............................THE OSSIE-PLUMES

It is a balmy Sunday morning in San Francisco. The radio blares on as the Porsche Boxter S roars down Noe Valley. 106.7 ZRock FM serves and smashes Rihaana’s ‘Shut up and Drive’ raw and hot. However, Rihaana can’t shut David and Brenda up, as they sing and talk over the top, like two very raucous love-birds fawning over each other after a high- adrenaline, sizzling Saturday night.

“What a magnificent night babe,” David smiles from ear to ear, as he effortlessly screeches to a halt at the water fountain standing at the entrance of Brenda’s one-storey condominium.

There at the end of her street, David pushes that wayward strand of hair behind her ear and smiles. He wags her finger, winks and says “Baby, stay home, do you laundry and be a good girl. You need the rest after yesterday’s heavy-duty passion and action. (winks) I’ll be out of here and back in no time.” Brenda looks into his eyes, happy tears blurring her vision, “You’re my pillar of strength and support- my well of happiness, fortitude and dynamism. I hope I make the right decision. Making it overnight is shelving it as a worst case scenario, but I know I can make it anyways.”

David had never been the counter-emotional type. He altered his tone to a teasing one, “The prognosis for the day is that you’re going to have a lazy day ahead. Go warm your butt. (Smiles)”

Brenda hugs him tight and gets out of the car. She waves to him, as he zooms out of sight. She walks into her home, kicks her stilettos into the air, puts on some loud music and decides to get real lazy.

She changes into her favorite night pajamas that smelled of flowers, from the Tide Simple Pleasures Detergent. She walks to the liquor cabinet: pours herself a glass of Zinfandel and fills her plate with the Potato Stroganoff hot from the hamburger helper her maid Maria had made her.

After the relaxed self wining and dining, she moves to the attic. “Maybe, I should pull out some old stuff, and feel good about old times,” she twitters to herself.

A cardboard box hidden in a dusty corner catches her attention. She opens it, only to find a gob of golden cookbooks collected over the years. A big blue diary catches her attention.

Her breath gets stuck in her throat as she looks at the two ostrich feathers glued atop the diary. As a six year old, when she’d been to the 600 acre Rooster Cogburn’s Ostrich Ranch on the Picacho Peak, she’d taken these two feathers as a keepsake, and filled in the dairy with marginalia of specialized ostrich egg and meat recipes, and childish doodles of the huge ostrich egg and the gummy Ostrich Goulash she’d eaten.

She carries the blue diary with ostrich feathers to bed that night. She smiles and thinks of David. She had made her decision.

The door bell wakes her up in the morning. She gets the door in her night robe. David walks in, gives her a hug. “So what have you decided?”

“I’ve decided that the theme for the next month is going to be ‘ostriches’; we could call it ‘The Ossie Plumes’! We’ll have big ostrich feathers at the grand entrance and ostrich masks given to every guest who enters. Ostrich artifacts and sculptures shall be placed at every table. We’ll have a special ostrich-fan dance by the ‘Ostricia Girls’ at the special hour and an entire ‘Ostrich egg and meat’ special on the menu. To ring in some extra greens, we could also auction ostrich boas, handbags, head-gear, leather belts, bags, wallets and other fashion accessories. Media and celebrities from every walk of life shall be there for a sneak peak on the opening Saturday of the month………” “Fantabulous,” he says. “I knew you are the best Restaurant Concept-Moghul I could ever ask for. You and I, our partnership is going to ‘cook’ up more than all our head-chef could. ”

The previous night had been a just-opened- pressure-cooker: starry-eyed, hot and steamy, yet eased out and very much in-its-element.
Saturday night had been the opening night of ‘Cornucopia’, the most awaited restaurant of the year. David, the Restaurateur of the year 2007 had begun ‘Cornucopia’ with great aplomb- the theme of the restaurant was to have a new theme every month. David had hired Brenda as his Conceptualiser. The first month’s theme had been ‘Starry eyed’ with Hollywood stars and their favorite foods doing the rounds.

Welcome to Cornucopia. Fall in love with David, Brenda and their ostriches.
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Last week's Wordzzle Challenge by Raven:
Cardboard box, liquor cabinet, ostrich feathers, longitudinal, hamburger helper, partnership, laundry detergent, magnificent, San Francisco, prognosis
And for the Mini Challenge: worst case scenario, marginalia, water fountain, specialized, fortitude.

