It All Went Down at the Whistling Fart ~ April Writing Madness, Day Five!

 

Thick, black smoke drifted around the corner of the house and enveloped Jenny, trying to suffocate her.

“Joey!” she shrieked, eliciting a movement from behind the window of the bogan house. Ignoring the red-rimmed eyes staring out at her, the smoke forced her to her knees and she started coughing and spluttering. “Joeeey!”

“Don’t worry,” came Joey’s calm voice from behind the house. “I’ve got it all under control.”

“You’ve got what under control?”

“Sanitisation. Can’t make and sell wine if everything’s unclean, Jenny.”

“Are you serious right now?” she yelled. She was out here, dying from smoke inhalation, and he was burning the house down. Dropping further to the ground, she wormed her way around the side of the house to see what the hell was going on. The door to the basement was flung wide open and black smoke poured out of it. “You know they have stuff for sanitisation, right? Liquid stuff. You don’t need to set the house on fire.”

Joey’s head popped out of the door, his face marred by black soot. “Fire is perfection. If I’m going to do this, I’m gonna do it just as Aunt Greta did,” he said, then disappeared back down into the basement.

Jenny’s head fall onto the grass and she moaned.

“Okay. Fine. Set yourself on fire. See if I care. I’m going inside, where it’s safe. I hope.”

Several bangs echoed out from the door, followed by the sharp crack of shattering glass. She didn’t want to know — oh, God, she didn’t want to know! Worming her way back to the front, she jumped to her feet and zoomed inside before more of the smoke could choke her. Despite her hurry, she couldn’t help but notice that the door-muffins had disappeared, but at least nothing fell on her head as she closed the door.

There were faint black marks and grass stains all over her uniform, she grimaced. Not that it mattered. Blair would never see it. Heading for her room, she changed into far more comfortable clothing and released her hair from its tight, scalp-stretching bun. Much better. As she heaved her uniform into the corner of the room, she glanced at the window, still ajar. That would have to be fixed before tonight; she did not want to wake up at some godforsaken hour thanks to rain spattering on her face again.

Slamming the window shut, she pushed the pin through the lock to keep it shut, only for the pin to go all the way through. It was broken. Clenching the window sills, she slumped her shoulders. At least this room was upstairs and the likelihood of some bogan breaking in was minimal, but the wind — the rain! That had been a really rude awakening.

Grabbing her laptop out of its bag, she lugged it downstairs and plugged it into the socket by the couch and fell into the cushions. Connecting to a neighbour’s unprotected Wi-Fi, a search for window locks soon turned into hours of random Youtubing, when suddenly she had the urge search for something a little more specific.

“Milly. Wife. Goat. Green fuzz,” she muttered beneath her breath, typing the words into a search engine.

There were several links available, but every time she clicked on one the page refused to load or showed an error. Turning to Twitter, she hunted for any evidence of any unknown deaths or Blair’s so-called ‘Great Fungus’ but couldn’t find anything about corpses exploding into mushrooms. He had been tripping, there was no doubt; but the green fuzz she’d heard on the News was certainly curious.

The battery icon flashed across the screen — 5% remaining — cocking an eyebrow, she glanced down at the wall. The cable was plugged in properly and the switch was turned on. With a huff, she stood up and flicked the light-switch. Nothing.

“Joey!” she yelled. “You still haven’t contacted the power company, have you?” His head popped up in the window in front of her, sending her backwards in a great leap. “Jesus! Trying to give me a heart attack?”

“No. Wanna go backyard camping?”

Taking several breaths to calm her racing heart, she placed both hands against the window sill and leant up against the glass. Looking him dead in the eye, she said, “No.”

“Come on! It’ll be so much fun. Remember when we went camping a few years ago and found that box of secret treasures?”

“It was a kids plastic jewellery box. Filled with rocks. And wasn’t in the backyard.”

“Whatever.” He waved a hand in the air. “We’ll have a fire, cook some food over the open flames and bask beneath the stars. Then, an adventure!” He waggled his eyebrows and disappeared before she could argue.

“I’d prefer you just paid the stupid bill,” she called after him.

There was no response, of course. She slunk back down onto the couch and groaned. Camping? Really? All she wanted was a nice hot shower followed by bed, curled up with a pillow, with the window firmly shut. At this rate, the only way she was ever going to be clean was if she snuck into the gym, pretended that she belonged there, that sure, yes, she definitely had a membership, and used their showers every day.

Gathering up the last ounce of strength she could muster, she wandered into the kitchen and peered out into the backyard, watching as Joey enthusiastically grabbed the chunks of wood and spindly twigs that were scattered around the property border and threw them into the centre of the yard. He looked so pleased with his backyard camping idea, she could scarcely turn him down.

“Eurgh, fine,” she groaned. “Guess we’re camping.”

The sun was setting as she walked outside and planted herself onto the grass, grateful that the thick clouds of black smoke had disappeared. Perhaps Joey had gotten his ‘sanitisation’ under control after all. Perhaps that’s what had inspired this sudden urge to go backyard camping. He always had a thing for fire.

