Monday, 11 November 2013

Nanowrimo 2013, Day Eleven. The one with the Spatula.

Day eleven has been kind to me in many ways. I took further strides towards knowing where I'm really going, enjoyed my character slightly more and cracked out two thousand seven hundred words in the morning session. Not bad, though it took some time.

I'm due for an evening session but I thought I'd stick this up now, a short passage from today's mad ramblings. I think there is bound to be a fair amount of sad and reflective stuff to read today considering the date, and so I picked something that may make someone smile... Though probably not.

‘Here’s a crazy thing,’ I said, my figure lingering over the play button, ‘I can tell you that the person about to come and whack this guy in the head is a Auburn haired beauty from the Liverpool area that loves baking and watching super hero films. I can also tell you that she can speak three different languages, once crushed a man’s throat with her thighs and she smells of summer meadows... She also shouts when engaged in excellent sex and is known for beating her lover, consensually, with plastic kitchen spatulas.’ I pressed play and as the captive moaned on strode a woman in combats who smashed the moaner in the head with a cosh, dropping him to the floor instantly.

‘See, I know who this woman is because I know who the man in the chair is, the man behind the hostage taking, the mastermind terrorist who is leading this band of dangerous killers, a man who loves the feel of plastic utensils on his well honed and pert rear. I know who he is because... I’ve worked with him before,’ I turned smiling at my friends and realised they were less amused than I was. Again.

Lord Blackadder, no less. 
‘I worked with him just last year. He’s a hit man from Munich called Klaus Gunter, and he once got lost in a strip club in Berlin... while sober,’ I added, trying to emphasise his inherent incompetence in an amusing way, much like Edmund Blackadder would. Only I wasn’t very good at it.   
‘So you’re saying this man is an idiot and couldn’t plan this?’ Asked Python and I nodded my agreement.

‘Much like Optimus Prime... There’s more to this than meets the eye...’          

So, there you have an exert of today's work.

More tonight and tomorrow... I hope. 

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