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Ficlet Challenge: May 2022
purplecleric
Wow, what a response to the last prompts - and what great Fibbers you are!


The prompt this month is ... RED HANDED

For the second prompt: end your ficlet with someone saying 'What a day'.


Poetry /further Fibbing on topic is welcome!
 
Lurena

purplecleric wrote:



Poetry /further Fibbing on topic is welcome!

Here goes:

Oh
What
A Day
It was when
This series started
It’s title was called Blakes Seven

But
What
a day
It was when
A heartbreaking plot
Violently marked Blake Seven’s end
*No, I am not. I am not expendable, I'm not stupid, and I'm not going.*
Lara&Sue's Blake's 7 stories
 
Lurena
sure
first
suspect
was Vila
but red handed caught
was Roj Blake while stealing Roj Bear
*No, I am not. I am not expendable, I'm not stupid, and I'm not going.*
Lara&Sue's Blake's 7 stories
 
Anniew
My
Gun
Silences
Their questions.
Their blood besmirches
My hands, defying all scrubbing.
Play the hand fate deals you.
 
Hugbot
The Loneliness of Leaders

Avon had set a trap and it worked beautifully: he caught Blake red-handed. Their glorious leader had again dared to snatch Roj Bear!

‘What are you trying to prove by stealing my teddy bear every other day?’ Avon fumed.

Blake looked down in embarrassment.

‘It’s not about proving anything’, he tried to explain. ‘You must know that the responsibility for the crew and for our campaign is a heavy burden on me.’

‘And so you are venting your frustration by playing childish pranks on your crew mates?’

‘No, it’s not that.’ Desperately Blake pressed Roj Bear to his chest. ‘But with all my doubts and fears, I find it hard to sleep.’
 
Hugbot
I have always wondered about the inhabitants of Epinal mentioned in Breakdown, and this month’s prompt gave me an excuse to explore them a little:

Human Nature

It was one of the rare days when Avon didn’t know whether to admire Blake for his success or to sneer at him because of his absurd plans. Roj had actually managed to contact the Epinalians, a species hostile to humans. So much for the admirable part. However, he also planned to forge an alliance with them to fight the Federation, which was an even more stupid idea than joining forces with the Terra Nostra.

The Epinalians were of reptilian ancestry but there was not much to see of that. When their representative Äößü came aboard, he wore a cloak covering his body, and his face was hidden by a cowl. Only his hands were uncovered − red hands with scales and razor-sharp claws. These beings had evolved from predators who hunted in the red woods of Epinal where they were perfectly camouflaged.

The talks went on for nearly an hour; if you could call them talks at all. It was more a monologue by Blake trying to convince Äößü to support the rebels despite their also being humans because the mighty Federation might one day covet Epinalian territory.

Äößü didn’t say much. With reptilian cold-bloodedness, he listened and observed his hosts from under his cowl, his red hands neatly folded as if in prayer.

In exasperation, Blake finally asked, ‘So, what do you think?’

Äößü placed his hands flat on the table.

‘Thank you for your explanations’, he said. ‘We will of course not support you. You have to know that I am a Seeker.’

Avon frowned. Was that a political or a religious title? The hooded cloak reminded him of a monk’s habit.

‘My duty is to seek knowledge to inform our policy’, Äößü continued. ‘There was already discussion among our people to re-evaluate our stance on humans when you invited us to talks, so we took the opportunity to gain information. However, your words only confirm our ideas of your species. ‘

‘But we are not the Federation’, Blake exclaimed.

‘We are talking about your species as a whole irrespective of your political factions’, Äößü explained. ‘In fact, the very idea of having different factions fighting each other is a sign of your immaturity. Your people are irrational. You are killing each other. You are resolving your conflicts by violence. There is no way we could ever work together.’

He rose abruptly.

‘I will now go back to my people to share my knowledge.’

There was nothing more to say. Avon accompanied Äößü back to the teleport bay. When he sat down at the controls, he said, ‘You and I have much in common. I also loathe the irrationality of my people.’

A crocodile smile materialised in the shadows under the hood. ‘Do you really believe that − with your irrational lust for money and your irrational loyalty to your leader?’

When Äößü had vanished, Avon stared at the empty teleport bay in disbelief. Had an alien just declared him more human than he thought himself?
 
Anniew
Oh Huggy. What great contributions.

And Lurena so much fascinating poetry! I particularly liked What a day it was…
Play the hand fate deals you.
 
Hugbot
OK, I am showing my age with this nonsense...

A Weekend with Suzi

It was the day that Avon feared every year: his birthday. Thankfully, no-one aboard the Liberator knew the date, so at least he was spared the humiliation of pretending to be happy. When Blake sent him on a recon mission, Avon gladly obliged. The less he saw of his shipmates today, the better.

Walking in the rain through an ugly concrete jungle with grumpy inhabitants, Avon could bask in feeling miserable. He really enjoyed his outing.

