Kissing Daredevil

        Fingering the shark tooth at his neck, Brady asked the ghost of Evel Knievel for a safe landing. In twenty minutes, he was scheduled to jump his jet-propelled motorcycle across the Grand Canyon.

        There was a knock on his trailer door. He opened it to discover his girlfriend on the step. “Charlotte!”  

        She rushed into his arms.  “I had to kiss you before you go.”

        Holding her close, he whispered. “Will you marry me?”

        She gasped. “When?”

        “Tonight, in Las Vegas.”

        She laughed. “What if you’re in a casket?”

        “Would you come to my funeral?”

        “Yeah, no!”

Let’s see what the others wrote with this prompt:  https://www.facebook.com/WonHundredWords/photos/a.1697701293793386.1073741827.1697271893836326/1907090512854462/?type=3&theater

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I'll Never Agree

        Three best-selling authors sat at the conference table. Hundreds of people had crowded into the room. Some stood by the door.

        Sarah Garcia, the only woman on the panel, sipped bottled water. What’s a nice introvert like me doing here?

        The moderator started the discussion. “What is your writing process?”

        The first two authors used outlines. One wrote summaries for each scene.

        Then it was Sarah’s turn. “My characters write the story.”

        The men smirked. “Characters are figments of your imagination,” one said.

        “They are real to me.”

        “Amateur.”

        “Even if you prove me wrong, I’ll never agree with you.”

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Cheeky Stowaway

        Who’s coming? Crouched in the cold, dark locker, Perce hoped he hadn’t been discovered. He kept absolutely still as the footsteps got louder.

        Suddenly the door swung open. “Jig’s up,” the sailor said.  

        Perce Blackborow fell forward. After hiding in the cramped locker for days, he couldn’t stand. He was dragged to a chair.

        Captain Shackleton scowled. “Do you know that on these expeditions we often get very hungry, and if there is a stowaway available, he is the first to be eaten?”

        “They’d get a lot more meat off you, sir.”

        Shackleton grinned. “Introduce him to the cook first.”

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Love Conquers All

        Prime Minister Baldwin paced the floor, waiting to be admitted. He had no choice but to offer the king an ultimatum. At last, Edward invited him into his office, and the prime minister began with a plea. “Don’t do it, Edward.”

        “I’m sorry it upsets you, but I’m marrying her.”

        Baldwin sighed. “She’s a divorced woman—an  American.”

        “I love her. I can’t live without her.”

        “You’ll have to abdicate the throne.”

        “Then I must.”

         “Love’s blind. It fades.” Baldwin waved his arms in desperation. “What did Shakespeare say?”

        Edward smiled. “The course of true love never did run smooth.”

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What Letter?

        “The prisoner will rise.”

        Chains at Sean’s wrists and ankles clanked as he stood to face the judge.

        “How do you plead?” Judge Witherspoon asked. He wore a curly wig that shed white powder on his black robe.

        “Not guilty, your honor.” Sean glanced about the courtroom, hoping to see a friend.

        His accuser glared back, a farmer named Paddy O’Toole.  “He stole my best milk cow.”

        “What proof do you have?” the judge asked.

        “The letter.”

        Judge Witherspoon shuffled through the papers on his desk. “What letter?”

        “Plain as day. The “C” on his forehead where Bessie kicked him.”

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Who Did It?

        Ma’s fingers shook as she dialed 911. “Send an ambulance to 510 Clay Street,” she pled in a hurried whisper. “My husband just fell down the stairs. He’s eighty-eight.”

        “She pushed me!” Pa shouted. He sat on the bottom step holding a towel to his forehead.

        “Is he bleeding?” the dispatcher asked.

        “He cut his head, but no bones are broken.  He was unconscious when I found him”

        Pa shouted louder. “She pushed me!”

        “Who pushed him?”

        Ma covered the phone. “Hush, Ernie. He heard you.”

        “So what? I’ll tell the whole world.  Hillary Clinton pushed me down the stairs!”

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What Did She Bury?

        “Come here, girl,” the blue coat shouted.

        Betsy ran, but not fast enough. The Yankee captain grabbed her arm and spun her around.

        “Let go of me, you beast!” Her heart beat faster than a Kentucky race horse.

        “Sweetheart, what did you bury in the garden?”

        When she struggled, he pressed her against his chest. “Don’t try to deny it, sweetie. The ground is fresh turned.”

        “The old dog.” She spat in his face.

        He swore, shoving her away. “I don’t believe you.”

        “Dig it up, yourself. I was afraid your soldiers would eat it. They’ve eaten everything else.”

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