Wednesday's Words on a Friday

The original Words for Wednesday was begun by Delores and eventually taken over by a moveable feast of participants when Delores had computer troubles.

The aim of the words is to encourage us to write, a story, a poem, whatever comes to mind.
If you are posting an entry on your own blog, please let us know so we can come along and read it.

This month the words are supplied by and can be found here.
NEXT month, the words will be supplied by me and can be found right here at Drifting Through Life.

This week's words are:

1. gaseous
2. green
3. ghostly
4. grammar
5. glob
6. ghoul

and/or:

1. dastardly
2. dunce
3. dragon
4. destiny
5. doberman
6. dinner

Here is my story:

The small,  gaseous, green cloud emanating from the glob of whatever-that-was, reminded Tom of the ghostly apparitions in his favourite childhood movie, "Ghostbusters". Unfortunately, the cause of this chemical reaction was lost to him. Tom had never paid much attention in chemistry class. Or any other class for that matter. Learning just enough to pass to the next grade was fine with him. Tom's main ambition was to leave school as soon as he was legally able and bum his way around the country as a seasonal worker. Cities and offices were not for him, no sir!
He wouldn't be needing math, or grammar, certainly not chemistry. When he got the lowest test score and Mr Franklin pronounced him the class dunce, he hadn't minded one bit. 

Bumming around the country had been a good life, Tom's needs were few and most of his pay, little as it was, had built up nicely in his bank account. But as the years passed, the fruit picking and other odd jobs had dried up, with more and more small farms being bought out by big machinery conglomerates.  

Tom had one day found himself on the outskirts of a small city, working at a breeding kennel, mucking out the stalls, washing up the food and water bowls, exercising the animals as they awaited the birth of their puppies.

The owner, a scrawny woman of indeterminate age, reminded Tom of a dragon, with her fierce manner, spiky hair and fingernails like claws.  But Olivia loved her Dobermans and was very particular about the welfare of her 'girls' as she called them.  Tom learned their dinner time and what they ate, as well as the amount, was of the utmost importance.  No cheap-and-nasty backyard breeding was going on here. These were pedigreed bitches who would produce A-grade puppies, only one litter every two years and no more than three litters before being given a break from mothering. The destiny of most of the pups was to be trained as guard dogs for security firms.

Tom calmly and quietly removed Princess, the current inhabitant of the birthing room, then went to fetch Olivia. After two years he'd grown quite fond of her and the animals, which he cared for just as much as she did. One look at his face when he appeared at the back door, and Olivia was heading towards the shed in an instant. "Poison!" she spat, "that dastardly Lewis I bet", she said more quietly. "He's been wanting a puppy for years and I keep refusing him, because I know he wants one to train as a fighter. Dog fighting is illegal, just like those awful cock-fights that go on down below the border. He said last time he'd be getting back at me, and this poisonous gas would have killed Princess before her pups were delivered. Where is she now?"
"I've put her in the empty kennel row, lots of straw and a bowl of water. How would Lewis have got in here anyway?"
"That ghoul probably hitched a ride with the straw delivery van, they have a new driver who wouldn't know Lewis from Adam" said Olivia. She covered the smelly glob with a spadeful of dirt then a bucket, thankful the gas hadn't spread very far. "Let's get the other girls out of the other room, make sure there isn't anything else in their stalls, we'll take them up to the house."
A whimper from the small shed had them both turning that way. "Sounds like Princess has begun," said Olivia. "This is her second litter, she'll be fine for a while. You start moving Queenie and Sheba while I go and ring Dr Wentworth, he'll come out and check on her as she delivers."
"What about the other girls?" asked Tom. "You want me to check the field kennels after I move Queenie and Sheba?"
"Good idea," said Olivia. "I don't think Lewis would have gone all the way down there, but check anyway."