Good day to you all.
I have crafted a story for you that is exactly 500 words (excluding the title).
I always get a nice warm glow inside when this happens, it feels like I have used every single world and syllable to its maximum potential.
Or I’m just a flukey dude – it’s all gravy, baby!
The prompt for this one came to me when my brother Morrison (yes after Jim Morrison, cool huh?) was discussing a recent holiday trip and how pickpockets could be a potential threat if you weren’t careful.
Real life eh? The best prompt of all for creative work!
Enjoy the story.
Beating Them At Their Own Game (by David Ellis)
“Every time I go on holiday they rip me off, my wallet always gets pinched, everyone is a potential thief. They all steal from me. Not today!”
Jacob was going to be ready this time round.
Last time on his hols, a young hooligan had pretended to be drunk, kicked off an argument with a few people, then bumped into him, before apologising, running off with a far steadier gait of someone who wasn’t really drunk at all but who had certainly appeared to be at the time and half-inched his wallet.
(What’s the world coming to when you can’t trust a young hooligan to be drunk or even mildly inebriated? They were a better class of hooligan in my day; they certainly knew how to disrespect their elders, let me tell you).
Jacob whipped out his spare credit card he had for emergencies, bought a replacement wallet and then twenty seconds later, another young ruffian had spilt milk on him. They cleaned it off, then quickly cleared off and he’d been cleaned out again – somebody was milking it, that’s for sure but they would have been sour to learn nothing was in there.
“A small victory but a victory none the less I suppose.” He mused.
This gave Jacob an idea – “Why don’t I beat them at their own game!”
He carefully wrote a list on the back of his grocery shopping list (because he liked to recycle):-
1. Plastic whistle in case I’m attacked (don’t want to set any airport metal detectors off).
2. Bun bag for my wallet, strapped to my back, with a small padlock.
3. Spare cash cellotaped to my leg under my sock (another good place is in my boxers that I’m wearing. In the front not the back of course, I’m not a drug mule).
4. A cheap, disposable mobile phone.
5. The Encyclopaedia Britannica (in case I need to look anything up because my cheap mobile doesn’t get the internet).
6. A helmet to prevent my bonce being bashed in if I am mugged. I can wear it all the time on holiday and pretend I’m a cyclist.
7. A fake Kindle (not for any reason other than for my own amusement if it’s stolen).
8. My camera in a large, elegant cake box. Smeared in cake. Then any would be thieves will think it is a camera cake. “The camera never lies.” Oh, the irony!
9. Bulky bicycle chain – might as well hire out a bike , I will be wearing a helmet all the time.
10. Various assorted Styrofoam balls, rags and other soft objects to keep everything from bashing about in transit.
He had thought of everything – he felt like a genius.
“At last – finished!” He exclaimed, his suitcase now virtually bulging and stuffed to the gills.
Nothing had been left to chance – no-one was going to get the better of him this time.
“Now…”Jacob pondered thoughtfully,“where am I meant to fit all my clothes….”
You still here? NB* A camera cake does exist! This is where I got the idea – check it out here:-