Friday, June 27, 2014

MADEMOISELLE JANET, SHE PEEKED!

Janet Reid is holding a 

'One of the blog readers has been laid up for four weeks+ with a "temporary and not too serious" illness and just happened to mention that last week's contest "provided some great entertainment!"
That sounds like a darn good reason to have another contest this weekend.

Usual rules:
Write a story using 100 words or fewer.
The story should contain these words:
evil  virus  mono  blush  piper


The whole word must appear le in the story. It can be part of a larger word but not divided: monopoly but not Mon Oncle Henri. Proper names are fine, but you should be aware that using the prompts as proper names is viewed as slacking off by the beady-eyed malcontent who judges these little bouts of blood sport.'



Mon Oncle Henri feels sick.  He says it's zee evil virus, yes?  But non!  It's Macallan, mais oui!

Henri is so in love with Mademoiselle Janet, but Mademoiselle, she doesn't know.

One night she asked Henri to dinner.

He asked, "What do I bring?"

"Bring Macallan."

Henri thinks she must like bagpipers.  He told Macallan, "Mon ami, we are invited to Mademoiselle Janet's."

Mademoiselle sees Macallan in his kilt.  She is curious, non?  So she peeks.  "Oh mon dieu! Magnifique!"

Macallan blushed. "'Why yes, it is!"

Henri asked, "Ma cheri amour, what about moi?"

"Sorry, Henri, I'm strictly a monogamist."


....

Back story....

As soon as I read that the prompts "can be part of a larger word but not divided: monopoly but not Mon Oncle Henri," I knew that name would not only be in my story but they'd be the first words of my story. 

Next, I tried to think of "piper" uses and "piper" words, which is how I thought of bagpipers. From bagpipers I got Macallan, because Janet Reid loves Macallan Scotch. And after that, the lost-in-the-translation angle just kinda fell into place. While Mademoiselle Janet was expecting a bottle of Macallan Scotch, she got a bagpiper instead. I don't think she minded.

My husband and I encountered a similar moment in 1977. We were in Rochester, NY, for the weekend and checked out the Don Quixote Club. It was a Castilian restaurant which featured flamenco dancers. We sat at the bar. Everyone we heard spoke Spanish, including the bartender. I told him I wanted a glass of Sauternes--pronounced saw-turn--which is a French white wine. The bartender frowned and repeated my order. I told him, "Yup, that's what I want." I took a sip and gagged. It was Southern Comfort! When I told the bartender, he said, "Yes, that is Saw-turn. Saw-turn Comfort." That's what you get for ordering French wine in a Castilian restaurant.











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