Here’s your Thursday story challenge. Can you tell a story in 44 words using the following words in it somewhere:
- ADVERSARY
- WAFFLE
- QUIZ
- KISSOGRAM
The previous challenge was to write a story in 56 words using the following six words in it somewhere:
- RIFFRAFF
- AEROSOL
- WAG
- MANUSCRIPT
- BED
- TRIANGLE
Here are your great stories:
Nicola Daly:
I sent my manuscript to an agent.
Set in the Bermuda Triangle, it’s about this man who lies in bed all day. His wife calls him ‘layabout riffraff’. She kicks him out and squirts everywhere with aerosol to get rid of his stink and replaces him with a dog called Wag.
The verdict? Another rejection letter.
The Manuscript
Torres stepped deeper, boots crunching glass.
Against the back wall: a child’s bed, bare mattress. Above it, a triangle in fresh aerosol, dripping like a wound.
Beneath the mattress, a manuscript: her name, inked, again and again.
A stray dog nosed the doorway, tail giving one slow wag, oblivious.
First line: “Riffraff. That’s all they’ll send.”
Squirreljan:
“Down, Riffraff!”
The dog jumped off the bed wagging so much he knocked the deodorant aerosol over which smashed into the beautifully laid out triangle of perfume bottles on the dressing table. I knew I shouldn’t have left my manuscript out. It was now covered in wet blobs. But at least it and Riffraff smelled nice.
Lou By The Sea:
Play for Today
The Manchester Manuscript Challenge 2026 :- fit these words into our next play.
RIFFRAFF –
AEROSOL –
WAG –
MANUSCRIPT –
BED –
TRIANGLE
I scramble a vague plot together. A love triangle between Man U players and WAGS. Yes! Plenty of bed scenes . The riffraff in the supporters club will love it. The critics will aerosol abuse all over it though.
High Expectation
The editor wagged the ridiculous manuscript in the air and shouted, “What kind of riffraff is this?!” The title, “Make My Bed in the Bermuda Triangle”. “In what world is this a romantic comedy?!” The room was empty, and an aerosol plume was coming from the break area. “Okay, people! Your “pot vaping” days are over!” Fandango: The old writer chased riffraff from his porch, aerosol can hissing warnings into dusk. Ned went back inside and his dog began to wag its tail. Later, on Ned’s bed lay his unfinished manuscript, pages scattered like a triangle of moonlight. He sighed, gathered them gently, and figured that tomorrow he could possibly finish the chapter.
The Snooty Goat Writer
William Wag, was a goat who wore a monocle and a frown,
He calls all critics riffraff when he’s in town,
From bed he declared, ‘I write what I please!’
Then banged on a triangle to summon morning tea,
He picked up his manuscript with great intent,
But aerosol ink sprayed everywhere – on what a turbid torment!
The Surviving Dog
I was lying on my bed, reviewing my story’s manuscript, when a dust storm happened. Outside, there was a desert dust aerosol that made it toxic for us to breathe; it was as welcome as a riffraff. The dog inside was still wagging its tail, but in the shape of a triangle instead of a circle.
Frank-n-Furter Fan Fiction
Riffraff sprayed Magenta’s hair with an aerosol hairspray to sculpt it into the now famous black and white almost triangle. No matter how hard she wagged her head it would stay rigid. The manuscript demanded that Riffraff pulled her onto the bed on top of him but no matter how hard he tried Magenta stayed rigid.
Richard (as RiffRaff) sprayed ‘The Rocky Horror Show’ in 6ft high letters – using a whole can of aerosol – upon the city walls.
Having had his manuscript accepted for performance, Richard was wagging his tail.
Next, he planned a trip through the city with Frank-n-Furter upon the marriage bed in a love triangle with Brad and Janet.
As I was writing my manuscript in bed last night while doodling a triangle for no reason at all, my cat gave a wag of her white fluffy tail meaning trouble was approaching so I grabbed the aerosol can on the night bed table and when the riffraff came after my white fluffy cat that’s when I took care of him with the aerosol can and restrained him with that until the police came.
At midnight, the riffraff invaded my bedroom. A mysterious aerosol hissed, the dog began to wag his tail, and my manuscript vanished.
I checked beneath the bed and found three cats sitting in a triangle around my pages.
Their leader blinked.
“We have rewritten the ending.”
I read it.
Apparently, I was now the family pet.
