anotherronism

Let's have some fun. A theme.

200 words.

The list:

Colonel Mustard
Parlor
Knife
Clue
Miss Scarlett
Reverend Green
Professor Plum
Rope
Mr. Boddy
Candle Stick

I know. I know. It's an excercise in multiple characters. Run with it. Have fun with it.

Ron

midnightpoet

oh. my. gosh.

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MR BODDY?!

lynnspotter

Ron, you never fail to either astound me, or tickle my funny bone! Often you accomplish both !!

kmkagle

OK Ron, you and your 200 word count.

Catching a Thief

Colonel Mustard stepped into the Parlor and picked up the knife. Having no clue where it came from, he spoke to Miss Scarlett who was having tea with Reverend Green. Professor Plum arrived, picked up the rope and wrapped it around the neck of Mr. Boddy. Miss Scarlett then hit the Professor with the candle stick. Stop it you fool! Shouted the Reverend! What do you think you’re doing? Miss Scarlett was crying! Oh dear! Mr. Boddy was coughing, trying to regain his composure while rubbing his throat!

Mr. Boddy replied, “I was trying to destroy the thick book containing the aliases being used by the thief”! This can’t go on any longer. I will do what ever it takes to stop it!!!!

Miss Scarlett, glimpsing Boddy, declared, “I don’t know how you can, it’s been rampant of late”. The thief keeps stealing votes and must be stopped. The Reverend spoke, “he will hang himself. Give it time”. Mustard replied, our works of art will never be seen. Plum offered his opinion, maybe they shouldn’t be! This thief’s jealousy is evil. Realize, Miss Scarlett, it could be anyone of us, or, none of us. Time will tell.

Doug

Love the list Ron. I thought you would tighten down the screws even more than "164", but you put it at a gut-wrenching 200 for this word list of immense difficulty. But, before you say it, isn't that the point?
Not a clue by Doug

Colonel Mustard you son of a bitch, I've told you before to stay away from the parlor, my kitchen and my life!
Oh, hi my name is Mr. Boddy and I've been roped into living in this estate for too long. Miss Scarlett, the real estate hag, mentioned that it was close to Candle Stick park and Professor Plum taught at the junior college where my eldest would soon be going. She didn't tell me about him, damn it!
I told you, go away!!!!
If I had had a clue as to why the Reverend Green had vacated this lovely yet poorly maintained property I would have stayed at Shady Pines where a knife and fork didn't become projectiles flung by the remains of the long dead Mustard fellow.
Go find a rope and hang yourself again, you ghastly ghoul!!!
Maybe the next house won't come with its own trademark tenant.

Dragon

Ok, I took a stab at it anyways.

Recollections of a Not Terribly Misspent Youth

My youth was not nearly so misspent as it could have, or perhaps should have been. I left Colonel Mustard Junior High School to enter Dr.E.P Scarlett High School at the usual age. There are times that I miss Scarlett. I recall Professor Plum showing us how to use a boning knife in place of a scalpel one bizarre biology class. I had a lot of good times there and made some friendships I’ll cherish forever. After graduating from Scarlett I moved on to college where I met the handsome Mr.Boddy who wooed me persistently until I finally went out with him. Oh that first date at a run down pizza parlor with the absolute best stromboli’s you ever imagined and the cliche red and white checkered tableclothes. I was hooked on him from that day on. Did we have a clue back then that someday we’d be standing in front of Reverend Green exchanging our vows? Lighting a tall taper in an elegant silver candlestick as our friends beamed at us from behind the lovely silk rope that ran along the aisle. No, my youth was not a terribly misspent one, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.

