Tuesday Tales 29!
Challenge #29 By entering, every contestant agrees to shamelessly promote and praise the winner on twitter.
For all discussions about this challenge use hash tag #TuesdayTales
Please give a shout out to this week’s Tuesdaytales judge:
@JonathonVolkmer
Our judge is challenging us this week with a awesome sauce word!
Secret Word:
CANARD
noun.
1. a false, baseless, usually derogatory story, report, or rumor
2. a duck intended for cooking
3. an aircraft in which the tailplane is mounted in front of the wing
Picture:
ON WITH THE TALES!
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Posted in: Tuesday Tales
LupusAnthropos
February 21, 2012
“Well, if I want it done correctly, I’ll have to do it myself!”
“Something wrong, Margo?”
“Jerry, can you imagine something so asinine or that someone would actually do it?”
“Imagine what? Do what?”
“Ruined the dinner party is what. Get the car. I’LL have to do this, if we’re to have ANY dinner tonight.”
“WHO ruined the party? How?
“Why, Ned, of course. See THAT?”
“That’s just an old model aeroplane. Why on earth would you want that?”
“That’s the point: I need a canard to roast for dinner. I sent Ned to market and he returned with THAT.”
100 Words
@LupusAnthropos
Nellie
February 21, 2012
“JANE!”
The door to her apartment was kicked open.
She looked at the busted door and then at the large man who took up the entire doorway. “Sheer. What’s up?”
“What did you tell the fae such a canard about me! I have helped you many a time and this is how you repay me?” He held up a beaten up wooden plane. “I looked all over and the phooka told me that you said this was junk.” Big tears welled up in the stone fae’s eyes.
“I didn’t say that. The Phooka were lying. It’s a grand ol’ plane.”
100 words
@solimond
Juan Pablo Hurtado
February 21, 2012
The Canard Rouillé soars through the skies, its dragon of a cannon ripping smoky holes in wing, hull and tail.
Ratatata-Boom!
Casualties mount.
Its engine purrs contentedly; no bird up in these clear blue stretches can match its brio and celerity.
Twin spurts from an unseen assailant threaten its underbelly, but miss. It performs a barrel roll, throttles down and comes up behind the would-be attacker, ready to…
Screams pierce the sunny morning, followed by the rumble of treads on gravel and drumfire.
The illusion shatters. The boy forgets the Rusty Duck and runs inside.
The Panzerwaffe arrives.
-O-
100 words, @righteousgeek
Jeffrey Hollar
February 21, 2012
Flight Of Not-So-Fancy
Eunice’s financial excesses forced Stanley to
make do with a cobbled-together travesty
of an aircraft that looked like hell and flew
erratically at best. Built entirely of scrap
and bits of refuse, Eunice had scant cause
to complain of any cost.
She brutally mocked his miniature creation
whenever possible. “Off to fritter with your
Rolls Canardly then? Daft thing can ‘ardly
roll along the ground let alone fly!”
The morning Stanley’d finally had enough,
he crashed his beloved plane into the
propane tank outside their home. He
lamented the loss of his mechanical friend
far more than he did Eunice.
100 words. @klingorengi
Donna B. McNicol (@DonnaBMcNicol)
February 21, 2012
‘Cause I Said So
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
“Is so.”
“Is not.”
“You don’t know ‘nuthin.”
“I know more than you, dummy.”
“Don’t call me a dummy!” David shuffled his feet, pushing the busted and rusted toy. “You’re stupid. I heard Mrs. Miller talking to your mom and she said you were the stupidest kid in her class.”
Joey felt the prickling start in his eyes. No, I won’t cry. I’m not stupid, I don’t care what they think. He picked up his precious airplane before David could kick it again. “I can read a dictionary and this plane is a canard.” He proudly walked away, back straight.
100 word count @DonnaBMcNicol
Corgzilla
February 21, 2012
Riftflights
~~~~~~~~~~~
Amelia’s blouse clung to her skin and sweat plastered her hair to her scalp. Mosquitoes buzzed without cease by her ears, held at bay by the fine mesh hung from her hat.
“We found something!” came the cry from deeper in the jungle undergrowth.
She plunged into the greenery. One of her guides clutched a small airplane in his hands. Amelia knew it was no toy, she knew what happened when things encountered the Rift. “It’s not Harry’s. That’s not his canard,” she said sadly.
“Who is it then?” someone wondered.
“I don’t know. But we’ll bring him home too.”
@ModernBard1024
100 words
Nancy P.
Charles W Jones (@ChuckWesJ)
February 21, 2012
“I told the neighbors we are having canard for dinner.”
“You are such a liar.” She glared at me. I knew the look in her eye meant she was going to start into a rant. “Why would you do that? It’s like you have to have some story going around about you to make you look better. Like that stupid story you made up about that sorry, rusted out airplane with the tailplane in front of the main wings. You’re such an idiot, nothing like that could ever fly.”
