Hello, everyone. Your new Thursday story challenge is here:
Can you tell a story in 38 words using the following words in it somewhere:
- ALGORITHM
- WAXWORK
- RAZZLE-DAZZLE
- ELICIT
Last week’s challenge was to write a story in 61 words using the following six words in it somewhere:
- PALATIAL
- VOLLEYBALL
- GRAVY
- ORCHID
- JIGSAW
- PRUNE
Here are your brilliant stories:
The palatial walls of the Duncan castle where covered with ivy, roses and orchids. The kitchen was full of squeaks from the mice that inhabited it. Sandy watched her children and grandchildren play volleyball out in the yard.
The cook was making turkey, mashed potatoes, and gravy for dinner and Grandpa was putting together a jigsaw puzzle, his favorite pastime now.
I’m not saying her apartment is big. Really, I’m not, it’s huge. I’d go as far as to say palatial.
I dunno about a game of football but we had a game of volleyball in the dining room.
That was until Susan slipped on some gravy, let out a squeak and broke Susan’s prized orchid. We did the jigsaw after that.
Pete:
The squeak of sneakers echoed from the palatial volleyball court, causing ripples in His Nibs gravy boat. The feast was commencing. Most of that viscous lumpy brown swill had not yet splattered His Grotesquerie’s person as it soon would. He was fumbling over the jigsaw puzzle of specialty silverware when the servant with the wrist orchid put the matter to rest.
Ralph’s palatial home overlooked an orchid filled with juicy red apples. The jigsaw shop was situated in that setting. From there Ole Ralph would make puzzles and occasionally squeak a nip of Bushmells to keep away the cold. He sold his puzzles at a decent price, and what he took in was all gravy since the apple trees were his raw material.
“It’s beautiful outside,” Mrs. Brown told her sons. “Go practice volleying while you can.”
The volleyball bounded into the neighbor’s palatial gardens, landing behind the orchids. Mrs. Green let out a squeak when her jigsaw puzzle shuddered. The ball came to a stop, jolting the table legs.
“Good gravy, can’t those boys keep their ball in their own yards?” she muttered.
Nicola Daly:
We snuck into Orchid House, still palatial with its fancy balustrades, ornate plaster and an entrance hall large enough to play volleyball. Now bare wires hung from ceilings, the floors were criss-crossed with a jigsaw of cracks, and gravy-coloured stains ran down the walls. A shutter, hanging from one hinge, squeaked and creaked in the breeze. TAP. TAP. TAP. Footsteps? What…?
‘Orchids’ the very valuable, and once lost, painting by Van Gogh, was so large that it really needed a palatial setting.
£17.99 for a 10,000 piece jigsaw of it was about all your average Joe could afford.
When the gravy boat had sailed, Pip, Squeak, and Wilfred cheered, and Squeak was heard to say, ‘£17.99, that’s a very volleyball jigglesaw indeed!’
It was the annual palatial garden party, and they decided to hold an under-ten volleyball match on the West lawn.
Due to a misprint, West read as East and the orchids were destroyed.
A jigsaw of the palace was a raffle prize, and the Mayoress let out a squeak of surprise when gravy from a pork roll squirted on her dress.
Murray Clarke:
Lord Montague of Snodsbury resided in a palatial mansion set in fifty acres of rolling countryside. His main pastimes included playing volleyball, and doing jigsaw puzzles with his wife. A messy eater, he had gravy stains down his jumper. Lady Montague’s passion was growing orchids.
“I really do believe I love my flowers more than I love you, Henry!” she squeaked.
The palatial foyer echoed with a squeak as my nephew put the last jigsaw piece in place to complete the puzzle. He dashed outside to watch a vigorous game of volleyball that was underway on the lawn.
Inside, the tantalizing smell of roast turkey and gravy filled the air, a perfect match for the single, delicate orchid on the dining table.
I’m Billy From The Book Of SAW
I found myself naked with my hands shackled to the ceiling above a giant vat of boiling gravy. The squeek of a tricycle echos towards me on the floor of this palatial room. It’s Billy, dummy of the late serial killer Jigsaw. “Hello Dr. Charles, to your left a vollyball , to your right a vase of orchids, choose wisely or die!.”