picasso2

Professor Plum

Nobody seemed to have a clue why the town was called Colonel Mustard. Except one. "The townspeople figured wrong!" old Professor Plum would often tell my papa, the Rev. Green, Uncle Knife, and Candle Stick, our half-blind lab. We would sit in Professor's colonial style parlour sipping iced, mint lemonade. Back in those days...no air-conditioners. So it was fun going to Professor's house. He seemed to have the coolest house in town. It had these great, big windows covered with shiny, mahogany shutters. It was always dark inside, but refreshingly cool.
"When the place was named," he continued, "dang people couldn't spell right. I told 'em it was spelled C-o-l-o-n-i-a-l. Huh, I was the only one with an education. Spite. Gave 'em a sense of satisfaction. Fools!" It seemed he was always yelling. "Papa," I would whisper, " Is he chiding us?". Papa winked; sipped his drink. Later, when the grandfather clock struck 4, we would leave.
As we walked home for supper, Papa would gently looked down and say, "Remember, he's lost his hearing; he's too proud to admit it." I would nod listening to the leaves in the trees while petting Candle Stick's head.

midnightpoet

"Horror Movie Roads"

Here we are again, dear, sitting in the parlor. I light the elegant candle stick and you light a joint. You offer me a hit, as always. And as always, I refuse. You think me boring and a prude, but I wasn’t always so.

I had a friend, Andie. She was the best friend I ever had. We were stoners. And we went on “burn rides” -- always at night, and always down horror movie roads.

We smoked and enjoyed the haunted energies that surrounded us. Perhaps it was weed-induced paranoia, but in our minds, spirits roamed the woods around us.

There were graveyards we visited. We had our favorite. All my friends were there: Colonel Mustard, Reverend Green, Professor Plum, Mr. Boddy. Miss Scarlet was my favorite. No, I never knew them in life, but I’d sit there at night talking to their remains while Andie snapped pictures, hoping for a clue on film.

One night I’d gone alone to see my friends. In the dark, my mind ran wild. I was stoned and I imagined a man coming out of the woods, binding me with rope, and taking a knife to my body.

I haven’t gotten high since.

lilalee

Wow, read each story and all so different!! I may take a stab at this writing someday soon!! Seems like fun!!

silly

Miss Scarlet, Will you please take the colonel mustard for his bratwurst? He's in the parlor with Mr. Boddy and neither one has a clue where anything is. You might light a candlestick for them before they trip over the coffee table. Professor plum is at the end of his rope with those two and is leaving for the coast in the morning. That, of course, has made the reverend green with envy. It's a hornet's nest in there.

anotherronism

Candle Stick park?
I miss Scarlett?

6 entries in 24 hours?

OMG! I really thought I was going to be impeached over this. But Gawd how we underestimate each other.

You guys have gotten the intended spirit exactly.

And I see at least one new poster (welcome Silly - but the word count is not a limit - it's an exact value. You're stories have to be the exact word count. But very nice effort nonetheless.)

I am personally in a pickle. I'd been thinking about this word list for a while and finally got the torch. And Doug - my intention of reigning it in was to get it back to the original (I think) 150 words. But when I named all these characters I realized some leeway had to be given to describe them. But now I find myslef idealess. But I'll pull a rabbit out of the hat somehow.

All the pieces so far are light and humerous. This was oh so my intent.

And the input has picked up. Yay!

Keep 'em coming.

Ron

picasso2

anotherronism,
Please tell me you do not count all the words in each entry??? (Are you a former teacher???) P.S. I left out Miss Scarlett...she was the author. LOL

anotherronism

“The Butler Had The Knife” by Ron

Colonel Mustard was Asian, Miss Scarlett was American Indian, Reverend Green was a Martian, Professor Plum was purple and Mr. Boddy was a bodybuilder.

The group had met at the pan-dimensional bar aptly named “Diversity”.

Colonel Mustard and Reverend Green were homosexual and hit it off immediately. Although sometimes, when they were together – they were blue.

Miss Scarlett, Professor Plum and Mr. Boddy had formed a love triangle and the status was unclear at any given moment.

They had drifted apart of late and had planned a pan-dimensional reunion in an old earth mansion.

It was a dark and stormy night.

The five gathered in the parlor of the decrepit mansion. Drinks were served and an aging butler announced dinner would soon be served.

Lightning flashed and thunder roared. The lights went out.

Then the lights returned and there was a terrible scream.

