{"id":1763,"date":"2014-07-18T14:08:48","date_gmt":"2014-07-18T14:08:48","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/bethturnage.com\/?p=136"},"modified":"2014-07-18T14:08:48","modified_gmt":"2014-07-18T14:08:48","slug":"chuck-wendigs-latest-flash-fiction-challenge-2","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/bethturnage.com\/?p=1763","title":{"rendered":"Chuck Wendig’s Latest Flash Fiction Challenge"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"AliceWhen Chuck Wendig put up his latest flash fiction challenge<\/a> I couldn\u2019t resist. But, here, I\u2019ll let me explain it in his own words:<\/p>\n

This week, a bit of a quirky one.
\nYou ever play those old-school Infocomm text adventures?<\/em><\/p>\n

(Zork: \u201cYou are eaten by a grue.\u201d)<\/p>\n

I was a huge fan.<\/p>\n

Now, there\u2019s a Twitter account \/ bot that, if you tweet the word \u201cinventory\u201d to this particular Twitter bot \u2014 @YouAreCarrying \u2014 it will tweet back at you a randomized list of inventory items, taken, I believe, from old Infocomm games.
\nTake all the items listed in the response tweet (your \u201cinventory\u201d) and use them all \u2014 in some way, oblique, abstract or overt \u2014 in a flash fiction. We\u2019ll up the word count to 2000 words for this one. Due by next Friday (7\/18), noon EST. Post at your online space; drop a link below so folks can follow it back. And that\u2019s it. Go forth. Get your inventory. Write a story.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

And the bot came back with this for me:<\/p>\n

\u202a@starrynightastr a two liter bottle of Classic Coke, a trash basket, a cake, a glass analysis, a pound note, a leaflet, a granola cluster.<\/p>\n

I’m not going to sit there groaning about the twisted angst it took for me to come up with a story, because when I read these things there was only one place I could take them. To Alice, my Out of Wonderland character from my previous story “The White Rabbit.”<\/p>\n

And here\u2019s the story:<\/p>\n

Cake: The Continuing Adventures of Alice Out of Wonderland<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWe shouldn\u2019t be meeting like this, Alice,\u201d said the white rabbit sitting at the bar. I slid onto the stool next to him. \u201cThe Queen will have my job.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s about \u2018cake<\/span>\u2019, rabbit. I think the Queen will look the other way. \u201c<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t know,\u201d he said. \u201cYou\u2019ve been persona non-grata since you quit your commission with the Secret Service. The Queen is quite beside herself.<\/p>\n

\u201cI couldn\u2019t keep doing that job, not after Johan.\u201d Johan was the Eurotrash arms and coffee dealer that captured my heart and betrayed it by feeding me the drug \u2018cake\u2019 along with his coffee. If it weren\u2019t for rabbit, I\u2019d be toast.<\/p>\n

The barkeep sidled up to us. You couldn\u2019t help to notice a dude like that. His white button down was so tight it highlighted every muscle in his impressive chest and arms. My mind wandered off the job as he smiled at me. \u201cWhat\u2019s your pleasure?\u201d the barkeep said.<\/p>\n

I was about to answer that he was, when rabbit snapped at me.<\/p>\n

\u201cAlice! Eyes on your own paper! And you!\u201d he said to barkeep, his voice a growl, \u201cCoke, Classic for both of us, and leave the bottle<\/span>.\u201d<\/p>\n

The handsome barkeep gave rabbit a jaundiced eye, but put up the two-liter bottle on the counter and poured us two glasses. I slide a pound note<\/span> to the barkeep, who gave me a strange look.<\/p>\n

Rabbit made a derisive noise and threw a five-dollar bill on the counter.<\/p>\n

\u201cAlice, this is the US, not the UK. Hint. See the two-liter<\/span>? In the UK the bottles are one and three quarters liters. And they\u2019d be more than a pound anyway. Can\u2019t you keep your head straight here in Reality?\u201d<\/p>\n

