Cathy organized this little endeavor, and has asked a number of us to write a post that has the same ending.

Cathy said:

I came up with a sentence that we could all write our story around and the only similarity needed to be that all stories would end with the line…”An Innocent Victim Of A Lie Told In Silence.”

The stories could be long, multiple parts, short or in poetry form….I think we will be blessed with some of all of those things.

Following are those who should be posting their offerings some time today - Friday, October 6.

Cathy - Cathy’s Rants and Ramblings Mary Anne - “Life in Qualicum Beach” Dr. Jordan - In My Humble Opinion Wolfbaby - “Dreaming and Believing” Kim - “Emergiblog” KT - “Kt Living” Ripple - “Ripple of Hope “ Amy - Badge Bunny ? Jasmin f- Shadow Writer PK - Pearls and Dreams	The Laundress - Dirty Laundry Wandering Author - The Unending Journey Amin - Write-Now Who Wouda Thunk It - Another Day In Paradise Brian - Truth is Freedon At Your Cervix - At Your Cervix Dr. Anon - Dr. Anonymous Ipanema - Irish Cornwall May - About A Nurse Empress Bee (Of the High sea)
Dr. Rob Lamberts - Musings of a Distractible Mind

When I agreed to participate I had no way of foreseeing how busy this particular time would be for me. I’m going to post my offering, and then I intend to do Ripple’s tag … and then I’m not going to do any crossposting or tags again until I’m caught up on my blogruns. I haven’t done a full blogrun in over two weeks, and I’m very behind on all of my friend’s blogs.

I will be closing up the camp and moving shortly, all the while still dealing with my college studies - with a final project due next week, and finals two weeks later, so please forgive me if I seem a bit quiet for a while. Hopefully things will settle down soon, and I’ll be able to resume my normal blogging schedule.

I know that most people will participate in Cathy’s crossposting endeavor by writing something serious … I hope you’ll all forgive me, but I simply was unable to do that at this time. For what it’s worth - know that my own offering is an effort at a bit of comic relief …

After reading everyone else’s … I’m a little nervous about posting mine. I feel as if I’m at a party wearing a bathing suit while everyone else is in a gown or a tux! *blink*

---

Willy Nilly

They say that what you don’t know - won’t hurt you …

While that might be true in some situations, there are instances that it is, indeed, very much not the case!

The morning dawned bright and early, as mornings have a tendency of doing. Willy blinked hard against the sunlight pouring in through the window, overwhelming his vision … and pulled the covers over his head. As he lay there in the stifling closeness, his brain began the slow process of waking up. The first coherent thought to enter his mind was - “Whoa! Where’s the hot camel hidden under these sheets?”

The thought served as a goad, and he quickly stuck his disheveled head back into the punishing daylight, gasping for air - breathing had suddenly taken precedence over seeing.

The other side of the bed was still warm. and a soft fuzzy feeling of love washed over Willy as he realized that Joe was already downstairs, making his breakfast. Now … before you get any ideas, Joe is short for Josephine … naughty you! What were you thinking about poor Willy? Willy and Joe Nilly had been happily married for over a decade. Although they discovered early on that Joe couldn’t have children, Willy had done the “right thing” and stayed with his lovely wife.

Thoughts of yummy warm oatmeal - with lots of cinnamon and brown sugar - filled his brain, making his mouth water. Just about then, a basso voice boomed up the stairs and rolled into Willy’s room, the reverberations almost causing him to retreat under the covers to take refuge there with the camel …

“WILBERT!”

“Yes dear!” he squeaked. She sounded angry! A quick glance at his clock confirmed the worst: he was late! No time for a shower this morning. He scrambled for his clothes! As he quickly hauled on his pants, he realized that there was no way he could could skip out on brushing his teeth … the camel under the sheets seemed to have brought friends - there were several baby elephants playing hide and seek in his mouth.

Running into the bathroom, he grabbed his toothbrush from the cup, and blinking bleary-eyed, tried to decide which tube of toothpaste to use. Right then, another love call assaulted his eardrums …

“WILBERT! Get your worthless skinny excuse for an (expletive) down here!”