But then he saw a small photograph in the window of an antiques shop. On any other day he wouldn’t have noticed it but today, he couldn’t help buying it.

Reality hit home hard when he had a closer look at the hand-written inscription. He wasn’t the type who drowned his sorrows in alcohol and yet he ended up downing four pints in the nearest pub.

Suddenly a stranger sat down at his table. Normally he would have shooed him away but he was too much absorbed in his sorrows to care. And what a strange guy it was: he seemed completely out of place, and his dress sense was worse than that of the people who had dreamed up the fancy costumes in the Liberator’s wardrobe. His absurdly long scarf took the biscuit.

‘You look sad’, he said.

Under normal circumstances, Avon would have told him to mind his own business but the four pints had lowered his defences. So he just nodded.

‘Business or women?’ the stranger asked.

Avon slid the photograph over the table.

‘Beautiful’, the stranger commented. ‘And very lively. Certainly no weak damsel in distress.’ He glanced at Avon’s attire and smiled. ‘And you also share a certain liking for black leather.’

‘Look at the autograph’, Avon said.

The stranger read it but didn’t seem to understand.

‘The date!’ Avon burst out.

Still no reaction, just as if a date didn’t mean anything to the guy.
‘She’s dead’, Avon explained. ‘She’s been dead for about 500 years. I was born much too late to meet my perfect match.’

‘Oh’, said the stranger. Suddenly, a smile appeared on his lips.

‘I think I can help you’, he said.

Avon should have been more suspicious, but the four pints made him follow the stranger into the yard where a mysterious blue box was waiting.

AngryAngryAngry


When Avon returned to the ship, he was in a surprisingly good mood. He was humming a song, and Blake could even hear him singing a few words of the lyrics: ’...you may never find another girl like her ‘cause she’s in love with you...’

What had happened in the few hours since breakfast when Avon had still been his usual grumpy self?

‘Did you have a good time on your mission?’ Blake asked.

‘Oh yes’, answered Avon. ‘I spent a long weekend with a wonderful lady.’

Blake stared at him, completely puzzled.

‘But you were only away for half a day!’

‘And what a day it was’, Avon exclaimed, smiling joyfully.
 
Brad
Commissioner Sleer, here is the report from Agent Arlen on Gauda Prime.

Is this confirmed?

Yes, Commissioner.

Blake, dead?

Yes, Commissioner.

And Avon?

Dead, Commissioner.

Vila?

Dead Commissioner.

Not Tarrant?

They are all dead, Commissioner. Commissioner, they are all dead.

Soolin?

Gordon Bennet. They are all dead, Commissioner. Commissioner, they are all dead.

What, even Avon?

They - are - all - dead, - Commissioner. Commissioner, - they - are - all - dead.

Orac?

Found in the back seat of a hovercar.

What a day.

Indeed, Commissioner.

The others?

Dead. Commissioner.

So, you're telling me they're all dead.

Yes, Commissioner.

You may go, trooper. Um, for my report, your name?

Lister, Ma'am.

I thought it might be.
Edited by Brad on 15-05-2022 22:14
i.imgur.com/AD5ikh4.png
Modthra
 
Anniew
Huggy. A story that made me very happy for Avon! Did he have a date with Susie Quattro?

Brad - 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣.
Play the hand fate deals you.
 
littlesue

Anniew wrote:

Huggy. A story that made me very happy for Avon! Did he have a date with Susie Quattro?

Brad - 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣.


I now have an image of the said Susie Q playing her guitar for all she is worth in that leather outfit of hers.
What instrument would Avon have played? The spoons????
Bongo drums??
Cue Bonzo Dog Doodah band Intro and Outro.....Grin
Cold! You don't know the meaning of the word cold!
Cold is when you have ice on the INSIDE of your window!!


Sue's Book Shelf https://www.mediafire.com/folder/z1xg...Zine_Shelf
Sue's Stories sues stories https://sjlittle.webs.com
 
Anniew
Little Sue 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣
Play the hand fate deals you.
 
Travisina
Caught
Red-
Handed,
Pockets full
of stolen jewells.
And my brain won't stay adjusted.

So
Life
Sentence:
I'm exiled
to Cygnus Alpha.
At least I'm not sentenced to death.
There is no point being grown up if you can't be childish sometimes
 
Anniew
Travisina. I love these. Little snippets of B7 life. We should make books and get Hugbot and Lurena to illustrate them.

First book. Brad’s limerick guide to B7.

Second. The Fibber’s guide to the B7 universe.
Play the hand fate deals you.
 
Travisina

Anniew wrote:

Travisina. I love these. Little snippets of B7 life. We should make books and get Hugbot and Lurena to illustrate them.

First book. Brad’s limerick guide to B7.

Second. The Fibber’s guide to the B7 universe.

Fun idea, Annie - it's ages since we last did a book! Grin
There is no point being grown up if you can't be childish sometimes
 
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