.............................THE CROWN OF THORNS

The drums rolled. Louder and louder.
The drum-roll was so loud; it awoke the dormant Darth Vader living within the sacerdotal priest. He was sleeping in his plush bed that stood against the wall of an otherwise sparse room of the ancient rectory.

The priest twisted and turned in his bed. He sweated profusely. Somewhere, an alley cat screeched an eerie mew. In his dreams, he walked down memory lane…

To that fateful night in the Florida Prison cell, where he was administering the last rights to the Death Row Convict #8, Robert Flamingo. Chained from head to toe, Robert still had that determinate cause popping his eye-veins. In a corner of the prison cell, there lay the crab-cakes with cucumber tartar sauce. Prior to execution, a Death Row convict could request his favorite last meal.

The last rites had to be done in three stages: first, penance for sins committed, then anointing with holy oil, followed by Viaticum (Holy Communion).

Robert Flamingo told the Priest, “I’m an honest Christian. I killed the Kingpin of the Gonzales Banking Fraud- a heartless Investment and Securities Fraud. My family and 100 other unsuspecting senior citizens lost our entire life savings, as we put them in the hands of Gonzales in the form of the Dakoita Investment Offering, in return for a stabilized income at 12% interest.

Stabilized income? We ended up losing our stability and I, my sanity. I went to Gonzales to talk things out, and probably look at some kind of compensation, but he was a snotty bastard dripping with sarcasm as to how the Government could procrastinate the proceedings in the Court of Law by letting him slip through those loopholes that they would willingly create, as a sign of returning the ‘favors’ they had had sought from the fraud in the first place. I lost my cool when I saw no signs of compromise, I fell bait to a heated argument: one that I was losing real bad.

Gonzales liked to flaunt his misplaced sense of religiosity and had a thurible at his desk; a desk he liked to call his altar. I assume he wished the holy smoke from the thurible would absolve him from his scandalous sins.

“You people are like the ‘Crown of Thorns’ on God’s head. I just removed the thorns and made God’s life easier. Your money is gone forever, just like the crown of thorns,” he jeered.

I couldn’t digest it: the contrasting, far-from-holy atrocity of his deeds. I took the thurible in hand, and in one swift blow, took a deathly swing at his surprised-as-hell head. The evil, scarlet blood oozed in a stead stream onto the white ‘altar’.
I spotted a Moses’ burning bush in his office. The sugar-sweet irony kissed my triumphant face: I mean the man had not obeyed a single commandment; and here was a Moses Bush! I’d never seen pietism and putridness get along this well. Moses would have turned in his grave. I walked to the bush, made a small ‘crown of thorns’ and left it on his bleeding head.

That’s my story father. And I accept this death penalty with all my heart. I’m one small thorn who is alright with being removed, when I know the red rose can still be preserved.”

The priest had a sheet-white expression. This man was an exemplary Jesus. He anointed him with holy Oil and gave him ‘The Holy communion’. He felt privileged administering the last rites.

As he was about the leave, Robert called to him. “Father, would you help me in keeping the red rose alive?”

The priest stumbled a little, and then said, “What can I do for your people?”

Robert replied: “There are three Monster Trucks parked in these five different Church yards where Gonzales used to send clothes, furniture and other knick-knacks to; as part of his ‘Christian Deeds’. I’ve loaded them with the money that I got to recover from this bloody scam. No police or Government has gotten there. No Church has opened these either. I just got them filled out with my men last night. These are the keys. Get the money to my people.”

The priest took the keys, walked out of the prison cell, and blessed the Guards at the Door.

That was two years ago.

He woke up with a start. The sheets were still wet with perspiration. He had aided and abetted a criminal.

Then, his heart beat slowed down.
He saw those happy faces. They’d gotten their life back.

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Raven's Wordzzle Challenge: assorted words-just make a story out of them!
I loved the challenge : so took it up :)

The words for last week's ten word challenge were: flamingo, monster trucks, Darth Vader, cucumbers, sugar-free, banking, determinate, thurible, sarcasm, drums And for the Mini Challenge: procrastinate, memory lane, alley cat, argument, Florida
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