Colonel Mustard knelt beside the twitching body of Reverend Green. In his hand – a bloody knife dripping green blood. Reverend Green clutched a wound in his gut – blood and a rope of intestine visible.

The lights died again.

Professor Plum produced matches and a candle stick. He observed the crime.

“Clearly” he said, “the butler did it.”

anotherronism

picasso: Hardly ever. Unless there's a real close tie in the passing-of-the-torch.

I do count my own words always. But I use MSWord's File | Properties | Statistics tab to do the actual counting. And a quick copy and paste from TD to Word can give a quick count.

But 200 words is more than a single short paragraph so my comment to Silly was just a quick observation.

The word count makes this an excercise in editing and tightness as well as imagination, creativeness, etc...

anotherronism

OMG: I left out "clue". D'oh!

Doug

Ron: I went back to the original and if I'm not mistaken your original word count was 200. Maybe i'm wrong. I didn't know that the 200 was an exact word count. I thought it was a "not over" thing and was pretty proud of myself for coming in under. And finally, get a clue! lol.

eliza

7 September 1940

I have just returned from the Candlestick Funeral Parlor after making arrangements for poor Colonel Mustard. He was found earlier today hanging by rope. Mr. Boddy – the oddest manservant - had to cut him down with a knife. Dreadful. Apparently he left a note that Mr. Boddy felt he was not at liberty to discuss….

Reverend Green came to see me and asked me to take care of the necessary details; including informing Miss Scarlett of the sad tidings. He was quite apologetic but the demands of the times have forced him to delegate many of his responsibilities. He already had a funeral and several condolence calls on his agenda for the day. And now this!

I called Professor Plum straightaway – amazing the call went through on the first try and he was home! – I knew he would want to be with me to see the look on her face when she was told the news of the Colonel’s death. Plum - like me - has no clue as to what the Colonel saw in that tart. Yes tart! Oh bother! I wish I had left London yesterday – what is that infernal racket I hear?

matthew

Miss Scarlett was a plain young woman. She was not the brightest candle stick, but she prided herself as quite the domestic. Never would you find dust settle or a pillow unfluffed in the Scarlett houshold. Meals, always served precisely on time with multiple courses. never a fork or knife out of place. She would make a wonderful wife one day, or so she dreamed.

Her dear Professor, Oh dearest professor plum she dreams, would stand in the parlor. he would look so dapper in his coat and tail standing beside the good Reverend green. An audible gasp would be heard as the music bagan to play. All eyes would turn, awestruck and breathless at what could only be described as purest beauty. Arriving on the arm of Colonel Mustard, rope and ribbons adorning his chest. He was the only father figure she had ever known. Miss Scarlett was... well... perfect would be the only fitting description.

It was a good dream, but "dearest professor Plum" had no clue that she existed. A plain "child" is all he saw. Simple Mr. Boddy was the only suiter she had, but she always overlooked the one man that saw her true beauty.

Robindcr8l

Robin's in a rhyming mood today...
200 words, not counting the title.

The Game

A gentleman named Colonel Mustard
Who lived in a mansion back East,
Invited Miss Scarlett to dinner
For taters and wine and roast beast.

The parlor was somewhat pretentious
As Mr. Boddy excorted her in
The dining room lit with a candlestick,
Smelled of some tonic and gin.

Now Mustard had planned the whole evening,
Looking forward to it with hope.
But soon he found himself hanging
All the way at the end of his rope.

Her old suitor still was quite taken
(Professor Plum was his name).
He followed her over to Mustard's
With a knife hidden inside his cane.

He snuck in an unlocked window
And listened to their every word.
Professor was getting quite angry
With each cozy sentence he heard.

He lunged at the two of them eating
And stabbed them despite all their screams!
And then, because he was Catholic,
He dialed up Reverend Green.

How to atone for this horror
The Reverend hadn't a clue.
So he told him to say four Hail Marys,
Then called up Lieutennant Blue.

The irony didn't excape him.
The colors of everyone's name
The green of his envy and red of her blood
Reminded him of a Clue Game.