Palatial Gravy Mayhem
In a palatial mansion, a volleyball game erupted in the dining hall. Someone spiked the ball, knocking over a tureen of gravy onto an orchid centerpiece. The butler slipped, producing a squeak like a rubber duck, and crashed into a jigsaw puzzle the countess had labored on for weeks. Everyone froze then roared with laughter at the absurd chaos, gravy dripping everywhere.
While eating smashed potatoes with gravy by herself in the school cafeteria, which was anything but palatial, she dreamed of a world of orchids and fairies.
A squeaking noise startled her. The volleyball team passed by in their black shorts and neon shoes.
Ah, to become one of the popular ones! Unfortunately she was only good at things like doing jigsaws.
“These palatial surroundings don’t come from playing volleyball,” she explained.
Gazing over the orchid garden I pieced together the jigsaw of her life. A single attractive young woman. A mysterious stream of income.
“It’s a gravy train,” she continued, “and, for tax purposes, a squeaky clean one.”
“OK,” I said, examining her body and the contents of my wallet, “how much?”
In the palatial old manor house the floors squeaked abominally. Maybe it was because the children of the squire used to play volleyball in the lounge, and always spilled gravy in the dining room. The Orchids were immense and needed very damp heat. In fact the house was a true jigsaw puzzle of faults, soon to be falling into deep decay.
attractive forces
floorboards squeak
our palatial bed
becomes the court
for our indoor game
of volleyball
gravy stains our lips
still, in the corners
of your smile
orchids bloom
we are impressive
in the way we fit together
like jigsaw pieces
our edges aligning
unique yet complementary
creating an entire picture
that is held by the gravity
of our own tenderness
“Here?” My friend squeaked when she saw the palatial garden come into view with tons of beautiful orchids. “What a wonderful place to meet,” she said.
We both looked over to the right at the same time and there was oddly a volleyball court area. “Interesting” This was gravy on top of the jigsaw puzzle we managed to finish earlier today.
As the volley ball bounced down the stairs, squeaking along the way, it entered the palatial dining room, hit a waiter’s foot causing him to fall and drop the vase and orchid, he had added to the tray of food, including the gravy boat, which broke into a jigsaw of shattered pieces. Then, along came the child, hollering “Stop that ball!”
Attending volleyball tournaments in the palatial building surrounded by garden plots built like a jigsaw, was a goal for teams everywhere.
Last year the Orchid Spikes had lost, missing out on a coveted prize—a meal of french fries, gravy, and squeak cheese on top.
The team bus stopped at the Poutine Palace. The girls cheered. This year they had won.
The volleyball facility was palatial, with six courts. The place was making gravy. Her granddaughter’s team played well, their shoes squeaking on the floors. People were seated on bleachers like jigsaw puzzle pieces, shoulder to shoulder.
Her granddaughter’s team won, so they went to The Orchid for dinner. Then they sat outside, watching the sunset. What a wonderful time!
The gate gave a squeak when we entering the volleyball park. We enjoyed the game and looked forward to chips, peas, and gravy in the palatial restaurant adjoining, where our table was decorated with an orchid. To our horror a couple were sat at our table, engrossed in finishing their jigsaw puzzle, after polishing off our plates of steak and chips.
In the palatial hall, laughter echoed as friends played makeshift volleyball with a balloon. A sudden squeak from the marble floor startled them, scattering their focus like pieces of a jigsaw. Someone spilled gravy on the silk rug, while an orchid vase tipped, shattering nearby. Yet they only laughed harder—chaos stitched into memory, imperfect but unforgettable joy.
Squirreljan:
She sat on the patio watching his sit-on lawnmower glide over the palatial green lawn before crashing into the volleyball net. As he squeaked his final breath, she slotted the last piece of her jigsaw into place.
He had destroyed her beloved orchid patch for this game, and now, after years hidden control, her gravy train had reached his final destination.
Finally, my 5,000 piece jigsaw puzzle is complete! The colorful image features a whimsical painting of a foursome of bunnies playing volleyball on a palatial lawn dotted with orchid blossoms. In the foreground is a river of gravy with a little mouse family happily diving in and out, dunking biscuits, making a gleeful squeak and having the time of their lives!
***
Esther Chilton 
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