The JSW Challenge is open to anybody who wishes to participate. Using the writing prompt, write a flash fiction no longer than 500 words and post to your page. The Challenge starts on Monday and runs through Sunday each week. Please remember to link your story back to this post so everyone can read your entry.
“The floor tasted like….. yuck, puke, gag, oh no, I”m not doing that for any love or money!”
“Just lick the floor.”
“It can’t be that bad.”
“It can and will be worse.”
“No, see you’re looking at this the wrong way.”
“Oh, and how is that?”
“You’re looking at this like a challenge, like something you have a choice to do or not to do.
“No, frankly, you don’t, Frederick. You accepted the test as is, with no parameters as to what the test could include nor what you would do or not do. Thus, the test stands and you must fullfill it as stated.”
“I’ll take my chances,” said Frederick, turning his back and pulling out a ball of twine.
“Of course not,” he replied. “I’m preparing to go home.”
“What a ball of twine? HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!”
“No, you idiot, with a way to remember all the twists and turns of this stinking labyrinth.”
“Speaking of such, I could have said you had to fight the minitour in order to go free.”
Frederick hesitated. “True, you could have, but you didn’t and you can’t change the rules now.” He busied himself tying the twine around a rock.
Nimbus snipped the twine with his scissors.
“See now,” protested Frederick. “That’s just not fair.”
Tie. Frederick hid the twine with his body.
Nimbus reached around. Snip.
“Really! Play fair.”
“Fair is as fair does.”
“I’ll fight the minitaur.”
“Sorry, not going to work. The fee for safe escape from the labyrinth is licking the floor.”
“Ah for crying out loud……”
“No crying allowed when heros are involved.”
“No, I meant… oh, never mind.”
“You could have been done and gone by now, Frederick. Now, really, a hero needs to to be willing to do anything.”
Frederick made a face. “Not that.” Looked at Nimbus. “Please?”
“Trial is set and ready, hero. Are you?”
Frederick looked at the floor. Grimanced. Blanched. Made a throwing-up noise.
Nimbus sighed. Heros. They didn’t make them the same any more.
“All right,” Frederick said with a great upheavel of his arms. “Fine. I’ll lick your floor. Gheezs.” He knelt down, hesitated several times and then gave the floor a big lick. Came up spitting and sputtering. “Gross. What do you keep…?” He spit twice, running a hand inside his mouth.
“Well done!” cried Nimbus. “See that wasn’t so bad.”
“Ugg! Horrid! Horrible! Gross! Why couldn’t I have just killed the minitour?”
“We don’t kill the minitour,” Nimbus explained properly. “Way too expensive to keep replacing them. And it puts them in a bad mood.”
Frederick stalked off, still spitting and wiping his mouth.
“Enjoy your freedom! And, oh, good luck with the Golden Fleece. I hear Aeetes is having a bad year.”