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A Stressful Situation

by on October 3, 2013

This story was written for Trifecta’s weekly prompt. It expands on my previous stories, here and here, involving the all too brief life of Constance Magenta, treasure-hunter. Enjoy!

Constance Magenta was not the sort of person who used expletives lightly. She had been brought up to believe that those sorts of words should be used only in appropriate situations, when one was under extreme stress. Her archeological career, to date, had not been terribly stressful. Constance’s most exciting discovery had a Babylonian pottery shard that had reincarnated Ben, her loathsome squid ex-boyfriend. Other than that, she hadn’t had much call for profanity. But now, plummeting towards certain death in an underground cavern, Constance had time for only one last exclamation. “That stupid shiny-ass Crown!”

Instantly the thought flashed into her mind of her disapproving mother. Juliet Magenta wouldn’t have stood for that sort of thing. She also wouldn’t have approved of Constance’s disheveled appearance, particularly her undergarments. “Always wear clean underwear,” Juliet had admonished her wayward daughter. “Suppose you get into an accident on one of your…digging…things.”  Juliet had never quite approved or understood Constance’s chosen career.

Constance, of course, hadn’t changed her underwear or anything else for three days, so intent had she been on uncovering the famed Angelus Crown, treasure of kings, find of the century, guaranteed to get her a spot on the History Channel. But a second thought went through her mind then: would her body ever be recovered? If she rotted away and future explorers found only her skeleton, all well and good; the underwear problem would be moot by then. But suppose someone found her lifeless remains before that? Suppose it was that Bracken idiot from America? If that arrogant snotty-nosed pompous stuffed-shirt toadbrain found her corpse bedecked in soiled underwear, she would just die.

Constance had only one more second to reflect on the irony of that last statement before she hit ground. The very last thing that went through her mind was an unforgiving spur of rock.


  1. Draug419 permalink

    What a strange thing to think about in one’s last moments. It makes for an amusing piece though.

  2. That last line was awesome! “The very last thing that went through her mind was an unforgiving spur of rock.” Ouch!

  3. “She would just die”Oh the irony. Love the voice in this. The ending – OUCH! Thanks for linking up!

  4. Yyyyoouuuuuuch, that last line is totally wince-worthy. 😉 And while I wouldn’t say I’m a neat freak, I totally agree with Constance’s mum about clean undies!

  5. Haha Cute, that last line.
    Oh the mundane thoughts that hit you as you plummet to your death.
    All I can say is: Iber ubis sub ubis.

  6. Oh my, I remember my Gramma giving this nugget of advice when I was too little to understand what it meant. Until I ended up in the hospital, mortified at my dirty socks….I hope her dirty undies degrade before she’s found, or maybe they’ll just think it’s from the dirt floor 😉 Oh, and that last line was golden, loved it.

    • I’m not sure how long underwear takes to degrade, never having had occasion to consider the question. 😀

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