Willy latched onto the tube closest to his hand, smeared it onto his brush, and began to scrub away at his teeth; he was immediately relieved that he hadn’t eaten yet, or he would have unceremoniously emptied the contents of his stomach! That was the worst tasting toothpaste he’d ever tried! Forcing himself to continue brushing in spite of the upheaval now actively taking place in his gut, he squinted to read the name on the tube, determining to never use that brand again …

“What an awful name for toothpaste,” he thought, as he broke the long words down into syllables: mi-co-na-zo-le ni-tra-te … with relief, he finally rinsed the offensive taste out of his mouth. He wondered why his beloved Joe had bought something with such an awful name … and an even worse flavor …

Quickly patting into place the few hairs left on the top of his bald, shiny head, he scooted down the stairs and into his seat at the table just as Joe was about to holler for him again. He noticed how clearly the latest tattoo showed through the long, dark, curly hairs on her arms as she all but slammed the plate down in front of him. He had been just about to complain about the toothpaste when he looked down into his plate, and found two big yellow eyes staring back up at him … they were beginning to glaze over, as the grease on the limp bacon next to them began to congeal.

“Um, sweetie?” he began tentatively, “I don’t like eggs and bacon for … ”

“Shaddup! It’s what you’re getting, you son of a (expletive.)”

“Yes, Honey-poo. Of course, dear. I wasn’t going to … ”

His words turned into an incomprehensible mumble as his wife began to squint her one good eye at him in warning. Willy dug into his breakfast in self-defense … and cringed as he gagged down the cold, half cooked bacon. From the vantage point of the fly which had been watching the entire scene from its primo spot on the half empty package of bacon, which was still rotting away on the counter, a 6 foot 5, 475 pound gorilla was fattening up a 95 pound chihuahua for reasons best left to the imagination - or maybe not.

As the eggs and bacon vied for position in his stomach, Willy scooted down the street, as fast as his size sixes could carry him, and just made it onto the bus. To his chagrin, he realized that all of the seats were taken; he sighed heavily as he resigned himself to standing in the aisle, and being jostled and bumped to within an inch of his miserable life by fellow riders - all of whom were at least a foot taller than he was. The bus lurched forward, and he reflexively reached up to grab a strap. An odor began to fill his senses.

Willy had always been one of those unfortunate people who are so badly lacking in self confidence that he would wait until someone else noticed and mentioned it first if his pants caught fire … so he was relieved to see that everyone around him was also reacting to the odor. He wasn’t imagining things after all! To his delight and amazement, the space around him cleared completely, and all of the nearby seats were quickly being vacated! What luck! Seizing the moment, he took the nearest seat … although he did begin to wonder why everyone was pressing toward the back of the bus, sending malevolent glances in his direction. As he sat there, he wondered if one of them had forgotten their lunch under the seat … what was that smell? Limburger?

He didn’t get to sit very long, because his office building was the very next stop. As he got off the bus, he noticed that the battle between the bacon and eggs he’d had for breakfast was really picking up. This did not bode well at all! He couldn’t miss work today! The new boss was going to be there! He was going to have to try to tough it out …

Things only went downhill from there. Once safely in his cubicle, he decided that the bacon had won the battle, and he was certain that it was going to fight its way back up his esophagus to freedom. He wove an uncertain path to the men’s room, hoping that he could keep himself from doing something terribly embarrassing as he walked through the secretarial pool. He managed to make it all the way past the desks, down the hall, and to the men’s room - only to find a sign blocking the door: “Out of service.”

He looked longingly at the ladies’ room across the hall … took deep slow breaths … and shakily made his way back to his cubicle. The numbers swam around on his computer screen as he tried to concentrate on his work. He began to worry that he wouldn’t be able to last the day, but he knew that it would be disastrous to go home sick the day the new boss was coming in.

Willy gathered his courage, and stood on his chair to peek over the cubicle wall. The tanned, muscled fellow sitting at the computer jerked in surprise as Willy’s round shiny head poked over the partition.

“How many times have I told you not to do that? Am I gonna need a restraining order against you, you little (expletive)?”

Willy giggled nervously, and tried to keep from falling off from his chair. He liked Bruce, although sometimes he seemed to be a bit gruff. He became a little uncomfortable as he realized that Bruce reminded him a bit of Joe. Maybe it was all the hair and tattoos …

Uncertainly, Willy asked “Do you know when the new boss is supposed to get here?”

Bruce just glared at Willy silently …

He cleared his throat, and tried again, thinking that Bruce mustn’t have heard him … “Corporate said that the new boss was supposed to arrive at about lunch time, right?”

Bruce shook his head as he rolled his eyes. Pointedly ignoring Willy, he turned back to his work.

Taking the head shake as a denial, he wondered how late the boss and his entourage would actually arrive, and if he should try to hang around for that long.

Ah … the misleading things our silences sometimes say …

As lunch time approached, the squirming in his stomach seemed to be oozing its way down into his tummy. Soon, Vesuvius was again rumbling dangerously, but this time from the other end of his anatomy.

