(no subject)

[serene]

It's all elissaann's fault, this post
to the contrary.

Writing contest

Write a very short story (less than one page), ending with the line:
"and that's why I ate the pint of Ben & Jerry's"

I'll figure out the prizes later, but I'm leaning toward toffee, since
that's what I do, is lean toward toffee.

Comments

Okay

[calebbullen.livejournal.com]

Once upon a time someone told me to write a really short story ending with the line: "And that's why I ate the pint of Ben & Jerry's". So I did. And that's why I ate the pint of Ben & Jerry's.

Re: Okay

[serenejournal.livejournal.com]

Silly person.

[zpdiduda.livejournal.com]

He was more beautiful than Michelangelo's David. Hell, he was nothing short of the god Apollo, all burnished curls and dark, smoldering eyes and the most beautiful set of shoulders I'd ever seen. And that voice, oh, that voice. An Italian accent will get me every time. He could read the phone book to me and I know I'd just wet my pants.

If only he would notice me.

He was the bartender at Francesco's, the cozy little Italian place around the corner from my office. Every day at noon, I'd sit in the corner deli next to Francesco's and wait for him to pass by on his way to work. I would study his face, his clothes, the things he carried. I would imagine stroking the skin under the thin fabric of his shirt. I would imagine how strong his arms would feel around me, how hard the muscles of his thighs would feel as he pressed up against me.

He never caught my gaze as he walked by the window. He seemed unaware of my very existence. Until last week.

I sat in the sunlight streaming through the deli window, eating my typical lunchtime salad. I must have been more immersed than usual in my novel, because when I looked up he was already there by the window, almost right next to me. And he was looking at me, right at me.

He smiled at me. A smile so dazzling it put the sunlight to shame.

My heart skipped a beat or three. I gasped involuntarily. I thought: "Smile back, you fool!"

In the millisecond it took for my conscious mind to prepare my most winning smile, my hand dropped to the table --- and struck the handle of my fork, which until then had been wallowing in the salad bowl. The business end of the fork shot up like the end of a seesaw, flinging a good-sized portion of Italian dressing straight into my right eye.

"AAAAACCCCKKKKKKKK!!!!!", I shrieked, as vinegar and pepper and Goddess knows what else burned into my retina. "OOOoaaaack!!" I couldn't see. I couldn't open my eye. Someone shoved a glass of water into my hand -- the deli manager, as it turned out -- and I blindly dipped my hand into the glass and tried to splash water into my eye. I groped for my napkin, for the end of my shirt, anything to get the poison out of my eye. I could feel water and eye makeup running down the neck of my shirt.

I don't know how long it took for me to get the eye open. I only remember looking out through bleary, tear- and mascara-streaked pain, blinking violently, only to see...Apollo. He had stopped stock-still on the other side of the glass. He stood there staring at me in utter bewilderment. He clearly had no idea what had caused my little seizure on the other side of the glass. I blinked at him, tears running down my face, and tried to smile again. He shook his head and walked slowly away, looking back periodically, most likely to ensure that I wasn't following him.

And that's why I ate the pint of Ben & Jerrys.

Okay

[sailorjim.livejournal.com]

“I’ll have a pint of the dark … how about you, Sailor?”

Sailor Jim looked dourly at the taps in front of him, proudly proclaiming the house brand of Gerries Dark. “What? That crap? I’d rather drink water!”

A startled hush ran through the small bar and the bartender oh-so-casually leaned across the counter, one hand under the bar, and softly asked, “Water? In me own establishment, then?”

The sailor raised both hands and quickly put in an order for Cognac and Diet Coke, an odd enough tipple that most of the bar quickly forgot his momentary blasphemy and went on with the business of drinking. While they quietly waited, his guest took advantage of the sailor’s uncustomary silence to ask, “And what’s wrong with Gerries, Jim?”

The older man looked up and shrugged. “Oh, nothing, really … I just ‘ate the owner of that particular brewery and refuse to put one stinking dime into ‘is pocket.” Seeing the look on the younger man’s face, Sailor Jim sighed. “Fine … I’ll tell you the entire silly story.

