Hump Day Kick Start – Thanksgiving Ax-man Edition

Song of the day: Bleed by The Dreaming

Hump Day Kick Start – for your muse, a writing picture prompt, or just a visual treat.

lumberjack

In honor of the American holiday Thanksgiving, I give you a hunk and an ax. You’re welcome.

Today’s prompt could go many different ways. We could stay with a Thanksgiving theme. Mr. Ax-man may be stalking the farm for an unlucky gobbler the lovely cook wants to roast. Or perhaps he’s taking carving the turkey a bit too seriously (to impress her, of course).

We could veer off into another direction. He could be special forces, stranded in the wilderness. Winter’s coming and he needs to build shelter and gather firewood. Protect the beautiful informant. Keep her safe and warm. Maybe give in to carnal instincts. Because the back country will do that to you. Conversely, the mountain man may be alone, all alone out there, until a hiker loses her way.

And, hey, never discount the zombie apocalypse. A good arm and true swing will lop off a drooling, groaning, mindless, flesh-eating zombie’s head.

What’s your take on our tasty prompt? Or tell me what you are thankful for. I’m thankful for delicious, hard, testosterone-filled eye-candy. Love to hear from you!

13 Responses to Hump Day Kick Start – Thanksgiving Ax-man Edition

  1. Will Graham says:

    “Ah haff bin sent to claim ALL Black & White Cookies in zee name of The Princess Pistol! It vould be in your best interests to gather zem all as rapidly as possible so I may return vith them in hand. Othervise, Ah must Go Berserk until her demands are met…. Und you do not vant me to Go Berserk on her behalf…..”

    Like

  2. jbrayweber says:

    HAHA! Nice, Will. And I approve of his dialect. Even read it in my head with a deep, manly voice.

    Like

  3. Marie says:

    Norman Higginbottom was a corporate mover and shaker.
    By day, he moved with ease and aplomb among business moguls.
    In the evening, when he hit his mansion high atop a mountain, he shucked his three piece perfectly tailored suit and pursued his passion. His goal was to be a first class woodworker. He envisioned his masterpieces being sold in the finest venues.
    Of course, working and felling trees on his property gave him abs and a body to die for.
    Deidre Appleby arrived home from her day job only to find her new feline companion up in a tree outside her window,
    She called to her kitty to no avail. Peachblossom was too afraid to jump down.
    Deidre examined her mail and almost tossed it before she noticed a flyer with custom made furniture on the cover.
    A business like face peered back at her and beckoned to call his number. It was local, and she was new in the area so she dialed and Norman answered..
    ” My kitty is stuck in a tree. Can you help me?”
    Unaccustomed to calls late in the evening, He was taken aback and said “I ‘ll be right over.”
    Taking his sledgehammer, ax and saw he went to Deidre’s door.
    “Where’s your kitty?”
    “Up there, in that tree” Deidre volunteered.
    Something about Norman seemed familiar,
    Had she met him during her marketing visits?
    Norman leaped up to reach for the kitty, and she flew into his arms.
    Suddenly, Deidre said” I know you..”
    Norman gave Deidre her kitty, Peachblossom and turned away.
    With a wink and a grin he turned back and said “See you in the corporate world.
    And with that, Deidre mumbled her thanks and walked back into her house.
    Norman had once more rescued a lady. It was only a matter of time until they met again

    Like

  4. jbrayweber says:

    Ha! Very nice, Marie. Happy Thanksgiving!

    Like

  5. Marie says:

    Thanks, Jennifer. Happy
    Thanksgiving to you!

    Like

  6. pibarrington says:

