3WT in 55

He almost passed out from the curglaff but the memory of her haimiah lap kept him awake while diving to retrieve the talisman she had lost when she and her lover capsized during their canoe trip. They were both rescued but not her auriferous stone. He'll show her why he was a thoroughbred golden retriever.

*

curglaff, n. the shock one feels when plunging into cold water
auriferous, adj. gold-bearing; a stone bearing gold
haimiah, adj. Warm and comfortable; homey; folksy

3WT in 55

Martha complained about Robert being such a panjandrum.

Robert complained about Martha's constant jeremiads.

Their friends thought matching them up was a fatuity.

Little did they know that the pair had acted it all out in order to make them confess their dirty little secrets and thrive on the fortune they'd collect with the blackmail.

3WT in 55

Nathan was continuously bored with the jejune debates at the corporate meetings so he decided one day to roil the matters. Everybody gawped when he stood up on the table and performed the Full Monty. Nathan had lost his job with the firm but is now the star performer at the “Lingam Extraordinaire” gay club.

3WT - Rainbow

Previous installments here, here and here
~

Days passed and life settled at Pagan's farm. The diet of eggs and goat milk seemed to suit Emerald (as Pagan decided to call the creature for its colour) and although it didn't grow much, it looked healthy and content. During the day it would stay in the shed. The farm was isolated enough but Pagan didn't want an occasional passer-by to see the creature, at least until she was sure what to do next. Internet wasn't much help and she still didn't know what she was dealing with. But she believed the secret would reveal itself when the time came. However, Pagan felt it was right to leave the door open after dark so Emerald would be able to go out if it wanted, and sometimes the shed was empty when she woke up at night and looked but the creature was always back before dawn. If Pagan may have had any doubts, Nelson accepted Emerald swoopstake and the two became fast friends. The dog would spend hours lying beside the creature and they seemed to communicate in their own secret way.

One morning while Pagan was in the middle of milking the goat a strange cry startled her so she almost spilt the bucketful of milk.

"Gardyloo," echoed through the meadow as if the source of the call was coming from somewhere above.

At first Pagan saw nothing but then a whirl of colour appeared before her until it materialised into the strangest looking man she had ever seen. He would be average in every aspect if it weren't for his emerald green hair and iridescent beard. His cloak was almost too bright to look at, so intensely it glistened in the morning light.

"Wha... who are you? How did you come here?" Pagan couldn't hide her astonishment. She glanced secretly towards the shed's closed door but averted her eyes in an instant and, before the man could say anything, added: "How can I help you?"

"I believe you have something that belongs to me," he replied.

"But let me introduce myself first. My name doesn't matter, it is unpronounceable for you anyway. For convenience's sake you can call me Rainbow. I am... hmmm... how should I say it without complicating too much... well, where I come from I am some sort of what you call a policeman.

"Oh, you may find my appearance slightly disturbing. My apologies, I should have taken care of that before but I needed the thing to get me here."

Having said which, he took off the dazzling cloak, folded it carefully and tucked it into a pouch hanging loosely from his shoulders. Pagan heaved a sigh of relief as her eyes stopped hurting but she remained apprehensive. Was he referring to Emerald? She still had more questions than there were answers but was hoping it wasn't with a wanion that the strange man materialised into her life. Part of her wanted him away but the other part was eager to discover his secrets. She asked him into the house but he said he'd rather sit on the bench and savour the sunshine and would she be so kind as to bring him a mug of goat milk. She obliged and he invited her to sit beside him. It would take a while, he said, before he would tell her all she needed to know.

3WT - Dragon?

continuing on from here and here

The creature in front of Pagan was a curious sight. It was smaller than she'd expected given its weight but stoutly built, its body covered in dark emerald scales, almost black on the back and the muscular tail but brighter and almost iridescent on the belly-side and around the thropple. The creature's hind legs were massive and looked packed with power but Pagan was perplexed by the lack of any front extremities. Aren't dragons supposed to have wings? Or was the creature something else completely?

She tried to recall what she'd read about dragons. She never liked the idea of them being mindless voracious beasts defedating everything within their reach and she immediately dismissed the thought. She wanted to believe they were highly intelligent beings capable of telepathic communication. She kept snilching the creature in front of her and tried to focus a thought: "You must be hungry. Will you absquatulate if I leave you here and get you something to eat?" Seconds passed and nothing happened. Then, suddenly, Nelson the three-legged dog approached the creature, his tail wagging, and curled next to it. The creature lowered its bulky snout and touched the dog gently, then lay its head beside him. Pagan, in spite of not wanting to be robleted by the dog's behaviour, realised instinctively she could trust the creature. She would milk the goat and collect some eggs and feed it first. Then she would try and gather as much information as she could on dragons and similar creatures.


the words:

thropple -1. The throttle or windpipe; 2.To throttle; strangle. [Provincial English]
defedate (v) - to defile, to pollute
snilch (v) - to eye someone or something
absquatulate (v) - to depart in a hurry; to die
roblet (v) - to lead astray

3WT - Arrival

Since you asked for it, the story continues. I was hoping to finish it this time but the story refused to turn in the direction I initially wanted it to...

Pagan kept staring at the creature in disbelief. She was used to picking up stray and abandoned animals and finding them new homes or, if that didn't work, keeping them with her. However, the strangest thing she'd found thus far was a caricature of a dog with dreadlocks which, as she found out later, was a puli, a Hungarian sheep dog, and was supposed to be an acersecomic. But this... how can this be? Dragons don't exist! There must be an alternative explanation.

