Saturday Bonus "caught between horror and mirth" take two
Reusing Wednesday's Words, phrase and image.
Amid great fanfare, the beaming politician cut the shiny red ribbon and ushered an excited group of fifty people onto the newly constructed bridge across the ravine. If they'd walked across in ones and twos, things might have been fine, at least for a few months.
But a group of fifty well-fed, pampered, upper-class snobs was too much weight for the shoddy workmanship and sub-standard timbers used in construction. As the group neared the middle, the bridge began to sway and loud creaks and groans were heard as timbers began to crack. First one and then another support broke loose.
Watching the event unfolding before her eyes triggered memories of the slapstick movies she used to watch all those years ago. Caught between horror and mirth, Muriel laughed hysterically as the group on the bridge collided with one another in a desperate bid to outrun their doom. The bridge gave way and the tangle of arms and legs became individual people once more as they dropped screaming into the ravine.
Forgetting she held an ice cream cone, she reached down and grabbed a fistful of raggedy skirt to wipe her tearing eyes. Seeing the blob of pink ice cream plopping onto the grass only made her cackle louder. The hysteria overtook her and Muriel laughed and cried in great braying sobs and giggles as her mind gave way just as the bridge had.
She didn't notice as people around her began moving away silently, fearfully. Someone made a phone call and a path was cleared for paramedics. Muriel didn't feel the sting of the needle as she was sedated, didn't feel the tightness of the straps that held her to the stretcher, didn't see the disdain on people's faces as this poor wretch was taken away to the psychiatric ward.
Their attention turned back to the tragedy, their planned picnic romp forgotten as they silently watched helicopters and ambulances trying to retrieve the bodies of the fallen. The once beaming politician stood in shock, his face frozen in horror as another of the paramedics tried to lead him away from the edge of the ravine.
Blissfully unaware, the Mayor's bulldog continued to catch water droplets from the new drinking fountain.
Amid great fanfare, the beaming politician cut the shiny red ribbon and ushered an excited group of fifty people onto the newly constructed bridge across the ravine. If they'd walked across in ones and twos, things might have been fine, at least for a few months.
But a group of fifty well-fed, pampered, upper-class snobs was too much weight for the shoddy workmanship and sub-standard timbers used in construction. As the group neared the middle, the bridge began to sway and loud creaks and groans were heard as timbers began to crack. First one and then another support broke loose.
Watching the event unfolding before her eyes triggered memories of the slapstick movies she used to watch all those years ago. Caught between horror and mirth, Muriel laughed hysterically as the group on the bridge collided with one another in a desperate bid to outrun their doom. The bridge gave way and the tangle of arms and legs became individual people once more as they dropped screaming into the ravine.
Forgetting she held an ice cream cone, she reached down and grabbed a fistful of raggedy skirt to wipe her tearing eyes. Seeing the blob of pink ice cream plopping onto the grass only made her cackle louder. The hysteria overtook her and Muriel laughed and cried in great braying sobs and giggles as her mind gave way just as the bridge had.
She didn't notice as people around her began moving away silently, fearfully. Someone made a phone call and a path was cleared for paramedics. Muriel didn't feel the sting of the needle as she was sedated, didn't feel the tightness of the straps that held her to the stretcher, didn't see the disdain on people's faces as this poor wretch was taken away to the psychiatric ward.
Their attention turned back to the tragedy, their planned picnic romp forgotten as they silently watched helicopters and ambulances trying to retrieve the bodies of the fallen. The once beaming politician stood in shock, his face frozen in horror as another of the paramedics tried to lead him away from the edge of the ravine.
Blissfully unaware, the Mayor's bulldog continued to catch water droplets from the new drinking fountain.
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Oh my; what a surprising tale River... the personal tragedy as riveting and mesmerising as the public. Very well done!
ReplyDeleteI'd go all hysterical, too. No one knows what to do in such a tragedy.
ReplyDeleteHadn't anyone watched Indiana Jones?
Poor Muriel. In its own way, her response made as much sense as the bulldog's.
ReplyDeleteHave a super weekend!
Sadly, I am with Muriel.
ReplyDeleteLove your take two. Thanks.
Very different from your usual offerings, but I loved it!!
ReplyDeleteOh wow.....what a fantastic job. Poor Muriel.....I feel for her.
ReplyDeleteWell that was different but very good and I had a laugh, I guess I'm a bit nasty.
ReplyDeleteMerle.............
This certainly is another spin on things. I hope I don't drop my ice cream later; and don't get carted off afterwards!!
ReplyDeleteJacquelineand....thank you very much. I wasn't at all sure how this would turn out.
ReplyDeleteSusan Kane; too true, when things like this happen, people stand stupefied. When things go down quickly there's really nothing you can do but wait to pick up the pieces.
Susan; I often wonder what it is that causes a mind to snap. In this case it was the comedic tragedy that mirrored not only early TV shows, but much of Muriel's life.
Elephant's Child; I'd probably laugh and cry too, but don't think I'd need an ambulance.
fishducky; I don't know where these darker pieces are coming from, but I welcome them anyway.
Delores; thank you. Muriel has a long road of psychiatric treatment ahead.
Merle; not at all nasty, there was a comedy element in there.
Lee; sit at the table and put your ice cream in a bowl, eat it with a spoon.
I eat Peters Drumsticks only, River. ..chocolate or vanilla. Very rarely do I have ice cream that requires eating out of a bowl...and the only ice cream I eat is Peters...(or home-made, but I no longer make my own).
DeleteHey! Not bad!
ReplyDeleteLee; I don't like Peters ice cream much although I do have an occasional drumstick. I prefer Golden North which is gluten free and more importantly palm oil free. I'm helping to save the orang utans by my choice.
ReplyDeleteR.H. thank you very much.
Good for you, River. I'm sure the orangutans thank you, too.
DeleteI don't worry about gluten-free...I'm not allergic to gluten. Actually, as far as I'm aware, I'm not allergic to anything, food-wise.
I really,only started eating ice cream in the mid Nineties; before then I very, very rarely ate it. The only ice cream other than home-made that doesn't leave me with an after-taste of preservatives is Peters...so I'll stick with Peters - an ice cream that suits taste.
I've never seen nor heard of Golden North. Perhaps it's not sold here in Queensland and maybe, because it's produced in South Australia it's pretty much exclusive to South Australia, and to other southern states...I have no idea.
http://www.peters.com.au/peters-corporate/sustainability/#
PALM OIL
We have a deep concern about the serious environmental threat to rainforests and peat fields in South East Asia caused by deforestation, and the carry on effect to wildlife. We do not use palm oil in the production of any of our ice cream mix, however, some of the inclusions (i.e. nuts, syrups or biscuits) that we source from external suppliers do include small amounts of palm oil. In these instances, any palm oil used is CSPO(mixed) as defined by the RSPO, with the majority(99.9%) classified as Mass Balance or Segregated.
Where possible, we are removing palm oil altogether.
Interesting story the second time around.
ReplyDeleteLee; I'm not gluten allergic either, I do this mainly for the palm oil free thing.
ReplyDeleteMargaret-whiteangel; thank you.