Welcome to Three Word Thursday #33. This week, joining the quondam obscure word-list, we have maleolent; xenization; & pigritude. We also have a dandy bunch of perspicacious writers. If you enjoy reading my story, leave a comment then click on the names of the other players and go see how they used these bygone words. You’ll be entertained (and possibly educated) all at once.
The 12th Knight of Strawberry Fife
Through the Back Gate
“Tell me about Mistress Patisserie.” Sir Evaard questioned. ”You said she was a mariturient lady, but isn’t she already wed?”
Fencil looked at Evaard in surprise. “Well, yes sir, she is; but not her daughters.”
“Her daughters?” Sir Evaard frowned. “Mistress Patisserie wanted to arrange a marriage between Sir Chevall and one of her daughters? Which one?”
Fencil shrugged. “Dulce or Tarta. I do not think it mattered. The Patisseries just wanted a Knight in the family.”
“I see.” And Sir Chevall did see. The Patisseries were trying to elevate their social status. He considered the black wreath on their door. It was not Sir Chevall they were mourning, but the death of their hopes and dreams. Without Chevall, they would not be moving into the castle. “I wish to to talk to the Patisseries,” Sir Evaard said. “But the black wreath on their front door prevents me from entering. Could you watch the house and notify me when the baker or his wife emerge?”
Fencil shrugged. “Sure I could,” he said. “But why don’t you just use the back gate like the servants?”
How simple. Sir Evaard knew that using the back gate to contact the family was unacceptable, but he could question the servants. Perhaps one of them would know where he could find Sir Chevall’s body. “Fencil, you’re brilliant!” He said. “Stay here and watch the horse, and don’t let anybody steal any strawberries!”
A strong sense of xenization followed Sir Evaard through the back gate of the Patisserie cottage. City gardens were alien to him, but he was certain most didn’t smell this maleolent. Only gross pigritude could be blamed for the offal stench. It turned his stomach.
Sir Evaard walked on his tippy-toes with his nose pointed toward the sky as he struggled for a breath of fresh air. That’s why he didn’t see the body in his path until after he had tripped over it.
to be continued
read the story in full
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The 3WT #34 words will be: suffarcinate; spiscious; & tristifical.
Got it? Good! In that case: Your story is due on: October 29th, 2009
Poor Evaard, what a way to find someone! Blah… but you’re not saying who it is exactly? Dare we assume?
Susan — assume as you will. I’m not telling.
I hope the body is not squishy.
Thursday Thirteen – Useless Knowledge
Nessa — squishy enough to be maleolent.
Mais oui, but whose bodee is zis? We don’ know!
Doug — Revenez la semaine prochaine.
I sense a merging of the classes. And who did he trip over? At present it could be any body
Tony — well, somebody knows who it was!
Poor Evaard seems to have a nose for news… wonder who he’ll uncover? Can’t be Cheval! Can it?
Melli — tune in next week, same Quilly time, same Quilly station.
THe story is beginning to get exciting. Now I have to wait until next week to identify the body. Your worse than my soap opera.
Why thank you, Dr. John! That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me!
You’re killing me with these names. Dulce and Tarta Patisserie…groan
The story IS getting interestinger and interestinger though!
Kelley — I’ll have you know those names take longer to think up then the whole story takes to write — and what’s more, the puns go over the heads of all but a few.
Ohhhhhh……………. spooky!!
Just in time for Halloween. Maybe I’ll put a ghost in next week’s episode.
Hmmm you sure he didn’t trip over his own two feet? LOL. Well done. It will be interesting to see who the body is.
Thom, perhaps you cannot tell your maleolent feet from a dead body, but Evaard has no such problem.
you are a master of suspense!
is the body human at all? i wonder!
Polona — only 7 more days until the answer is revealed! LOL!
Woo! A story with Dragon Spam in it. Of course if we were there it wouldn’t have been left to stink up the place. We dragons are just loving this story and your words.
Fandango — who told!