DAILY PROMPT
Saturday Night
Tell us about the most exciting big night out you had recently.
Saturday Night
He hadn’t planned on going out Saturday night. He’d gathered DVD’s and popcorn and, to be honest, a tub of ice cream, planning to stay home and mourn the occasion of his girlfriend dumping him. More than dumping him, kicking him down the damn hill. Besides, if girls could drown their sorrows in Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough, he damn well could as well.
Not to brag, but he wasn’t something the cat dragged in. Tall, athletic, smart…. what the heck did she want?
Apparently, not him.
Slumping on the sofa, he stuffed a handful of popcorn into his mouth, settling in for the night. His first thought when the doorbell rang was she’d come back to beg forgiveness. Trotting to the door, he pulled it open, barely ducking in time to avoid the sword swing meant to separate head from body. His head from his body. Ah, hell.
Slamming the door, he leaned against the wood, panting. He hadn’t been drinking, swear he hadn’t. Trolls in this day and age? Really?
This particular troll slammed into the door, boom rattling the house around him. The blow knocked him head over heels into the living room, staring at the splintered ruin which had, just moments ago, been their front door. Mom and Dad were going to kill him!
A leg, thick around as his body, pushed through the wreckage, followed by the rest of the huge – understatement huge – troll. What were they feeding them now? Miracle Grow?
Scrambling to hands and knees, he slid across the carpet, pulling his sword out just in time to block a downward swing, grunting with the force of the blow. His free hand grabbed a handful of the jacks his mother kept in her crystal bowl, flinging them at the floor in front of the troll.
The troll wobbled. He dove over the sofa, staggering into the kitchen, catching himself on the counter as he stumbled. Swinging the sword back, the blade severed the wire bracing the portcullis above the door. Wood and metal smashed to the floor, cutting off it’s lunge, but not the earthquake tremor as the troll’s body slammed into the barrier.
Grabbing a survival pack from the pantry, he dashed out the back door, leaving it open behind him, hoping one unbroken door might assuage his parent’s anger.
To think he’d wanted to stay home and be miserable? Hell, no. All signs pointed to a great Saturday night. And it wasn’t near over yet!
You must be logged in to post a comment.