By Julie Daines
It was a dark and stormy night. Lightning split the sky, and
the sound of a dog barking up the wrong tree woke Rodney from his troubled
sleep. Now he was wide-awake and chomping at the bit.
His bedroom door creaked opened. “Wake up and smell the
coffee, sir,” voiced Jeeves apologetically. “Sorry to burst your bubble, but there’s
a girl at the front door.”
Who in tarnation would be out on a night like this? It was
raining cats and dogs. Young Rodney’s parents had both kicked the bucket years
ago. Their approach to child rearing had never been spare the rod and spoil the
child, but Rodney missed his old man like a duck misses the water.
“We can’t leave her hanging. Shall I let her in?” inquired
Jeeves quizzically.
Rodney raked his hands through his hair and bit his lip to
keep from screaming. He didn’t want to beat around the bush because he knew
beggars can’t be choosers. Plus the butler was old as the hills and Rodney was
a glutton for punishment.
Rodney ignored the chip on his shoulder. “I’ll get the
door,” he stated matter-of-factly. “Then we’ll see which way the wind blows.”
Quicker than a New York minute, Rodney reached the large oak
front door. It was now or never. After all, there was more than one way to skin
a cat.
Even though he was dog-tired, he took the bull by the horns,
grasping the doorknob with a white-knuckle grip. It wouldn’t open. He buckled
down and pulled. Still nothing, so he made a last ditch effort. Third times the charm, he thought in his
mind to himself. He put his back into it, and that was the ticket. The door flew
open.
Rodney’s eyes popped out of his head. There stood a real
looker, cute as a button and wet behind the ears. She smiled, flashing a set of
perfectly white teeth.
Rodney’s heart skipped a beat and butterflies filled his
stomach. Suddenly, a cold chill ran down his spine. Could she be a wolf in
sheep’s clothing? Too late now, you can’t put the toothpaste back in the tube.
After all, lightening never strikes the same place twice.
The girl at the door looked daggers at him. “Take a picture,
it will last longer.” Her voice was smooth as silk.
She was only a stones throw away, and Rodney couldn’t trust
her, not for all the tea in China. But why should he be afraid of his own
shadow? There was no point in closing the barn door after the horse had bolted. It was just like his mom used to say, All roads lead to Rome.
“Come in,” he invited nervously while waves of fear crashed
over him. No bones about it, she looked like someone back from the dead—a blast
from the past. True, you can’t fit a square peg in a round hole, but you also
can’t judge a book by its cover.
He waved the white flag and tried to break the ice. He was
the man of the house now, and he called the shots. “You must be frozen solid.”
“I’m not here to chew the fat,” she declared assertively. “I
have a bone to pick with you. You’ve spent your whole life swimming with the
sharks, and where there’s smoke, there’s fire. I’m your long lost sister!” she
finally proclaimed.
Rodney opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. He
looked like a fish out of water.
“Wow,” the girl exclaimed. “I knew you weren’t the sharpest
tool in the shed, but you’re slower than cold molasses in January.”
It seemed his hands were tied. After all, blood is thicker
than water. He would have liked to sweep this under the rug, but a chain is
only as strong as its weakest link.
“What am I, chopped
liver?” he questioned inquiringly. “You’re wearing your heart on your sleeve. No
need to sugar coat it, I can see you’re in a world of hurt.”
She ran forward and threw her arms around him. “I don’t mean
to rub salt in your wounds, but here’s the whole ball of wax: someone murdered
our parents.”
“No!” Rodney moaned sorrowfully. “Am I my brother’s keeper?”
“Who died and left you in charge?” she demanded angrily.
“I’m at the end of my rope, and the only person who can help me is not just
whistling Dixie.”
This girl was wound tighter than a spring. She should've known better than anyone that it's not over till the fat lady sings.
“When all is said and done,” Rodney uttered defensively,
“actions speak louder than words.”
“Does that mean you’ll help?” she queried hopefully.
Rodney already had one paw on the chicken coop. It was time
to look at the glass half full. “I may be grasping at straws, but yeah, I’m in—hook,
line, and sinker.”
She tossed him a grateful smile, then pulled a crumpled
piece of paper from her back pocket and gave him a taste of his own medicine.
“A picture is worth a thousand words,” she started to begin
saying. “I found this smoking gun. A picture of the snake in the grass who
killed our parents.”
Dead men tell no tales, and Rodney doubted that what you see
is what you get. Still, he gave the photo the once-over.
It was a picture of a man who had as many chins as a Chinese
phonebook.
That took the wind out of his sails. He hated being caught
with his pants down. Now that he was wedged between a rock and a hard place, he
could finally see the writing on the wall.
He didn’t have to compare apples to oranges to know who was
in the picture. And just because curiosity killed the cat, didn’t mean he
couldn’t find his way out of a paper bag.
The cliches in this piece are many layered--plus I added a few gems of bad writing free of charge. I hope you enjoyed them all. What made you LOL?
13 comments:
The butler did it! Ha!
It took me 3 paragraphs to figure out what was happening, but then I started laughing :) It's hard to pick a favorite, but I like the toothpaste one because I've never heard it before. The wind out of his sails paragraph had me laughing pretty hard too. Very creative, love it!
That was the cat's meow. Very clever.
I tried leaving a comment yesterday, but blogger hates me!
I loved this story. very clever and funny. My favorite was "He thought to himself," of course. And the various emotions running down his spine cracked me up. You rock, Jules!
Ha ha ha! I lost track of the story because I spent the time picturing the cliches literally--always fun to do. "Heart on his sleeve." Eeewwwwwww!
And yet, it works.
I threw a few things in there just for you Scott! I hope you noticed them all.
"Rodney raked his hands through his hair and bit his lip to keep from screaming."
HAHA. All you're missing is, "And then he let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding.
Very clever.
Also, "he thought in his mind to himself." with italics. Hahaha.
You just need them both to be heart-stoppingly gorgeous, and you're on your way to a best-selling YA novel!!
I actually had he let out breath he didn't know he'd been holding, and a few other physical cliches, but I took them out to keep it under 1000 words.
Haha! I knew you'd like those!
I have always liked, 'Well I'll be a monkeys uncle.' Very funny and creative haha.
Idiom and cliche central! This was so fun! It became a contest to see if I could catch all of them. I like the toothpaste in a tube (I'd never heard that one before).
Bless your heart. I thought somebody'd learned ya better.
Loved, loved it.
Excellent! Why that was so well done, it didn't leave a speck of pink! But really, anything that begins with a dark and stormy night has got to be awesome. Loved it!
Brilliant ... sure to be a best-seller!
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