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Fireworks

by on July 4, 2012

This post was written for the Trifecta Writing Challenge; the prompt this week was to use the word “fireworks” (plural) display of temper or intense conflict, a spectacular display. It’s also another exciting entry in the Fillmore Streamlet Files. Enjoy!

Fillmore stood staring. The text wasn’t real. Cyan had made it up for laughs. But…when had she done something like that? When had she ever laughed? She had once. Before the missions. He knew the exact moment. Christmas, 11:13 PM, a diplomatic reception in Moscow.

Bored as always, Fillmore had gotten trapped in a conversation with someone he wasn’t interested in at all. He was trying to extricate himself with minimal rudeness when she walked up. “I am given to understand,” she commented, interrupting the other woman in mid-flirt, “that Fuzzy Wuzzy was a bear.”

The other woman, Natalya according to her pink-markered nametag, rounded upon the newcomer. Fillmore became slightly more interested, knowing fireworks were about to ensue. “Excuse me,” Natalya snapped, “but I was talking, hello!” She swept an imperious gaze over the other woman, noting that she was dressed in a plain sweatshirt and jeans, which blatant violation of the party dress code further incensed Natalya. “Honestly, there are just no standards anymore. Look, you obviously do not belong here, so please: go. Shoo. Do svidanya.

Cyan’s calm grey eyes blinked, once. Then she uncoiled into a poetically elegant snap-kick that sent Natalya flying smack into the drink table, shattering the punch bowl in a spray of glass and crimson. Still calm, she turned back to Fillmore. His left eyebrow quirked. “I also understand that Fuzzy Wuzzy had no hair.”

“So he didn’t. Right; that’s all for the introductions; I’m your new contact. Shall we go, or would you rather stay around and continue your scintillating conversation with what’s her face?”

Fillmore smiled. “I would, but it appears she punched out.” It was a horribly bad pun, but Cyan laughed nonetheless.

***

Her laugh echoed now in Fillmore’s thoughts. He didn’t know what to do. All his other missions, Cyan had been there, backing him up. He’d gotten used to her. Now she was in trouble, and all he had was a lousy ancient accounting book.

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6 Comments
  1. The fuzzy wuzzy thing made me laugh! Fillmore lives a very quirky life — I’m looking forward to seeing what he musters on Cyan’s behalf.

  2. Punched out. Ha! Nice work with the prompt. I like how you made it silly but didn’t write it silly. “A spray of glass and crimson” is really pretty. Thanks for linking up. Hope to see you back for the weekend challenge.

    • It’s a hard balance to strike between making it silly and writing silly. Glad it seemed to work for this one. 🙂

  3. Puns rule!

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