar’s laughter swallow her regrets. Tonight, she chose her own company.
Another day networking online
Disappointed with my temper again
I need a gin and tonic
An address doodled on paper
I stay until the break of day
Enjoying drink and chronic
Tracy plays blues guitar
Bending the strings tonight
Her wart making it sound demonic
The feisty Labradoodle they called Ruby, had some crazy temper. Most blamed the wart protruding from her butt as the root of the problem. In reality, it was the lack of competent bartenders at the local pub who never stocked her favorite brand of gin.
The doctors did nothing to relieve Ruby’s wart problem. She felt like a toad as they covered her entire body. In a fit of temper, she drew a doodle of herself and downing a gin, set fire to it. Next day, they were all gone.
A woman with ruby hair walked into the bar, ordered a gin martini and grabbed the bartender’s hand. She doodled a heart around a wart on his finger and he yanked his hand away. “Watch out, honey, I got a temper,” she said.
When Ruby got into a temper she would drink gin and ginger ale. She also used to soak her finger in the glass to try and dissolve her warts. Then she would doodle and paint using the leftover gin as a painting medium. Very odd!
Murray Clarke:
Bertie, an adorable Cockapoo with an even temper, is a doodle dog – his father a Spaniel, and his mother a poodle. On the end of his nose there’s a wart as red as a ruby – the result of consuming too much of his Master’s gin.
Sanny M:
John loved to doodle flowers
Ruby petals in beautiful showers
The wart on his nose
With the gin how it grows
Then his temper would last for hours
‘Freddie, stop that doodling’, scolded Miss Lane, sounding like she’d been on the gin again.
Ruby, sitting next to him, who had a huge wart on her thumb, was really annoying.
Freddie had a terrible temper.
Thwack went his ruler down on Ruby’s thumb.
‘Freddie!’
Squirreljan:
I sip a ruby gin cocktail, doodle in my notebook, and slowly control my temper. How dare that old wart-faced bitch say I can’t take my class on a school trip because I drink. I mean, she smokes weed. The ‘one rule’ rule rules again.
Tony:
In the language of Shakespeare :
Ruby, with a volcanic temperament, drank gin scribbling an incomprehensible doodle. Her therapist said that every word was a wart of the soul. She laughed. She wrote to survive, and every crooked line on the page was a truth that could not be censored.
In the language of Molière, now :
Ruby, au tempérament volcanique, buvait du gin en griffonnant un gribouillage incompréhensible. Son psy disait que chaque mot était une verrue de l’âme. Elle riait. Elle écrivait pour survivre, et chaque trait tordu sur la page était une vérité qu’on ne pouvait censurer.
He twisted the ruby ring around on his little finger, then angrily drew a doodle on the letter in front of him. His temper was rising, his face becoming purple, the wart on his chin stood out like a beacon. He reached for the gin.
Glasses resting against the wart at the end of his nose, his temper bubbled. Hand shaking, gin sloshed out of the tumbler. His apprentice assumed the doodle drawings were the instructions to cut the ruby. Two careers ruined. The empty glass flew across the room.
Ruby sipped gin under the moonlight, doodling stars in her journal. Her temper flared when a stranger mocked her wart, mistaking it for weakness. With a glare and a grin, she whispered a curse—by dawn, he was drawing stars too, unable to stop.
Wart offered his gin
Expecting they’d welcome him in.
It was December
They were in a temper
The gin ended up in the bin
Wart decided to doodle
Because it helped him canoodle.
Ruby, the dog,
Said, “Such a hog!
Draw me, a beautiful poodle.”
During her interview, Ruby became fixated by the wart on the manager, Gin Gersnap’s nose. The CEO, Mr Gordons, had a foul temper, asking entirely inappropriate questions.
“Enough,” said Ruby. “I don’t like Gordons, Gin, and I don’t want to work at Doodle Days. Goodbye.”
Ruby was a beautiful young woman except for a big wart on her forehead. Her temper flared whenever people teased. She’d doodle happy faces and flowers to distract herself. Now she’s on a quest to find shaman Gin Lee to rid her of this blight.
***
Esther Chilton 
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