The Legend of Tory Adore 1: "Encounter at Scooper's"
Inspiration hits with a flash, stories written on the go. A rumble of laughter and the tale is heard only in echoes. The wind blows me in a new direction. Whom shall I visit next?
Old Tory Adore may not seem like much now, but let me tell you, back in the day, Tory was a woman to reckon with. When she trod the streets of Fentriss, New Jersey, brother, you could hear people scurryin' away. Her frogskin boots jingled remorselessly as she strode in a buckling way towards the saloon, Scooper's. Shriveled ol' Parsnips Furn was the barkeep back then, slidin' the shandy down the bar like a ruthless antediluvian on the Shuffleboard Deck. Once Tory parted the ancient folds of the door like a bed monster in search of toes, even the player CD unit cantered to a halt and hands of Yahtzee folded in fear.
There was only one who would stand against her: her ex lover and current rival for the title of Editor General of the Maple Rag, the local rag.
Constantine Pips, tough man of town, struck a match against his flinty chin and struck up a conversation with the other. Chin. A many-mandibled man, was Constantine.
He tipped his flagon of mocha back and wiped his arm against his warm mouth.
Time to play.
No prequels yet. Why not write one?
Comments (2 so far!)
Splendid nonsense, slapdashmonuments. Splendid indeed.
Not too sure about two "struck"s so close together, but otherwise it reads brilliantly.
- #899 Posted 7 years ago
Thank you, Ethel!
I recorded this in a rather painfully scratchy narrative voice and posted it here:
- #901 Posted 7 years ago
- Published 7 years ago.
- Story viewed 11 times and rated 0 times.
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