Waiting for Answers

About a month ago, AltSearchEngine reported on a creative writing contest offered by Answers.com. There is a nominal prize incentive and an October 1 deadline. The event is one of those viral promotion things, where bloggers invest some time creating buzz by crafting some content around a few links. In this case, there are ten words with links into the Answers.com web site that need to be used in some creative work.

The contest is open to school-aged kids and also to adults. Trapped as a blog draft, I missed an opportunity to get Carter involved, but the following is my entry.

Two men sit at a table. They stare at a square board upon which sits small wooden tiles. They stare intently.

Este: Why are we doing this?
Vlad: Because he wouldn’t play.
Este: Checkers?
Vlad: Simian! Scrabble.
Este: I thought you said checkers.
Vlad: Scrabble, scrabble.
Este: Why are we doing this?
Vlad: Gazpacho.

Vlad pulls some tiles from in front of him and places them carefully on the square board.

Este: That’s not a word.
Vlad: It is.
Este: It is a food.
Vlad: I had some in Kew Gardens.
Este: It is a food. We eat it.
Vlad: It is a word. Eat that.
Este: He wouldn’t accept it.
Vlad: Who believes him?
Este: Everybody. He’s the only version they know.
Vlad: People are bloody ignorant simians.
Este: Can I challenge?
Vlad: (sniffing) The air. (sniffing more). It’s a fug
Este: I am waiting.
Vlad: Most foul. (sniffing)
Este: I am ready.
Vlad: Most foul. (sniffing)
Este: I am agog.
Vlad: No.
Este: Why?
Vlad: Gazpacho is a word.
Este: It is a food.
Vlad: It is thirty-two points.
Este: The work of the fifth-column.
Vlad: Double word score.

Este rises painfully, limping to extreme left. He halts and gazes into distance. He hobbles to extreme right, again gazing. Vlad watches him, picks up two of Estes’ tiles and replaces one with the other. Este returns to the table and studies his tiles.

Este: Clearly, these are my salad days.
Vlad: Clearly.
Este: (sitting) Let us abscond.
Vlad: We can’t.
Este: Why not?
Vlad: We’re playing.
Este: Ah. (Pause.) You’re sure it was Scrabble?
Vlad: What?
Este: And not checkers.
Vlad: Will that be your opus?
Este: No more weeping.
Vlad: I’m winning.

Este slides his remaining tiles onto the square board.

Este: (triumphantly) Horripilation.
Vlad: That’s not a word.
Este: It might be a food.
Vlad: It isn’t.
Este: A bush.
Vlad: A—. What are you insinuating?
Este: We should play checkers.
Vlad: I challenge.
Este: Checkers is quicker.
Vlad: We’ll play tomorrow.
Este: And then the day after tomorrow.
Vlad: Possibly.
Este: Eighteen points.
Vlad: I challenge.
Este: Horripilation seems more valuable.
Vlad: I challenge.
Este: It is longer than Gazpacho.
Vlad: Not as tasty.
Este: Must be the common letters.
Vlad: I challenge.
Este: On what grounds?
Vlad: You are six tiles shy.

Este and Vlad stare at the square board. Este examines the blank space in front of him, and then he looks at the pile of tiles in front of Vlad.

Este: I’ll borrow yours.
Vlad: I challenge.
Este: For eighteen points?
Vlad: For horripilation.
Este: That makes no difference.
Vlad: All the same.
Este: What are we to do?

Vlad stares at the square board. Este stares at Vlad. A man walks past a tree.

Vlad: Let’s play checkers.
Este: My hair is bristling.

Apologies to Sam Beckett.