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stonepicnicking_okapi) wrote2021-05-25 06:17 pm
stonepicnicking_okapi) wrote2021-05-25 06:17 pm
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My Fic: Jeeves & Wooster: it's the end of the world (and i feel fine)
I am doing Seven Days, Seven Stories at GYWO. I am mainly focused on poetry for my Yahtzee prompts and drafting my Unconventional Courtship fic but they post a prompt every day and so far I've been able to do them. Today's prompt is:
51 Impending Apocalypse
A radio announcement has given a four-minute warning before a meteorite collides with Earth. Write for four minutes, without stopping or hesitating, from the perspective of somebody experiencing this cataclysmic event, taking on the immediacy and urgency of the scenario in your writing.
So the first part of this is the 4-minute speed-writing and the second part is putting it in context, Wooster-style. Rating: Gen. Word count: 400.
oh my god, oh my god, time for a b. and s., no, four minutes, four minutes until the end of the world, what to do, run out in the street, tell mrs. tinkler moukle just what I think of her and her godhelpus pomeranian, no, thank goodness I’m wearing the grey heather, won’t show stains as much, apocalyptic stains, let’s see, I should recite something, Shakespeare, the bloody poet Shelley, no, the Bible, the Good Book, pity all I can remember is the part of about balaam’s ass, really, that scripture prize was a long time ago, oh, yes, I know, I’ll do the thing I’ve been putting off for a long time, yes, by Jove, a corker of a idea, I’ll tell Jeeves—
“Jeeves! I love you!”
“And I love you, sir.”
Of course, Jeeves was unruffled. Neither the end of the world nor a declaration of sentiment from his employer could shake his equanimity. And he’d brought the b. and s. on a tray.
“You do?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Like the brotherhood of mankind love, Jeeves, or like hark what light through yonder window breaks love?”
“Both, sir. They coexist.”
“By Jove! Ours is a Mutual Adoration Society! Too bad it’s all over.”
I closed my eyes, crossed my hands over my chest and commended my soul to—
“Sir?”
“It’s the end of the world, Jeeves, though I think things are running a bit late. Who knew the apocalypse would be like the Number Ten bus?”
I heard the click of the wireless knob, then silence.
“Sir, it was only a fictional programme.”
“What?! It had me in a right panic!”
“Extremely convincing these modern productions, sir.”
I eyed the tray with no little necessity.
“I say, Jeeves, pour yourself one.”
“Thank you, sir.”
As Jeeves decanted his portion, I hauled up my slacks like a good aunt and tackled the delicate matter of my confession.
“Uh, what I said earlier, well, I meant it. A Wooster always means what he says and says what he means, although the latter is usually in a mildly incoherent, often grammatically incorrect, slightly roundabout way.”
“As did I sir, mean what I said.”
“Well, then, here’s the end of the world.” I raised my glass. “Or the end of the end of the world.”
Jeeves raised his and his mouth twitched. “And the beginning of another, sir?”
“Right you are, Jeeves.”
51 Impending Apocalypse
A radio announcement has given a four-minute warning before a meteorite collides with Earth. Write for four minutes, without stopping or hesitating, from the perspective of somebody experiencing this cataclysmic event, taking on the immediacy and urgency of the scenario in your writing.
So the first part of this is the 4-minute speed-writing and the second part is putting it in context, Wooster-style. Rating: Gen. Word count: 400.
oh my god, oh my god, time for a b. and s., no, four minutes, four minutes until the end of the world, what to do, run out in the street, tell mrs. tinkler moukle just what I think of her and her godhelpus pomeranian, no, thank goodness I’m wearing the grey heather, won’t show stains as much, apocalyptic stains, let’s see, I should recite something, Shakespeare, the bloody poet Shelley, no, the Bible, the Good Book, pity all I can remember is the part of about balaam’s ass, really, that scripture prize was a long time ago, oh, yes, I know, I’ll do the thing I’ve been putting off for a long time, yes, by Jove, a corker of a idea, I’ll tell Jeeves—
“Jeeves! I love you!”
“And I love you, sir.”
Of course, Jeeves was unruffled. Neither the end of the world nor a declaration of sentiment from his employer could shake his equanimity. And he’d brought the b. and s. on a tray.
“You do?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Like the brotherhood of mankind love, Jeeves, or like hark what light through yonder window breaks love?”
“Both, sir. They coexist.”
“By Jove! Ours is a Mutual Adoration Society! Too bad it’s all over.”
I closed my eyes, crossed my hands over my chest and commended my soul to—
“Sir?”
“It’s the end of the world, Jeeves, though I think things are running a bit late. Who knew the apocalypse would be like the Number Ten bus?”
I heard the click of the wireless knob, then silence.
“Sir, it was only a fictional programme.”
“What?! It had me in a right panic!”
“Extremely convincing these modern productions, sir.”
I eyed the tray with no little necessity.
“I say, Jeeves, pour yourself one.”
“Thank you, sir.”
As Jeeves decanted his portion, I hauled up my slacks like a good aunt and tackled the delicate matter of my confession.
“Uh, what I said earlier, well, I meant it. A Wooster always means what he says and says what he means, although the latter is usually in a mildly incoherent, often grammatically incorrect, slightly roundabout way.”
“As did I sir, mean what I said.”
“Well, then, here’s the end of the world.” I raised my glass. “Or the end of the end of the world.”
Jeeves raised his and his mouth twitched. “And the beginning of another, sir?”
“Right you are, Jeeves.”