Effing Feline declares independence #wewriwa

Photos: DepositPhotos

I, Effing Feline, complained about not being able to open cat food cans . . . but Twiggles the Dog laughed at my complaint. She said pets like us get food in exchange for love, loyalty, and a pledge to defend our beloved owners with our own lives if necessary.

But I am NOT a subservient idiot like Twiggles. I lay down my life for no man — and I’m such an intelligent cat that I know of a way for me to become completely independent!

You see, I’ve heard Ed and Judi discuss their early marriage, when they had five acres in Canada and grew much of their own food. So I ordered the book Five Acres and Independence: A Handbook for Small Farm Management. Smart of me, eh? Soon I’ll be dependent on no one. It’s absolutely brilliant.

Now a word from our sponsor, The Solid Gold AliensTresky Buffrum is a naive young shepherd from the mountains of planet Jones. When he visits the Jones’s largest city, seeking adventure, he meets Ebbril and marries her the very next day.

But on his wedding night in the Spaceport Hotel, she gets him drunk. He awakens in an open-sided hovel in a place called The Happy Louse Inn. Here he is the next morning.

He emerged, squinting, into sunlight.

Pain exploded as a man slammed into him. When Tresky groaned, the man spun around as though insulted. Tresky backed away and bumped into a woman who hissed at him. This place was as busy as Market Square.

No, it was Market Square. There was the three-story clock tower. Beyond it stood the distant spire of the Spaceport Hotel, its concrete walls shimmering with holographic images of Sloths turned into golden statues. How had he gotten from there to here?

In a wheelbarrow, apparently.

Effing Feline here again. Twiggles (drat her deadly doggy breath!) just reminded me that I don’t have five acres. And that I’m a carnivore. Growing beans and carrots would never make me independent.

Sigh.

Be sure to visit the other great writers in Weekend Writing Warriors and Snippet Sunday.

PS — Anyone want to buy an unread copy of Five Acres and Independence?

The Solid Gold Aliens

For 500 years, the aliens were no threat. But they were just waiting . . .

All Tresky Buffrum wants is a taste of adventure before resigning himself to the simple life of a shepherd.  What he gets instead is a mysterious wife, fiercely chaste, who drags him to a trek to the Midas Crater where some of the planet’s intelligent natives have been transformed into gold.

Everyone on their caravan has an ulterior motive — except Tresky, who just wants to make love to his wife. Spies are everywhere. An Offworlder hero runs mad and murders people. A grim policewoman becomes attracted to Tresky while struggling to capture the psychotic sniper.

Observing this bizarre trek across the desert is an old, mute, lion-like alien. After befriending Tresky despite the taboos, Virtrillica seeks a reason for her people to spare humanity from a war of extinction. Can the two of them save humankind and defeat the interplanetary conspirators who seek to destroy the Midas Crater and its sinister yet liberating secret?

31 comments

  1. Author Jessica E. Subject · · Reply

    Doesn’t sound like he’s having a good morning at all.

    1. Some mornings are like that, right? You might as well pull the covers back over your head and go back to sleep.

  2. Hmmm… Not the most auspicious beginning to a marriage. lol

    Poor Effing. Drat–foiled again. 🙂

    1. Effing’s schemes frequently come to naught, and the world’s a better place for it.

  3. So many questions. I’m curious to know the answers, too.

    1. Thanks for stopping by, Karen!

  4. Emily Wrayburn · · Reply

    I really feel how out of his element he is in this scene, being knocked around like that. And that last line gave me a laugh. 😀

    1. He’s out of his element *and* hung over, which makes it worse.

  5. Talk about a stranger in a strange land. And where will he even begin to look for his “bride”? He’s got a huge task ahead of him. Not quite what one wishes when one has a hangover.

    Effing–But just think of all the field mice you could catch on a 5 acre tract! Then you’d just need to build a better mouse trap! 🙂

    1. Effing would never admit it for all to see, but he’s never, ever caught a mouse!

  6. Besides bumping into people, I suspect he has a headache. lol

    1. Yes, he’s not feeling at his best.

  7. A hangover is never a nice thing. But to be brought back in a wheelbarrow. Yikes.
    Tweeted.

    1. The poor lad really overindulged last night.

  8. In a wheelbarrow. The man has been had. Sounds like there will be lots of good humor and adventure in this one!

    1. I’m not sure Tresky would agree about his situation being good humor.

  9. Maybe he should go back to his flock and forget all this adventure nonsense?

    1. But then I’d have no book!

  10. He’s in so much trouble…which I guess he’s starting to understand! Great snippet, I felt his pain, bumping into people etc.

    1. He’s about to devise a plan to deal with his troubles, though it’s not much of a plan.

  11. Cathy Brockman · · Reply

    Twigged and Effing are so funny! Great post.

    1. Thanks. Twiggles, who usually comes out on the short end of confrontations with Effing, is feeling really proud of herself right about now.

  12. Elaine Cantrell · · Reply

    Got there in a wheelbarrow. Golly, he’s in trouble.

    1. Yes he’s in deep trouble.

  13. Hey, Ed, you were great with setting. I could picture everything vividly.

    Keep smiling,
    Yawatta

    1. In truth, I wasn’t smiling . . . but your comment made me do so.

  14. Diane Burton · · Reply

    What a morning! Poor Tresky. He must be really hung over.

    1. To say nothing of disconsolate, discourage, and angry,

  15. Cara Hartley · · Reply

    WordPress isn’t playing nice today. Sorry if this is a duplicate comment.
    Tresky is certainly in a pickle. Which gave me an idea for Effin. He could plant his crops in window boxes. He could grow little cucumbers and make pickles!
    ~Cie from Naughty Netherworld Press~

  16. Surely he wasn’t pushed the whole way in a wheelbarrow. I hope he’s able to find something useful to retrace last night’s steps.

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