Soon, after nearly the entire forest floor had been acquired, Joey lit a match and sent tiny flames forth to lick at the twigs and spread up over the larger sticks, bathing his face in an orange glow. He eagerly leant over the growing fire, placed another chunk of wood on the very top, then whipped out an old dusty bottle, popped the cork, and poured its contents onto the flames.

Fwoosh!

Jenny squealed as the fire burst into angry, raging life and leapt away.

"What the hell was that!?"

"Aunt Greta's wine."

"Of course it was." Shuffling back up against a tree several metres away, Jenny wrapped her arms around her knees and glared. "I'm staying over here. Away from your flammable wine. I didn't even think wine could get flammable!"

"I told you it had a kick to it. It was popular for a reason."

"Surely that level of alcohol content is illegal."

Joey dropped the bottle to the ground and reached for a long stick. Leaning against the tree, Jenny watched as Joey poked at the flames. They grew impossibly taller and she quickly checked her pocket to make sure she had her phone — they were going to need emergency services any minute now.

A cool breeze drifted down from Mount Esraelle and spread goosebumps across her skin.

"It's a bit chilly," she muttered.

"Jenny, we have a fire." Joey enthusiastically snapped the stick in half and threw it onto the flames, allowing a rain of embers to scatter before they darkened and disappeared. "Come, sit. My fire will keep you warm," he said, patting the ground beside him.

"I don't have a death wish. You'll sear my eyebrows off with your fiery wine! I just know it."

He raised any eyebrow and curled his lip in a semi-smirk, then shook his head and reached for another stick. She slowly shuffled forward, closer to the fire, but not so close he could set her alight with an out-of-control ember.

"I still can't believe you haven't contacted the power company yet," she grumbled. "This would be so much more enjoyable if I could have a nice, hot shower first. I must stink by now. Ugh. It must be such a turn off."

"You smell fine. I think. You're too far away." Joey shrugged. "What can I say? Too many things were happening! Prawns, muffins, then that toilet paper... it just, it called to me, you know? Then Aunt Greta's wine tools needed cleaning. Things happen, and now we're having a bonfire." He offered her a warm smile. "I'll turn it back on, don't worry."

"Please." Jenny ran a hand through her oily hair. "This really needs to be washed. I'm this close to grabbing a saucepan, filling it with water, and warming it over this fire before dunking my whole head in it."

"Jenny. It's been one day."

"It's been an eternity."

Joey pulled a small knife out of his pocket, reached for a long, skinny stick and whittled a sharp point onto it. "I have a question. What would you do if the world ended tomorrow? Not 'end' end, but, you know, the world as we know it."

"An apocalypse? Like in a movie?" She smirked as he nodded. "Before or after everyone pillages downtown and murders one another?"

He tilted his head to one side and said nothing, waiting for a proper answer.

"Oh, I don't know." She flung her arms up into the air. "Hopefully it'll happen in summer so I can just bathe in the river. I also have this secret plan to become the Queen of Caffeine. I'll hoard all the coffee beans and everyone will give me what I want in return for my power in relieving them of their withdrawal symptoms."

"Fantastic!" Joey grinned and spun his pointed stick up in the air. "Now, that's what I'm talkin' about. With your coffee beans and my wine, we'll be an unstoppable force!"

“Where do you plan on finding enough cucumbers for this so-called ‘wine’?”

“Oh, around.” He gestured vaguely in a wide circle then stabbed his pointed stick through a sausage. “Hungry?”

“Can’t we just order Chinese?” Jenny wrinkled her nose at the sausage-on-a-stick but was thankful he seemed to have forgotten about tormenting her with penis jokes. “Also, you can’t just steal people’s cucumbers.”

“I liberated them.” Joey sent her a mischievous wink. “Wanna know where I found ‘em?”

That wink wasn’t a good sign. She was going to have to prepare apologies to various disgruntled neighbours. They would go to prepare an amazing salad, only to find their cucumbers missing and footprints leaving the scene of the crime that would lead them straight here. It was inevitable.

“No. I don’t wanna know—“ a crash reverberated across the silent night and she leapt to her feet. “What the hell was that?”

A door slammed, something shattered, then unintelligible yells rose up from the house next door. Joey dropped the sausage-on-a-stick — she definitely wasn’t going to eat that now — and leapt towards the fence, motioning for her to join him. Curious, she hurried to his side and peered through the gaps between palings just as the thin, dishevelled bogan woman burst outside, nearly tearing the screen door from its hinges.

“Ooh,” Joey chuckled. “Another fight! You missed the one last night.”

“I was trying to sleep last night,” she hissed. “You know, so I could be wide awake for my first day at Blair’s. Fat load of good that did me.”

Joey suddenly pushed his hand against her mouth and whispered, "Shush." She rolled her eyes and nodded, moving her head away from his hand.

Suddenly, the woman released a high-pitched scream and slammed the door behind her, only for it to swing back open and smack into her stomach, knocking her over slightly.

Joey giggled and Jenny whacked his shoulder, this time making shushing motions to him.