"Oh well, let's take you home", she sighed and lifted the sack along with its unusual content onto her pickup truck. Her home was just a few minutes' drive away; a small cottage at the edge of a chestnut grove surrounded by y neatly cultivated garden where Pagan uberated her crops. Some fowl scavenged the yard and a goat stood tethered in the middle of a meadow. Two tabby cats and a scruffy three-legged yellow dog lay on the veranda, soaking in the warm sunshine. The house was bright yellow with large windows. The sunny side of the slanted roof was covered in solar cells and the ridge sported a satellite dish.

Pagan pulled up in the driveway and shut the engine. She reached for the sack and harled it over to a shed at the back of the house. All the time the dog hopped around and yelped excitedly at the sack.

"It's alright, Nelson," Pagan tried to calm him down but the dog wouldn't stop.

"Now that's enough. Be a good boy and give me a break. Or have you forgotten about that bear cub you chased until his mother gave you a lesson? I was able to save your life if not your leg then but this could be just as dangerous."

These words seemed to calm Nelson down and he backed away but hasn't left the sack out of his sight. Pagan could finally untie the sack and drop it so she could snilch the mysterious creature properly.

3WT in 55

After his girlfriend had left him, Ivan lived in some kind of accide. He would only get up for work and eat only to keep his body functioning. The books he used to enjoy gathered dust and his cromack and hiking boots lay forgotten. He just sat there, contemplating the fissiparous nature of human relationships.

3WT in 55

"What a coxcomb!" exclaimed Ulla when a young man eructated while passing her. What she didn't know was that Alex was completely unaware of his surroundings when he noctambuled. She also didn't know his sleepwalking had never taken him this far before and he would be shocked to find himself awake in the red district.

3WT in 55

In the assectation of his father's ambitions he became a lawyer. Infamous for never losing a trial, he often caused amarulence and grief in his opponents and victims with his unscrupulous approach. He didn’t care that the family renounced him some time ago as they felt he had defedated their name by becoming gangsters’ attorney.

3WT - again in 55

No odynometer can measure the amount of pain a mother feels when her baby disappears without a trace. Just imagine the horror when the rumour spreads there is a brephophagist among the villagers. But then a sagittipotent paladin hunting in the forest finds the baby boy, having got lost while playing, and brings him back.

3WT in 55

"Where did you hide my earrings again, you facinorous bird," Melanie muttered as she searched despondently for the pair of earrings she wanted to wear at the hebdonadal numismatic society meeting. She should have extirpated her brother's idea to domesticate a magpie before the bird claimed ownership of all the glittering objects in her vicinity.

3WT - just some nonsense

Faced with a paucity of ideas as to how to continue with his latest novel the bestselling author decided to take a walk. Soon he noticed he was beeing followed but before he could do anything a glabrous man grabbed him by the thropple. He tried in vain to explain he had nothing of value with him as he was running out of breath. Suddenly his assailant burst in a bout of sternutation which gave the man enough time to escape to safety. When he remembered he had an old copper phalera still attached to his jacket, he realised it had probably saved his life. Harry Zoilist, the notorious gangster, was allergic to copper. When he finally returned home, he was happy he had escaped the hitonious attack so he put on a CD with isangelous zither music and set about writing. The incident had provided him with enough material to overcome his writing block.

3WT (in 139 characters)

He never meant to roblet her by his gnathonising but a streak of scaevity caused by a series of events made him lose the love of his life.

3WT in 55

The beast snapped at Sheitan's thropple but the mutt evaded the attack. No second attempt ensued and the two adversaries stood staring at each other in a stalemate.

"You two really are incompossible," said the man, harling startled Sheitan away from the beast. "Perhaps rescuing that orphan cougar wasn't such a great idea after all."

TWT 40

The waitress adimpleated the alien visitors' mugs with water and after finding out they were pamphagous offered them some stew with lubency.

TWT 39

She had an aeipathy for ancient scripts. She was ruthless in her pursuit of the things that caught her fancy and would go to any length to get what she wanted. When she heard a very old rimestock was on auction she just knew she had to get hold of it. She felt this could be the patration of her life-long quest.

She was still clutching a strange looking parchment when she was discovered in her backyard, a yelve protruding from her chest. Beside her lay another body shot through his head, a pistol still in the hand. On the handle of the yelve was written in capital letters with a red marker: “NOBODY BREAKS MY HEART TWICE”

TWT 38

“You said water, sir?” The waitress asked with an incredulous look which somewhat betrayed her courteous smile revealing a rather nasty brochity. “I’m sorry, sir. I can’t bring you that.”

The man slowly turned on his heels and left the bar, followed by a weird-looking hairy creature.

“Come, X, let’s get away from this ficulnean place and find a world where they will know how to take care of Denebolan aquabibs like us. How does Earth sound to you?”

TWT 37

Her gardeviance was ready. Maggie gave it a once over to make sure she'd left nothing behind. She would never be returning to this kexy place which was once her home and the man she thought she loved until she realised he was nothing but an aretaloger unable to fulfil any of his promises. His drinking habits made killing him easy. The arsenic worked quickly and efficiently and it would take a couple of days before anyone discovered his body.

The coach was waiting for her. She nodded to the driver and entered, holding fast the ticket which, she believed, would give her a new life: the ticket for the inaugural cruise of the Titanic.

TWT 36 (aka better late than never) in 55 words

Allastair Muggins claimed he had discovered an ancient rimestock which contained the secret of perpetual youth but when he was asked to show the script during a confabulation at the archeologists' convention one of the colleagues pudified him by proving he couldn’t even read runes and the script was merely a recipe for boar stew.

Oops, I almost forgot (aka TWT35 in 55 words)

I lived in an illusion of a nubivagant bliss while revelling in your tenellous affection until something I said made you believe I had somehow misquemed you and as a result you cast me off like some sort of maleolent scum which made me plummet into tristificial vacivity suffarcinated with a strong feeling of xenization.