I mumbled something about not getting enough sleep, which was true enough. Since I received that phone call from my detective friend on the police force, my life has taken one strange turn after another. I started to wonder if I was better off back in Wonderland.<\/p>\n

\u201cSo,\u201d said rabbit after downing a glass of Coke in one shot, \u201cwhy am I here?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI think,\u201d I said, \u201cI have a line on Johan\u2019s supplier.\u201d<\/p>\n

Rabbit looked unimpressed.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat is it to me? Or to Wonderland?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI followed him to the entrance, rabbit. He\u2019s still smuggling in cake to Wonderland. \u201c<\/p>\n

\u201cWho is he?\u201d said rabbit.<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t know. It was dark. I couldn\u2019t see his face.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI see you haven\u2019t lost your touch,\u201d he said sarcastically. \u201cOkay, good to know,\u201d he sprang off the stool onto the floor.<\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s it? Good to know?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ll take it from here,\u201d he said. \u201cYou\u2019re out of the game, so stay out of Wonderland\u2019s business.\u201d<\/p>\n

I stared after my former friend as he hopped out of the bar.<\/p>\n

\u201cHey, darlin\u2019,\u201d said the barkeep smiling. \u201cCan I get you anything stronger?\u201d<\/p>\n

I shook my head.<\/p>\n

\u201cWell,\u201d he said with a sleazy grin, \u201cif you ever want company, give me a call.\u201d He pulled off an old leaflet<\/span> off the wall near me and wrote down a phone number. After folding it he slid into my hand.<\/p>\n

I took it absently, my mind on the conversation with the white hare. Rabbit was acting strange, or rather, more strangely than usual. Something was up, or my name isn\u2019t Alice.<\/p>\n

#<\/p>\n

My office was a few blocks down the street. On a third floor window was my name, painted in gold. \u201cAlice Private Investigations.\u201d I trudged up the brownstone steps and up the three flights. Turning the key in the lock, the door didn\u2019t open easily. I soon found out why. A manila envelope, stuffed thickly, caught under the door. I was waiting for this.<\/p>\n

My office isn\u2019t much. Just a place to meet potential clients. There was a huge oak desk paired with a leather chair settled under the front window, which was the main selling point of this space. I didn\u2019t have money for fancy furniture. Wonderland paid in white and red hearts which not exactly a tradable currency in Reality.<\/p>\n

Sitting in the huge leather chair I opened the envelope and pulled out the pages. It was a glass analysis<\/span> of the gory scene I stumbled on a couple days before. The one good police contact I managed to make in this city lay dead on top of the shards of glass created by him falling through the upper story window. Only I didn\u2019t think he fell. My instincts said he was pushed. My suspicions were confirmed by the report. Residue of \u201ccake\u201d was on the glass.<\/p>\n

Cake was rapidly becoming the drug of choice in my new adopted city. Wrapped as it was into little tiny petit fours or sometimes cupcakes, usually decorated with irresistible cutesy flourishes of buttercream frosting, the drug appealed to nearly everyone with a sweet tooth. And considering how much sugar America consumed, that was just about everyone. Only I had put away the dealer who pushed cake. At least I thought I did.<\/p>\n

Sighing, I dumped the report in my trash basket<\/span>. It was then I saw the clump of granola<\/span> on the floor.<\/p>\n

Not only had someone looked through my office, I knew who it was. This was bad, very bad. And then my cell phone rang.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou didn\u2019t look at the note my friend the bartender gave you,\u201d the voice sneered. It had a breathy quality, with a Valley Girl accent. \u201cNo wonder you got booted from the Queen\u2019s service. Such inattention to detail.\u201d<\/p>\n

A chill ran up my spine.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019re a bit far from home, Enola,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n

\u201cRead it, bitch,\u201d she said. I opened the note. It said: Come to the pier or the rabbit dies.<\/p>\n

