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 Margaret and friend and can be found here.

This week's words are: 

1. sully
2. chagrin
3. funambulist
4. heavy
5. lowering
6. sand

and/or:

1. ablutions
2. wasting
3. saucy
4. perpetual
5. moonstruck
6. cigar

here is my story:

(With apologies to Chris Carter, creator of The X-Files and the characters Fox Mulder and Dana Scully.)

(singsong voice) “Scully, don’t you sully, my reputation…”

“Mulder, there you are, I’ve been looking everywhere,” said Scully

“Well I’ve been right here, singing, dancing, having a great time.”

“Mulder, you’re skipping along the top of a brick wall, what on earth are you doing?”

“Don’t you recognise this Scully?” said Mulder “I’m a funambulist, and the trick to it is keeping in perpetual motion, otherwise you’ll fall.”

“Mulder, you’re not making any sense, you’re even scaring me a little bit. What’s going on?” said Scully.

“I’ve been feeling fantastic ever since that doctor injected me. I have no idea what it was he gave me, because I thought I’d better escape while I had the chance, but I’ve been feeling like a carefree kid.”

“How did you manage to escape anyway?” said Scully. “The police had this place surrounded for hours and couldn’t find a way in. They decided it was empty and left.”

“I don’t know,” said Mulder. “All I know is I was running away from him and he cornered me in the ablutions block and as he stabbed me with the needle, my elbow flew up and broke his nose. So I jumped out the nearest window and here I am. What is this place anyway?”

“It’s the old mental hospital, supposed to be empty since it closed twenty years ago,” said Scully. “Now stop wasting time and get down off that wall.”

Mulder stopped skipping around and sat on the wall instead. “I’m suddenly feeling very heavy,” he said, lowering himself to the sand that separated the wall from the road. He lay down and looked skywards where the full moon beamed down at him. “Look at that Scully,” he said. “I’ve been moonstruck.” Mulder then rolled over as if to fall asleep. “I’m so tired,” he murmured.

“Mulder, you can’t sleep now, we have to get you to a proper hospital.” Scully wrapped her arms around him and tried to help him to his feet. “Ah Scully, you saucy wench. I knew you couldn’t wait to get your hands on me,” he said.

“Stop that crazy talk Mulder and get up on your feet. We need to get you to the hospital so we can find out what you’ve been injected with and get you sobered up,” said Scully.

Mulder struggled to walk with Scully’s help and they made it to the car. She strapped him in and began the drive to the hospital. Along the way, Mulder started singing a nonsense ditty about cigar smoking aliens, before suddenly falling asleep and snoring loudly.

To Scully’s enormous chagrin, she found herself smiling at his sleeping form. He was her best friend and she was relieved that he had managed to escape. Perhaps when he woke he could tell them more about that weird Doctor and what he thought he was doing with his experiments.