The hefty man burst out the doorway and slurred something that sounded like, “I only fucked her because you fucked all my friends first.”

Who the hell would touch either of them with a twenty foot pole? Jenny grimaced, then watched wide-eyed as the man and his jiggling belly wobble-chased the woman in circles around the yard, yelling drunken gibberish, then pleading with drunken gibberish, before, after at least five minutes, she finally stopped, punched his nose, and strutted back inside. Touching his nose, he mumbled drunken words beneath his breath then followed her.

“Aww,” Joey muttered. “I was hoping for something more.”

“What the hell, Joey? This amuses you?”

“Of course it does! It doesn’t amuse you?”

“Not really.”

Joey leant against the fence for a few silent moments, then his eyes lit up.

“I have a great idea!” He patted her shoulder. “Do you have a spare bra? Or undies you don’t want? Want to cause some mayhem?”

“Not really,” Jenny repeated, wrapping her arms around her chest. “And you stay out of my clothes.”

“Fine, fine.” Joey leapt to his feet and raced towards the house. “Hold on, I have another great idea!” Then returned within the minute lugging a giant bucket behind him. “Prawns.”

“Prawns…?”

“Yeah!” He exclaimed. “I’ve been keeping these for a special occasion. The prawn heads and shells from breakfast the other week.”

“You… kept them? Frozen, I assume. I couldn’t smell them.”

“I told you, Jenny,” he rolled his eyes. “They’re useful.”

“I thought you meant, like, in a soup or something.”

Joey snorted.

“Do I look like a chef?”

“Evidently not.” She stared at the bucket. “And what do you plan on doing with these vile things?”

Joey lifted the lid off the bucket, then held it up into the air with both hands.

“This, dear Jenny, will make a wonderful house warming present. Your bra would’ve been better, would’ve led to some more excitement, but this’ll do.”

He jumped over the fence with the bucket clenched firm and started depositing the discarded prawn bits around all the windows as gleefully as a Santa Clause depositing happy little gifts for the children. He was insane. You just couldn’t do this type of thing to people like these. They were going to cause so much trouble, unwanted trouble. She needed to get far away from them.

As Joey leapt back over the fence, his thoughtless job complete, Jenny went to go back inside and crawl into the safety of her bed.

“Aww, what about our campfire?” Joey whined at her back.

“I’ll tell you what,” Jenny said, peering over her shoulder. “You get the power back on and I’ll drag you up Mount Esraelle on a proper camping adventure.”

“I’ll hold you to that.”

“Whatever. Goodnight.”

She stomped upstairs, changed into pyjamas she could see only by the street lights shining through the window, jumped into bed, then groaned as the bathroom light suddenly turned on and shone right into her face.

Getting up, she turned the light off then stomped back to bed. That had been awfully convenient timing. Jenny grabbed her pillow, buried her face into it, and swore at Joey through the fabric. It was too convenient. Joey had turned the power off himself and could’ve turned it back on at any time. The bastard.

“I’ll turn it back on, don’t worry,” he had said, and she hadn’t listened properly. Bugger it all.

It had better still be on in the morning. Christ, she needed a shower.

 

 
Helloooo! It's Day Five of a sudden onset of Writing Madness -- a NaNoWriMo-inspired challenge that uses the daily #freewrite prompt to help create a full story within the confines of a mere month.

 

@mariannewest's prompt for today is ~ turn off. And I vaguely threw it into some of Jenny's dialogue.

I was pretty tired today and it took great effort to write more than 50 words at a time. But finally I got over it, got caffeinated, and got writing properly. In my opinion, it's not that great today, but I got a good amount of words out and that's the main thing. 😊

 

This is a very rough first draft of an upcoming book and will be tidied up and polished after this Month of Madness is finished. 😊 It might read like fast-paced-rushed-word-garbage at the moment, but it will be refined! (I over-edit like a madwoman.)

Title is a placeholder and will probably not be the final name of the book. 🤣 This story has nothing much to do with whistling but the local pub is called the Whistling Fart, things will go down there, and there will likely be a terrible amount of fart jokes. Because I'm uncultured and farts are funny. 🤷‍♀
 

Today's wordcount is 2,571

Total wordcount is 12,699 / 50,000

 

📝 A Quick Blurb 📚

Genre: immature adult comedy, reverse coming-of-age, apocalyptic silliness
Warning: irreverent, offensive humour

Jenny is a young lady in her mid-20's who finds herself out of work, out of home, and out of luck. An old friend from school has invited her to stay at his house until she gets back on her feet, but she just can't seem to land on them.

Every job opportunity she finds goes spectacularly wrong. The Great Fungus is spreading across the world and consuming all in its path. Then, to top it off, a solar flare renders electricity a thing of the past.

Faced with the end of the world as she knows it, Jenny has a choice. Will she embrace this apocalyptic madness... or will she, too, be consumed by the fungus?
 

 

Thank you for reading! 📚😊

See you tomorrow for Day Six! 📝🤓

 

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_{Header image is courtesy of Pixabay, and was manipulated using the Deep Dream Generator.}