Back from Kiev and into the unpleasant summer heat of Malta. Air conditioning, for the living room at least (and so by extension to the rest of the flat) should arrive on Tuesday: I'm not convinced it's really necessary, but I don't think I'll refuse to use it 'on principle' either.
[Hmm. Should I be surprised that the first time I write about Scrabble outside of four-line prose day I have to double-post?]
The ice man As the judges totalled the scores Ellen's face turned ashy grey through several increasingly wan stages. It quickly became clear that Theresa and Maureen had been stronger players, but the final score was damning in its indictment of her play. The only round where she'd had a clear advantage had been the one where she'd been putting things in the drinks, and now the judges reviewed it they decided that it should be stricken from the record due to irregularities. Theresa and Maureen were ushered through into the next round, naming themselves Team Iceman, and Ellen was dismissed. She stood for a moment, her knitting bag clutched in a blue-veined, skinny hand, and then turned away. Her shoulders slumped and the wattle at her neck bulged outwards briefly like a turkey understanding its fate, and she trudged out of the hall in the direction of the disabled parking. "Her mother's in the car," said Marjorie, who knew everyone and everything. "I hope she remembered to crack a window for her this time; last year she ended up having to take her to the hospital for heat-stroke, and that's nothing a ninety-seven year old woman wants to have to deal with." "Ellen's ninety-seven?" asked Theresa. Her words were still slightly slurred, but she had a cup of strong tea in her hand now and seemed to be regaining vigour. The smell of the tea was making Maureen thirsty but Theresa disliked being copied, even as flattery, and Maureen really wanted her to have her wits about her for the next round. She sipped water from a plastic recyclable bottle instead, and tried not to feel resentful. "Her mother is," said Marjorie. "Turned ninety-seven two months ago, so Ellen took her to a dog show. It was all fine until her mother dropped her bacon sandwich, and then there was pandemonium. Pan-de-moan-ium." "I played that in a tournament once," said Theresa. "Wasn't worth a lot since there was already AN and EMO on the board but Lizzie was playing and you know how she gets. She saw the word DEMON in there and she started up such a fuss that the arbitrator had to come over and try and settle her down. They gave her valerian tea first, and that did nothing, and then they rubbed some catnip on her upper lip and that did nothing, so finally they put some chloral hydrate in her tea. Well, we all just sat and waited for ten minutes and then she passed out and we won by default."
"Lizzie's got a barbiturate dependency these days," said Marjorie nodding. She waved her hands vaguely as though to suggest that she was just reporting what she'd heard, though Maureen knew for a fact that Marjorie had an active information gathering network that included school-children and possibly pigs. "Seems like tea is the vector for a lot of dodgy tricks this year. They're talking about doing randomised drug testing on anyone who drinks it next year." Theresa sniffed, then peered at her cup. "You wouldn't catch me drinking adulterated tea," she said. "Hah, I played ADULTERATED the very next game actually. Well, I played the E in the middle; last turn of the match and we ended up winning by 15 points. I can still remember the sourpuss faces of our opponents." Maureen, who had slipped a dusting of methamphetamine into Theresa's tea under the pretext of adding sugar for her smiled and hoped she didn't looked guilty. Marjorie looked like a sour-puss. "That was me and Edith," she said. "And it was the thirteenth E." Maureen looked around and, seeing no-one she knew, smiled again. "Oooh," she said. "I think my bladder just exploded. I'm off before I wet myself." Then she walked, quickly at first then breaking into a run as the argument over where a thirteenth E in a twelve-E scrabble set could have come from could erupt like Vesuvius after a summer vacation.
Greg - the heat has been coming and going this summer here, but it seems like it's going to be here to stay for a bit this time. Time to get the air conditioning set up for sure.
A bonus installment in the Scrabble tale! I am definitely pleased :D
3 comments:
Back from Kiev and into the unpleasant summer heat of Malta. Air conditioning, for the living room at least (and so by extension to the rest of the flat) should arrive on Tuesday: I'm not convinced it's really necessary, but I don't think I'll refuse to use it 'on principle' either.
[Hmm. Should I be surprised that the first time I write about Scrabble outside of four-line prose day I have to double-post?]
The ice man
As the judges totalled the scores Ellen's face turned ashy grey through several increasingly wan stages. It quickly became clear that Theresa and Maureen had been stronger players, but the final score was damning in its indictment of her play. The only round where she'd had a clear advantage had been the one where she'd been putting things in the drinks, and now the judges reviewed it they decided that it should be stricken from the record due to irregularities. Theresa and Maureen were ushered through into the next round, naming themselves Team Iceman, and Ellen was dismissed. She stood for a moment, her knitting bag clutched in a blue-veined, skinny hand, and then turned away. Her shoulders slumped and the wattle at her neck bulged outwards briefly like a turkey understanding its fate, and she trudged out of the hall in the direction of the disabled parking.
"Her mother's in the car," said Marjorie, who knew everyone and everything. "I hope she remembered to crack a window for her this time; last year she ended up having to take her to the hospital for heat-stroke, and that's nothing a ninety-seven year old woman wants to have to deal with."
"Ellen's ninety-seven?" asked Theresa. Her words were still slightly slurred, but she had a cup of strong tea in her hand now and seemed to be regaining vigour. The smell of the tea was making Maureen thirsty but Theresa disliked being copied, even as flattery, and Maureen really wanted her to have her wits about her for the next round. She sipped water from a plastic recyclable bottle instead, and tried not to feel resentful.
"Her mother is," said Marjorie. "Turned ninety-seven two months ago, so Ellen took her to a dog show. It was all fine until her mother dropped her bacon sandwich, and then there was pandemonium. Pan-de-moan-ium."
"I played that in a tournament once," said Theresa. "Wasn't worth a lot since there was already AN and EMO on the board but Lizzie was playing and you know how she gets. She saw the word DEMON in there and she started up such a fuss that the arbitrator had to come over and try and settle her down. They gave her valerian tea first, and that did nothing, and then they rubbed some catnip on her upper lip and that did nothing, so finally they put some chloral hydrate in her tea. Well, we all just sat and waited for ten minutes and then she passed out and we won by default."
"Lizzie's got a barbiturate dependency these days," said Marjorie nodding. She waved her hands vaguely as though to suggest that she was just reporting what she'd heard, though Maureen knew for a fact that Marjorie had an active information gathering network that included school-children and possibly pigs. "Seems like tea is the vector for a lot of dodgy tricks this year. They're talking about doing randomised drug testing on anyone who drinks it next year."
Theresa sniffed, then peered at her cup. "You wouldn't catch me drinking adulterated tea," she said. "Hah, I played ADULTERATED the very next game actually. Well, I played the E in the middle; last turn of the match and we ended up winning by 15 points. I can still remember the sourpuss faces of our opponents."
Maureen, who had slipped a dusting of methamphetamine into Theresa's tea under the pretext of adding sugar for her smiled and hoped she didn't looked guilty. Marjorie looked like a sour-puss. "That was me and Edith," she said. "And it was the thirteenth E."
Maureen looked around and, seeing no-one she knew, smiled again. "Oooh," she said. "I think my bladder just exploded. I'm off before I wet myself." Then she walked, quickly at first then breaking into a run as the argument over where a thirteenth E in a twelve-E scrabble set could have come from could erupt like Vesuvius after a summer vacation.
Greg - the heat has been coming and going this summer here, but it seems like it's going to be here to stay for a bit this time. Time to get the air conditioning set up for sure.
A bonus installment in the Scrabble tale! I am definitely pleased :D
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