Willy began to sweat profusely as the gastronomic disturbance worked its way down the twisty turns of his gut. When the rumbling got too loud and insistent, he headed back past all of the secretaries’ desks, down the hallway, and to the restrooms. The sign was still there - blocking his entry to the men’s room. The closed “women’s room” door beckoned silently. Sweat beaded on his nearly bald pate as he waffled in indecision in the hallway … looking back and forth between the “out of order” sign, and the women’s room door.

The pressure in his gut had become deadly. He knew that he had to make his move - immediately - before a movement of another sort made the decision moot. He gently tapped on the lady’s room door and barely whispered:

“Is anyone in there?”

No answer. Silence.

His hope rising, and feeling a little bolder, he knocked more loudly, and in a slightly more self confident tone, with his voice only shaking a little, he asked “Is this room empty?”

Was that a snicker he heard? No! He was sure it had to be the roiling sound his gut was making …

One last try - just to be sure … Willy rapped on the door with a sharpness that surprised him, and in a voice made uncharacteristically harsh by the urgency he was experiencing, he called out: “Anyone in there?”

Silence was the only reply … and it was certainly speaking very loudly today.

Gratefully, urgently, Willy pushed the door open, even as he began to work at undoing his belt with his free hand. He knew that he was barely going to make it …

Pandemonium broke out as soon as the bevy of babes who had been powdering their noses saw him come through the door with his pants unbuckled. Willy was so surprised that there was someone in there that his concentration broke … and so did the tight seal which had been keeping his greasy bacon problems inside of his gut. Realizing that he was now in deep doo, he flew backward out of the room, quickly closing the door.

He could feel a disconcerting warmth … wet and sticky … beginning to slide down his leg … and he realized that couldn’t go back through the secretarial pool to his cubicle. The limberger cheese smell, which seemed to have followed him when he’d gotten off the bus, was now being overpowered by an even stronger stench …

Where would he go!? The sound of screaming was now getting louder, and he realized that the once deceptively silent women had turned into a lynch mob, and were heading for the door. Making a snap decision - he lunged into the nearest room, closing the door quickly behind himself. He pressed his ear to the heavy, well polished oak, and listened with relief as the cacophony made its way toward the secretarial pool. He knew they’d find him eventually, but this would give him a chance to pull himself together a bit.

First he assessed his surroundings, and realized that he’d caught his first real break of the day … he was in the new boss’ office … which should not only be a safe place, it should be empty for a while yet since it was only noon! Secondly he assessed his own condition, and had a new realization … he wasn’t going anywhere until he cleaned up.

He looked around the room for something - anything - he could use to make himself presentable. There were some fancy books on the shelves lining the walls, but he had a feeling that using the pages for cleaning purposes might not be such a good idea. After a bit of exploring, he realized that the bar in the far corner of the room was a wet bar! It had a small sink - with running water! Feeling as if his luck was truly changing, he decided that it was time to undertake another, um, change …

He carefully removed the offending britches, and began to rinse them in the little sink, wondering how he was going to explain his wet pants to Joe when he got home. That led him to envision the trip home on the bus … which led to a vision of something even more urgently pressing - trying to get out of the office building unseen.

The very thought of a dozen angry secretaries, now certainly combing the building for him with the intention of tarring and feathering him, made his gut clench, and he could feel another attack coming on. Frantically, he looked around the room for an adequate receptacle … and found - the trash can!

He abandoned the pants in the little sink, pulled the fancy little trash can away from the desk, and parked his bare bottom on it gratefully. He wondered how he was going to clean things up before the new boss showed up … and heaved a sigh of relief as he looked at his watch … only noon! He would have plenty of time to worry about that … !

From his makeshift throne, he could see that the pants must have been blocking the drain of the little sink, because the water had begun to puddle onto the hardwood floor, and was beginning to snake its way toward him. At about the same time, it dawned on him that he was hearing voices and footsteps coming down the hall, and that he’d forgotten to lock the door.

Willy wanted to run and hide behind something, but his gut simply would not cooperate. He decided that he would try to hide behind the bar, if he could slide to the more concealed position without getting up. Holding the can firmly to his bottom, he began to try to slide over to the bar …

… and that was when his foot hit the puddle of water running across the floor from the sink, causing it to slip and pitch him forward onto his face … with the now rather dented trash can spreading its contents across a surprisingly wide area as it popped off from his posterior, and made a graceful arc before landing squarely on his bald little head. In some corner of his awareness, Willy was relieved that the cheeks which were showing were not the ones which were burning with embarrassment …

And thus did Willy greet his new boss for the first — and last — time …

… an innocent victim of a lie told in silence …

Posted: Thursday, October 5th, 2006 at 1:30 am under: Crossposting, Snickers. Comment Feed (RSS 2.0). Interact: Comment or Trackback.