Rall:
The aerosol can was strategically placed on top of the poetry manuscript on the bedside table. If you are going to allow riff raff into your home you have to expect unusual behaviour. The last one was a real wag who like to play the triangle in bed as an accompaniment to reading poetry. He would then spray the room with eucalyptus and pretend he was a koala bear…
Lost By A Hair
Standing out from the general theatre riffraff was important to the actress. So, she used the latest aerosol shellac to mold her wig into the shape of a triangle. But at the audition, the author of the hottest off-Broadway manuscript gave her a finger wag, of no-no, as he couldn’t get past her hair’s bed–head shape.
Some wag thought it would be funny to spray RIFFRAFF on the wall behind the flower bed set in the ceremonial triangle in the park.
The offending empty aerosol was found discarded alongside the bin on top of a handwritten manuscript bearing the same title.
It made good reading, though sadly the author was never found.
Susan Batten:
“The well-known writer and wag Herodotus Triangle finished his latest manuscript from his bed, the eccentric having nourished himself exclusively on energy drinks and ginger biscuits throughout. Then, reluctantly, he finally shaved, pitching the empty shaving cream aerosol out of his window into the crowd of adoring riffraff waiting below to scramble for any precious souvenirs.”
Is this, I wonder, a writer’s future?
My query was met with words meant for riffraff. I was called a wag and the suggestion was made to keep the manuscript under the bed and to give it a jolt of aerosol mold prevention. Maybe someday a story about a love triangle between a bot, a tree, and a princess will gain traction.
It’s A Dog’s Life
Looks like I’m outside with the riffraff for the night, shooed away with an aerosol can and no longer welcome in the bed.
I wag my tail and sit under a street-light, staring at the house hoping that master will open the door.
Should have eaten the triangle-cut sandwiches. Not the manuscript.
Murray Clarke:
I’m a canny sort of a bloke who keeps his wits about him at all times. I store my precious manuscripts in a strong, cardboard box – the shape of a triangle – under the bed, away from the prying eyes of riffraff and footballers’ wags – together with an aerosol can. There are certainly no flies on me!
Cheesy Ending
Gerald finally finished his manuscript at midnight, then collapsed into bed. His dog, a notorious wag, invited the neighborhood riffraff over. By morning, they’d eaten the manuscript, glued a triangle onto his forehead, and sprayed him with aerosol cheese. One raccoon left a scathing review: “Too cheesy. Loved the ending, though. Would recommend to other raccoons.”
I’ve a new manuscript
in my head
I’m working on the plot,
laying in my bed
It’s a love triangle –
girl, girl, boy
The boy’s a real wag,
one girl is just a toy
The other girl is riffraff,
though she looks like a doll
But she sprays out insults
as though from an aerosol
Stuck
Agent Steele was on a mission to catch Agent Boogie asleep on the job, apparently using two chairs as a bed. He wagged his head in thought. What riffraff! But at the moment, he was stuck in a tiny janitor closet that reeked of potent aerosol cans with triangle pictograms. He pulled out his latest manuscript.
Sitting on the bed, typing away on her new manuscript idea, Sue suddenly smelled something unpleasant… a nice word she thought to herself, maybe I’ll use it. Then Riffraff came running in covered with the something unpleasant, triangle shaped hard rubber toy in his teeth, and unceasing wags of his tail. She immediately grabbed the aerosol can!
Ann Edall-Robson:
Slipping into the dark house, Maddy tossed the triangle bandanna covering her face, beside the aerosol paint can. The wag of the dog’s tail thumped a welcome on the floor.
Blending with riffraff who specialized in night street artistry was taking its toll.
Maddy fell into bed.
“Soon I’ll have enough material to finish my manuscript.”
Bowser the family dog had a secret. While his people were away at work, he made himself comfortable on their bed. He sprayed a fresh scented aerosol to set the mood, arranged a laptop, and snacks of triangle shaped cheese, and continued his manuscript of dealing with the riffraff neighborhood mongrels. “Wag!”, best seller for sure.
Ancient Secrets
Outside the asylum, an angry mob of riffraff grumbled about the old teacher’s mad obsession. Inside, Professor Ghorin sat on his bed, clutching a manuscript; the triangle design etched into his hand pulsed in the moonlight. Searching for answers, he sprayed an aerosol mist across mysterious symbols, ignoring the rabble-rousers who continued to wag their tongues.
***
Image credit: Pinterest
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