Here’s your new Thursday story challenge:
Can you tell a story in 77 words using the following words in it somewhere:
- WISHY-WASHY
- MARSHMALLOW
- IMPOUND
- EAGLE
- VIOLIN
- BALCONY
- ROSTER
Last week’s challenge was to write a story in 46 words using the following four words in it somewhere:
- PORTAL
- DROOL
- SLIPPERS
- MARKSMAN
Here are your excellent stories:
Nicola Daly:
‘Wipe the drool from your face, Mother.’
‘It’s seeing that hunky marksman.’
‘Are you still wearing your slippers? This always happens when you come through the portal wearing them. We’re meant to blend in with the locals.’
‘Stop your nagging. Have you seen his neck? Yum.’
Rall:
he drooled
when he saw the
slippers in the portal
brought back memories
of that soft leopard skin
he loved so much
the feeling one experienced
having just shot one
as a top marksman
that’s the trouble with city life
you don’t get to kill things
It was freezing. I’d just confirmed what my wife had told me about sleepwalking. I was out in the cold, thankfully with pyjamas and slippers, before some huge oak portal. I opened it, and found a marksman with a rifle and a dog with a drool.
The Warmark’s marksman waited atop the flat roof, casual attire mode: slippers, dressing gown, silken foulard scarf draped loosely around the neck.
Lord Drool emerged from the portal, the staff clutched closely to its gangly body.
–
Stephen R. Donaldson crumpled up the page, and started again.
Bombs Away
Daddy had fun potty training his son, using colorful donut shaped cereal in the toilet to teach him how to become an expert marksman! The son would laugh uproariously while watching the cereal sink. But It was even funnier watching their poodle, portal, drool into the baby’s slippers as the cereal was flushed away.
The marksman’s hands trembled as he aimed at the swirling portal. A low growl echoed, followed by drool dripping from ravenous zombie mouths. He backed away, only to trip over a pair of fuzzy slippers. The last thing he saw the oncome zombie hoard.
Fred, once a decorated marksman, now shuffled through the house in worn slippers, muttering to himself, drool dipping from his chin.
One morning, he opened his bedroom door and saw a portal to beautiful world. Without hesitation, he eagerly stepped into it.
Rest in Peace, Fred.
The portal opened and he entered.
The floor was a pool of drool from the caged animals therein and his surgical slippers proved useless protecting his boots.
He felt foolish, a top marksman in his day now on sedation duty giving these beasts their annual shots.
One day, while walking home from school
I saw a portal on the street
In front of it, a puddle of drool
On the puddle — slippers without feet!
“Did a monster just eat the princess?” I asked.
“No,” said the marksman, and aimed at me!
Murray Clarke:
The medieval stone portal was certainly impressive with its ornate crests and coat of arms. Sir Lancelot felt himself drool – the saliva running from his mouth onto his slippers. Attempting to climb up to the battlements, he sensed a marksman’s red laser dot on his armour.
An Inside Job, an Act of Betrayal
He woke up, put on his slippers and stares at himself in the mirror. Enamored by his own beauty or just mentally incompetent, he grins and begins to drool.
The marksman for hire, loads his silencer uses the spell to enter the portal, aims and fires.
Pete:
I may not be a great marksman, but I once shot an ocelot in my slippers and pajamas. How that cat got into my pajamas I’ll never know. But the story always made Captain Spaulding drool when he entered through his stolen Groucho Marx joke portal.
The Pandorica Dog
The Roman marksman who guarded the portal leading to his insensate love stood in silence for 2000 years. He guarded her well until the day a bulldog stepped out of the shadows, two well chewed slippers in his mouth, covered in drool. Who sent the dog?
The Marksman had rushed out in his slippers to try and shoot the Monster. It had come through the time portal moments before. Drooling and slavering, it rushed forward, but it was no match for the blunderbuss. The end of Frankensteins monster was no longer alive!
Mission Accomplished
The portal flashed open with the cherub’s mission.
Lonely man too shy for love.
Cupid drools a little, every…single… time his expert marksmanship inspires passion.
Ken jolts from bed, kicks aside his slippers, and grabs his phone.
“Maria? Ken here. After work, might we have dinner together?”
Padding to the computer in my slippers and jammies, wiping the night drool on my sleeve, the intent is to visit my cardiologist patient portal. After ten hours of Call To Duty the marksman badge is mine. The portal forgotten.
Cosmic Treats
A marksman in slippers took his aim
At a portal of goodies, quite the cosmic game
He shot for a cookie and then started to drool
But his aim went awry, oh he felt such a fool
His kitchen’s in chaos and so he retreats
Cause he missed both his aim and all the treats!
I used to be a marksman in the Army. You’d never know it looking at me now. I sit in my wheelchair, drool on my chin and slippers on my feet, yet my brain young. I approach the portal, ready to be sent backward in time.
The marksman started to drool thinking of the slippers and reward after ridding the world of this interloper. The ruby slippers were rightfully his and he had caught this crook on video stealing them. Lining up the criminal’s head in the portal, gleefully pulled the trigger.
Skilled
What better way to travel to wonderland than to take the portal hidden in the library downtown. I drooled over the thought and how that would save time and money. I packed my adventurer backpack and included my warmest slippers. Am I a marksman or what!
A sleepy marksman stumbled through his cottage, drool on his chin, searching for his slippers. But when he slipped them on, a portal shimmered open beneath his feet. With a startled yelp, he tumbled through—rifle clattering—into a world where targets shot back.
Matchmaker
Harold, the commoner, loved the princess so much – from her crown to her royal slippers – he could almost drool! The princess wasn’t interested. Serendipitously, a wee marksman flew through a magic portal and jabbed the princess with love arrows. She fell madly in love with Harold!
Waking, he wiped the drool from his beard. It had been weeks since he’d left the portal to his hometown. As leader of the hunters and foragers he seldom enjoyed an inviting hearth or slippers. It was the price one paid for being an exceptional marksman.
time travel
i did so open to unravel
the portal
i fool i did sweat and drool
the change of the season
was the gist of the reason
no slippers just socks
and such it is as was were
***
Esther Chilton 
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