    Hey, where the hell am I? This doesn’t look like NYC. And he doesn’t look like a subway rider either. Subway. That’s where I fell asleep on the way to Manhattan. So why the hell did I wake up in a pile of fire-on-the-inside-colored maple leaves, dressed in some kind of drab dressy thing that looks like something a Pilgrim would wear? Pilgrim? I know I said I wished for a real, traditional Thanksgiving but this is ridiculous!
    “Hey! You! Mr. Pilgrim Guy! I didn’t think Pilgrims were allowed to take off their clothes. Who the hell are you and where the hell is this place?”
    “You are in New England.” He shoots me a lascivious grin but the language sounds a little odd.
    “Well, yeah, I figured that from the leaves stuck to my bottom,” I say, grinning back. This guy ain’t no prissy restrained religious fanatic. He looks like a sex fanatic. Hopefully. “But I was headed to Manhattan,” I add while his eyebrows raise. “You know, New York–New York City? Subways, traffic, Broadway lights?”
    Now he gives me a look like I’m from Mars.
    “The only lights we possess here are sunlight, moonlight, candlelight. What is this broad light you speak of?”
    Now I give him the same expression.
    “Never mind that. Is there a bathroom anywhere? Or a building for that matter?”
    “Building?” His eyebrows raise again and I’m struck but the incredible crystalline blue of them. “Ah, our settlement. I am heading for it shortly. Will you wait?”
    I’ll wait a million years for you Gorgeous. Or, at least four hundred.
    Out loud I say, “Yes, I’ll wait. What are you doing with that axe?”
    I hide the smirk when I realized I’ve asked my musician boyfriend that same question in the past. But whose past? My past or the past I’ve apparently landed in somehow?
    “I am procuring firewood for the winter. I am almost finished.”
    “Oh, okay. I should have known.” I move clumsily toward a tree stump and drop down on it, fist under chin watching his muscles ripple as he raises and plunges the axe in the middle of a chunk of wood without batting a lash. “Wow.” I manage.
    “What?” he looks at me perplexed at the word.
    “Nothing. Just an expression of surprise.”
    “Like an ejaculation?” He asks devoid of suggestiveness.
    I nod without speaking since I can’t without suggestiveness.
    “So you’re part of the pilgrimage of the Nina, Pinta and Santa Marie?” I ask mainly to remove my vision from his body. “What did you do to get kicked out of Jolly Old England?”
    His face darkens.
    “I…killed someone.”
    “Why?”
    His eyebrows raise again but in pleasant surprise.
    “You are the first to ask me why.” he smiles and my heart jerks sideways. “Most just spit at me. Or curse me as a devil. My portion here is to do labor for the colony.” His face darkens again. “I was trying to protect someone from abuse when the abuser chose to try and fight me. I had no choice in the end.”
    “Sounds like justifiable homicide to me,” I add, thinking of a million ways I could punish him…

    Have to stop now & go to sleep.
    Happy Thanksgiving everyone!
    Patti

    Like

  7. jbrayweber says:

    This. This was wonderful, Patti. I loved it! The perfect Thanksgiving companion. 😀

    Like

  8. Will Graham says:

    Thank you, Jenn! It was tempting to have him say, “Ah’ll Be Back!” but I resisted….:)

    Like

  9. Jeff Salter says:

    Well, naturally I’m interested to know if Sven has a sister.
    But, until we see her, here’s Sven’s story:
    – – –
    Sven’s cell phone battery had died so he missed receiving the updated time and place for the firewood-chopping competition.
    All he had to go on was the address given him by the shy-looking young woman at the general store.
    It surprised him slightly that Elsa even knew about that competition, as she did not seem the outdoorsy type.
    Anyway, Sven drove his four-wheel-drive up to the address she’d provided… only to discover it was a single, isolated cabin in the forest.
    “Seems like an odd place for this competition,” he mused, as he exited his truck, whipped off his shirt, and grabbed his axe.
    In the front yard, Elsa waved and greeted him.
    “Where is everybody else?” he asked.
    “Who were you expecting?” she replied.
    “You know… the other guys I’m supposed to compete against in the firewood-cutting contest.”
    “Contest?” she asked innocently.
    He nodded.
    “Don’t know about a contest.”
    “Then why’d you hand me this address when I asked the store manager for the info on the contest?”
    “Must be some misunderstanding,” she said coyly. “I thought you were volunteering to chop wood and I have plenty around here.”
    At that point, she loosened the top five buttons of her flannel shirt, revealing impressive upper proportions, absent any other garments.
    Sven’s eyes grew large.
    “Uh, okay. I can chop a bit here for you.” He gulped. “Where should I begin?”
    “Well, I see some wood growing right there,” she pointed below his buckle.


    And that was a great place to start.

    Like

  10. jbrayweber says:

    HAHAHA! You NEVER disappoint, Jeff. Thanks for the hearty laugh, my friend. Happy Thanksgiving!

    Like

  11. Jeff Salter says:

    glad to oblige, Jenn. Your weekly feature here always seems to bring out the creativity bug in your many correspondents.

    Like

  12. pibarrington says:

    Thanks so much Jenn! I was going to actually put the correct “thee” “thou” etc., but I was too tired to work it. Anyway, thanks again!
    Patti.

    Like

  13. Rats! Late to the party again! (love the snow) Gee–I would have had something to be thankful for had I logged on instead of watching my football picks circle the drain like Aunt Edith’s lumpy gravy.

    Like

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: