At a writers meeting, we wrote a piece based on the “interruptions” game. Lauren gave us a starting prompt, and each of us did a piece of free writing. Every few minutes Lauren interrupted us with another prompt until the last and then time was called… Then we read out our pieces.
Unfortunately my tablet chose to “die” before I could ‘complete’. But that’s a great excuse to post my piece to my blog. Here’s mine, with the “interruptions” in bold…
It was all going quite well until the taller of the two robots appeared to nod his head towards his compatriot and mouth “He doesn’t eat curry.” “Well that’s good because we only have fish tonight. And we’re fresh out of curry sauce.”
“What did he say?” said the one who squeaked most of the time. “Ask him to speak up.”
The taller shiny one said “I’m sorry. He doesn’t get out much. I’m Norman and he’s St John, by the way.”
Norman turned his head slightly and yelled at St John “He said… they don’t have any curry. Mostly fish!”
Then to me Norman said, “I do hope that wasn’t too loud for you. I notice you have the new Apple ears and I understand they’re remarkably sensitive. Are they quite as good as people say?”
“Absolutely the bees knees. Get yourself some ASAP. I think they’re on a par…”
But before I could finish St John said “Why did he say that was a strange place to park a car?”
Norman started shouting again. “I didn’t St John. And could I say, would it be appropriate for me to say, I am just getting a teensy weeny bit irritated about you coming out tonight and not wearing your hearing aids.” he paused for breath “I did ask you to, didn’t I? And you promised.”
The squeaky android, St John, departed into a burble of subsonic squelches and high pitched beeps, while making some adjustments to a dial under a flap on the right side of his breastplate. Then punctuated by further burbles and squeaks, he said “If you ever, EVER talk to me like that again, I will have you posted to the farthest star from Alpha Centauri reported by any supersonic space ranger charting the farthest reaches of the 900th galaxy. Now, get me another Snake-Blood or I’ll take your oh so fashionable Google glasses off your stupid face and grind them into a thin stream of silicon.” He started up a loud grinding tool from a belt waving it in a threatening manner at Norman.
This was becoming a little worrying. “You must excuse me” I said, “I’ll check with Chef. I’m sure its mainly fish tonight but we may have something with a bit more of a kick. I remember him saying we might have some horse in or he may have just been on one of his short lived hobby horses. Ha ha ha! if you’d forgive my little joke.”
I stepped outside the small antechamber I’d taken the pair into for a few pre-prandial drinks, from where I was planning to head for the kitchen, but then I decided to stop and listen to them a little longer. Always a good idea I find, if your guests turn out to be volatile.
Low-pitched bot Norman rumbled “You know he’s beginning to bore me, just a little. Well actually quite a lot. What’s the preoccupation with matters equestrian, for a start off?”
“I know what you mean” St John squeaked. “I mean, where are the women? We came here for a night of sybaritic pleasure and no totty about. Not a sausage. I was so looking forward to putting the pedal to the metal, if you know what I mean.”
“Bunch of pooftahs you’re thinking aren’t you?”
“You have the measure of me Norman, as ever.”
“I know how your mind works, St John.”
“Listen… about before…”
“No. Please. Say nothing. I completely understand. You have so much on your plate these days. If it’s not the Gariodnids on Sparta 4, it’s those damned settlers on Iscio. It’s no wonder that occasionally…”
“Oh I know, it’s more than occasionally St John…”
“Norman, no, please say nothing more. I can see how it is for you. I know it’s hard.”
“Hard? You don’t know the half of it…”
“Here… Have you ever had some of this. No? Bot, just take a hit on this. It’ll blow your exproprioceptive sensors!”
I decided it was safe to leave them alone now, and check on culinary possibilities for the evening.