\u201cReally,\u201d I said coolly not wanted her to hear how rattled I was.<\/p>\n

\u201cMidnight,\u201d my old nemesis hissed. \u201cDon\u2019t be late. And no cops!\u201d<\/p>\n

#<\/p>\n

My head started to pound. Bad enough I made the crossing from fiction to reality, now I was at a cross genre juncture with Enola Granola. Enola was a Valley Girl with hippy pretensions gone wrong. Plus she tried to insist she was another famous cartoon character with a similar name. But I was not fooled. As much as she tried to pretend she was that Granola Gurl, Enola was her own special brand of crazy. Enola had her own grudges against me. Belfast for one. San Bernadino another. But she always managed to make her escape. This eco-terrorist was loony and smart, a dangerous combination. And now she had rabbit.<\/p>\n

At midnight, under the yellow glow of single light on the pier, I met Enola.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhere\u2019s rabbit?\u201d I said in surly tone, in no mood to be nice.<\/p>\n

\u201cJanesh!\u201d called Enola, and the barkeep stepped out of the shadows with the rabbit tied up in ropes. The poor creature lay dejected in Janesh\u2019s arms.<\/p>\n

\u201cRabbit!\u201d I cried.<\/p>\n

\u201cEnough,\u201d said Enola pointing a gun at me. \u201cIt\u2019s time to get you out of my hair once and for all.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo! Let me. After all its my brother she put in that damned prison!\u201d said Janesh. He put rabbit down on the dock. He walked up the few steps to Enola and tried to yank the gun from her arms. As they tussled, I launched myself past them, grabbed onto rabbit and twisting rolled off the pier into the water. Shots whizzed above my head and I dove, taking rabbit down with me. I thrashed my legs to move us through the water, but eventually I had to come up for air. When I did I saw the Queen\u2019s men surrounding Enola and Janesh. A familiar face stood on the pier looking out anxiously over the water.<\/p>\n

\u201cHatter!\u201d I cried. \u201cOver here!\u201d<\/p>\n

Just then rabbit twisted in my arms.<\/p>\n

\u201cGet these damn ropes off me!\u201d he sputtered.<\/p>\n

A couple of the Queen\u2019s men got into the water and helped us to shore.<\/p>\n

\u201cGood job, Agent Alice!\u201d said Hatter smiling broadly.<\/p>\n

\u201cAgent Alice?\u201d said the rabbit.<\/p>\n

\u201cShut up,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, rabbit,\u201d said Hatter. \u201cIt\u2019s the deal she made with the Queen to get these men to help. You know how she hates sending her troops out of Wonderland.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cGood,\u201d sighed rabbit. \u201cMy plan worked.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou let yourself get captured so I would have to ask the Queen for help?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, you know what they say,\u201d he replied with a twisted grin. \u201cTricks aren\u2019t just for kids.\u201d<\/p>\n

Photo published under Creative Commons License issues by Flickr user mags20_eb<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

When Chuck Wendig put up his latest flash fiction challenge I couldn\u2019t resist. But, here, I\u2019ll let me explain it in his own words: This week, a bit of a quirky one. You ever play those old-school Infocomm text adventures? (Zork: \u201cYou are eaten by a grue.\u201d) I was a huge fan. Now, there\u2019s a […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"om_disable_all_campaigns":false,"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_active":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_note":"","_monsterinsights_sitenote_category":0,"_uf_show_specific_survey":0,"_uf_disable_surveys":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":true,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[1],"tags":[46,86,95,97,142],"class_list":["post-1763","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized","tag-alice-in-wonderland","tag-cake","tag-chuck-wendig","tag-chuck-wendigs-flash-fiction-challenge","tag-flash-fiction-challenge"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/bethturnage.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1763","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/bethturnage.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/bethturnage.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bethturnage.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bethturnage.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=1763"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/bethturnage.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1763\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/bethturnage.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=1763"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bethturnage.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=1763"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bethturnage.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=1763"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}