“What’s for dinner then?”
“Duck,” she winked.
I shook my head.
@ChuckWesJ
100 Words
Toni Wyatt
February 21, 2012
“Did you hear the rumor about Spanky?” asked the porter, as he stood watching the ducks swim in the hotel pond.
“I did. It’s a shame. He’s given up a life in the wild for this hotel. I heard the cook wants him brought to the kitchen today after his swim, and all for some visiting diplomat,” said the doorman.
Spanky didn’t see the doorman wink at the porter.
They’re gonna cook my goose, he thought.
Looking across the road at the airport terminal, he decided it was time to take flight on the next canard departing.
Off he flew.
@Toni1777
100 Words
Toni Wyatt
February 21, 2012
Whoops, Spanky became Sparky. Too much caffeine today.
Sheilagh Lee
February 21, 2012
“Did you interrogate him? “
“He insists his name is Henry Canard.”
“Nonsense! Henry Canard was the designer of the ancient wooden plane he was flying and over hundred years old.”
“Yes that’s what I said but he insists he was flying through a cloud saw brilliant lights and ended up here.”
“He’s lucky we escorted him to the base instead of shooting him down.”
“I think he’s telling the truth.”
“Why?”
“First came the Aurora Borealis, then his plane.”
“So he’s really Canard?”
“Yes.”
“How am I going to write this up?”
“Model plane?”
“That works let him go.”
100 words
@SweetSheil
rastrohman
February 21, 2012
The small boy quivered under the glare of Roland. He held in his tiny hands a model airplane, an old rusted thing that his grandfather had given to him.
“Thierry, your teacher says you are not doing well in school.”
He said nothing, fearful of the man.
“Is she telling me a canard? Is she lying?”
“No, father. It’s just, well, the words and letters are jumbled.”
“Nonsense, boy. Try harder instead of playing with those damn games and toys!”
He nodded and slinked away, tears burgeoning. He was old enough to know of dyslexia, but his father didn’t care.
100 words
@rastrohman
J. Whitworth Hazzard
February 21, 2012
DEFENSE SPENDING
“Well, what do you think?” Scott asked General Porter. “I know it looks rough, but it’s just a prototype.”
The Air Force General stroked his mustache, “CANARD, you say? What does it do?”
“Certified Anomalous Noise Attractive Reconnaissance Dummy. Ok, get this,” Scott waved his arms in the air, “you get a bunch of CANARDs and chuck them in over enemy positions and they make rude noises. Farting, belching, puking, and then..”
“Then while they laugh their asses off…” General Porter smirked.
Scott laughed maniacally and thumbed the red button, “You blow the shit out of ‘em like this!”
BOOM!
100 words
@zombiemechanics
eliserae
February 21, 2012
YES
Because when the original definition isn’t good enough you just make up your own.
Awesome!
eliserae
February 21, 2012
RUST
The aircraft was an old thing in bad need of repair. The engine ran, sure, but it’d lived in a museum for a while now. Now the world was going to hell and there was nothing else. The other ships were burned and trashed- shiny components destroyed by the alien technology. Only the canard that could slip past shields undetected. They fitted on to it a missile big enough to take out the old Texas. If only they hadn’t regarded the original report on the approaching ships as junk… if only…
It all rested on rusted wings now.
100 words
@hammer_and_nail
Kelly
February 21, 2012
The valley sparkled with mangled airplane parts. Sophie Jenkins-Jessup moaned, collected her long skirts, and shook the dirt off.
“Mr. Andrews!” she yelled.
“Ma’am.”
“You said you could fly this canard.”
“I can, Miss.”
“Mrs.” she corrected. “Mrs. Jenkins-Jessup of the Boston Jenkins’ and married to Homer Jessup of Philadelphia, and you’d best learn your place! My husband will tear your heart out when he finds out what you’ve done!”
Mr. Andrews smiled, his eyes twinkling. “Mrs. Jenkins- Jessup, I dare say your husband could care less.”
He pulled a gun from his belt, aimed at her heart, and fired.
100 words
@ohthatmomagain
David A Ludwig
February 22, 2012
She needed a pocket of calm to retreat from the turbulence of the Saturday market. Selena pressed her ears to her head and breathed deeply.
“You’re not buying that canard, are you?” Amelia’s voice pierced Selena’s bubble, bringing more peace than Selena had made for herself.
“Which one?” Selena smiled bitterly at her friend, hefting a raw duck in one hand and wooden airplane in the other. “I promised Dearna I’d get her something special, and we need to eat.”
Shaking her head, Amelia placed a hand on Selena’s elbow, “I meant the newspaper review. You sang beautifully last night.”
100 words
@DavidALudwig