“Not many people know this, but I used to dabble in the brewing arts as a younger man, going so far as to take classes at the local college on ‘ow to manufacture the stuff. I don’t, and didn’t, have any real taste for the nasty dreck, mind. It’s just that I’d read ‘ow micro-breweries were going to be the next big moneymaker and wanted to get in on the ground floor.

“It was in one of these classes that I first met Benjamin Nathanial Gerries. We took the same bus and chatted before class began, which is how I discovered ‘e was only in it for the money as well. Well, we ‘it it off right from the start, seeing that we were the only sane people in the room (the rest being beer drinkers), and – after a couple of classes – I let Ben in on my big idea for a new beer.

“Beer that was fresh, right from the taps! I won’t bother going into the details (especially since a judge placed a gag order on me talking about any aspect of the process), but you know the basic idea: A small brewery installed in every bar licensed to sell Gerries by the pint. The stuff sits in it’s raw ingredients under the bar until the bartender ‘its the taps, then … well, I can’t really say how, but the beer is brewed, force aged, and chilled in seconds, coming out of the tap fresher than any other pint. (This is one thing I can say, Shipmate … never buy Gerries by anything but the pint, since the process won’t work for anything larger!)

“Long story short, ‘e stole the entire idea and everything I’d figured out up to then and dropped out of class. Next thing I know, ‘e’s ‘ead of the biggest moneymaker ever to ‘it pubs and no court in the land can do a damn thing about it!”

“And that’s why I ‘ate the pint of Ben N. Gerries!”

Re: Okay

[serenejournal.livejournal.com]

*applause*

Very Asimovian!

[serenejournal.livejournal.com]

*wild cheering*

Wow, you people are great!

[maestrodog.livejournal.com]

The night was sultry and warm, the kind of night where the air was thick enough to slice with a knife, yet had the same eerie quality that made it almost magical with abundance of cricket song and flashing fireflies.

Slowly, I guided my lover, a large luscious woman, toward the secluded, secret water hole behind the forest clearing. Though a hot and passionate lovemaking session had only culminated mere hours before, my appetite for her was insatiable. I wanted her again, and very badly. She knew what I was thinking, and smiled at the bulge in my swim trunks I'd worn for mere formality, somehow visible to her despite the night. I could see the lustful gleam in her eyes in the moonlight, the smile on her lips, and I felt her breathe quickly with anticipation as we neared the area.

I pulled her into the tent I had set up earlier in the day for this very purpose, effectively shutting out the mosquitoes for my lover's comfort. I removed my swim trunks, letting myself spring free to full glory and the delight of my wonderful lover. I smiled at her and asked her to undress and lay down, which she did quickly and without question.

Dramatically, as if unveiling the world's most precious work of art, I reached over to the cooler beside and retrieved the sweet treat from the mostly-molten pool of ice inside. I slowly popped off the top of the carton, dipped my finger and began to paint my lover with the cold chocolate ice cream. She shuddered from the sudden coolness but it was obvious she enjoyed the sensation. "Oh yes," she moaned, "that feels so wonderful. I want you to taste every inch of me." Happily I obliged, alternately dipping, painting, and licking the Ben & Jerry's off every part of my lover's body...her savory lips, breasts, legs, fingers, and even her feet and toes. I used the whole pint on her large voluptuousness, and I tell you, I've never had a sweeter treat in my whole life! Afterwards we headed out to skinny dip, where as the warm water washed the last traces of chocolate ice cream off my lovers skin, I knew I would want her yet again...and that next time we had an encounter like this I would be eager to try another flavor.

And that's why I ate a pint of Ben & Jerry's.

[serenejournal.livejournal.com]

First reaction: "Oh, my, did it just get hot in here?"

Second reaction: "spring free to full glory???" *giggle*

[serenejournal.livejournal.com]

And by the way, thank you!

[maestrodog.livejournal.com]

And what better to go with a pint of Ben & Jerry's than some trashy erotica? *grin*.

[serenejournal.livejournal.com]

Abso-fucking-lutely. I loved it. :-)

[vito-excalibur.livejournal.com]

but I'm leaning toward toffee, since
that's what I do, is lean toward toffee.

Ooh, I like you so much. :)

[clever-doberman.livejournal.com]

*splashing a bucket of cold water on my head to cool off*

whew!

this is the best so far, both for integrating the ice cream into the story and for sheer excitement in story-telling.

thanks for the contest!