Monday, February 1, 2021

Nailpolish Stories

Hey there, crew!

  Well, I stumbled across a marvelous place the other day...Nailpolish Stories!  There are two rules for writing:  1. Base your story off the color title of a nail polish.  2.  It must be exactly 25 words.  

  Oh man, I had to try!  

  My grandmother asked me a question the other day. "Why do you want to move?"  Sometimes 25 words says it better than 2500.  

  I'm flattered to be featured on the site.  Check it out - it just went live.

Dr. Electro XV: Sadistic Santa

 Previously on Dr. Electro:  Henry observes a sinister meeting taking shape, and is startled by an unseen door opening behind him.  Dr. Electro and Crew get a move on, while Mabel and The Old One hit the road, walking deeper into the mystery. 

Dr. Electro, Episode XV: - Sadistic Santa

  “What the?!” Henry exclaimed, his outcry becoming quickly muffled.  With a quiet thud, he was down and...inside a giant cloth sack, the zip of tape sealing hopes of escape.  The opening door he had heard a split second ago was the squeak of bad news.  “Ho ho ho!” boomed an alarming voice.  “Who are you?  Why am I in a bag?” yelled Henry.  “Just call me Santa Claws, pops. Take it easy, and stay on the good list, OK? I take the bad kids to the North Pole.  Watch out I don’t hit you with a candy cane, capisce?”  With another maniacal laugh, this sadistic stand-in started to drag the entrapped Henry across the roof. Bump bump bump over the cracks and wires, scraping the threshold, and thankfully, into an elevator instead of stairs.  “Who’s there?  Who’s that?” Henry yelled, still muffled inside the bag.  “...Elves, boss.  Shaddup.”  A sinking feeling in his gut matched the motion of the elevator, and Henry guessed correctly that they were door.  A blast of wind and rain hit, signaling the open door, and the alley pavement bit up through the sack as “Santa” dragged Henry across to the Tower, and the waiting League meeting upstairs. 

Fake Santa failed to notice two sets of eyes that weren’t sleeping, though.  Mabel and The Old One lurked behind convenient garbage cans, galvanized like the will of the two women who watched this abduction with alarm. The door of the Tower building snapped shut, nearly licking its chops, and the spectacle was gone. “Who’s in the sack?  And...why Santa?”  “I’m not sure, Mabel.  But something will turn up.  Can’t you feel it in the air?”  Mabel had to admit it - there was a certain...electricity.

Just then: voices. “Blimey, the whole city is dark, old chap!”  Mabel tensed, some menial worker deep in her brain warning “Ma’am, you’ve heard that before.”  “Rutherford, I think this must be a cover for something” Electro suddenly spat out, clearing the alley where the women watched from behind the garbage cans. Mabel recognized the group now, and sharply whispered a pet name for our venerable hero. “Sparky!”  The men froze.  “Mabel?”  “Over here!”  “...Sparky?!” With a muffled guffaw, his compatriots pointed first to the trash cans, then to the mortified Electro, dimmed down in front of the boys.  Murphy was especially gratified, feeling part of the crew at last.  His expensive shoes were properly scuffed beyond Club standards, and now he wasn’t the only one with a weakness. Settling into this delicious new role of sleuth and Ordinary Man, he strode with the gang to rendezvous with the unexpected allies and Electro’s sweetheart.  To Be Continued…