Today the nice people in the Liar's Club of Pigeon Falls will let you see the six entries ( two came in late Sunday night) in thius years Liar's Club Contest.
My judges are reminded to send me an e-mail with the wining number after you have read them.
I am at
Writers are reminded to vote in the same manner. They can vote for any story but their own.
I wish all the participants good luck.
#### News from Pigeon Falls-The little town in my basement where the trains still run, dragons fly, and life is back to normal . Buddy East the Greatest Liar of all and President of the Pigeon Falls Liar's club posted this years entries today and here they are:
The Palace was only a few yards away but a pile of firewood was in the way. “ how are we going to get passed that?” Said dragon “ We could take turnssss moving it” said snake
Title: Old Bendy
The first time I saw him, he was working at the local garage in Old Bendy, Tennessee, changing oil in cars and keepin’ them runnin’ for the townsfolk. He was new to the area, so nobody knew his mama and daddy, or where exactly he come from, but his smile was so engagin’, none of us really minded. Me and my friend Trudy would walk past the garage, acting like we didn’t have a care in the world, lookin’ at him from the corner of our eyes, tryin’ to see if he was lookin’ back at us. The year I turned sixteen, he took it upon himself to say how-ya-do and my world turned upside-down. He was the handsomest man I’d ever laid eyes upon. My heart still skips a beat when I recall how his blue eyes made me feel like the prettiest girl in the world. The whole town was abuzz when he asked me to the annual Pig Poke. Trudy was so jealous she turned green around the gills. When I walked across that cow field toward the raging bomb-fire, my arm tucked
through his, I felt like a princess at the ball. And when we snuck into Old Man Myers hay loft later that night, well, let’s just say that he opened my eyes to a world I didn’t know existed and leave it at that.
We set up house later that spring and it felt as if all my dreams had come true. For the first month or so, we were as happy as two peas in pod. It wasn’t until after the summer solstice that things started to change. It seemed like nothin’ at first, just both of us needing to adjust to livin’ with another being we weren’t related to, but then one night he didn’t come home after work. I waited dinner until well after midnight, but he never showed. When he come in around six that next mornin’, he refused to tell me where he’d been or what he’d been doin’, but I could smell the debauchery wafting off him. All he said was that I needed to let him be, that he needed to get ready for work. It was after his shower, when his curly dark hair was matted down with wet that I noticed ‘em. Two small bumps on either side of his head. I’d ran my hands through those dark curls so many times, I knew they hadn’t been there before. I asked him if
he’d hurt himself and reached up to feel ‘em, but he knocked my hand away and told me again to leave him be.
Every night after that I spent by myself, waitin’ for him to come strolling in the next mornin’ as if nothin’ was amiss. I’d taken to cryin’ and throwin’ things at the door when he come in, which he would then use as an excuse for treating me poorly. I’m not proud of the way I acted, but a hurtin’ heart will do all it can to try and right itself, even if that includes losing some pride along the way.
He’d taken to dressin’ in the bathroom, so I hadn’t noticed anymore of the changes that were occurring until summer was closin’ in on fall. It was raining when he come in and his hair was flattened down like it had been when I first noticed those little bumps on his head. But now they weren’t so little anymore, standing at least three inches from his scalp. Even dry, his head full of curls wouldn’t be able to hide ‘em much longer. I waited ‘til he was in the shower, then snuck in all quiet like and peeked around the curtain. His back was to me, so I had full view. His once smooth skin was now red and raw lookin’. At first I thought maybe he’d been lashed, but then I realized that it was too neat lookin’, that the broken skin lay in perfect lines across his broad back and looked more like when you get a splinter and your body pushes it out on it’s own. Then I noticed that right at the top of his buttocks was a large puss filled
abscess. I’d never seen nothin’ like it, the only thing close that I’d witnessed was on an old mangy dog covered in sores that had to be put down. I hurried out of the bathroom, biting back tears. My dear husband was ill, probably close to dyin’ and was drinking away the nights in order to shield me from his pain.
When he come out, I handed him a cup of coffee and offered to make him breakfast. He squinted his blood shot eyes and tilted his head and studied me for a moment before saying he had to leave for work. Later that night, he come in much earlier than usual and lay with me. My heart lifted with the hope that maybe things would be okay and even if he was sick, I could help him and make things easier.
But the next mornin’ he was gone before I woke and didn’t return until two days later. He reeked of booze and perfume, and another odor lurking beneath the others. I couldn’t place it at first, but then realized it smelled like a combination of spoiled fruit and rancid meat. He told me to go to bed, that he was havin’ company. I told him no, so he said, suit yourself, and called out for them to come on in. Two ladies come in the door, both were, and you have to pardon my language, but they were nothin’ but tarts. I’d never been so angry in all my days. I demanded they leave and that’s when he did what he’d never done before. He hit me right across the cheek and told me to go to bed. I ran to the bedroom and locked the door, his and the whores’ laughter chasing me all the way. I buried my head under the pillows, trying to block out the noises coming from the other side, but nothin’ worked. I only prayed that they could hear my sobs as
I stumbled out of the bedroom after the longest night of my life and found all three of them curled together like kittens on my living room floor. He was laying on his belly, naked as the day he was born, and I noticed that the abscess was gone and had been replaced with what looked like, and I know how crazy this sounds, but it looked like a tail. It was about a foot long and sleepily twitched from side to side. I covered him before the tramps could see, naively assuming they hadn’t during their long night of wickedness.
I decided then and there that something had to be done. I hadn’t been to church in a coon’s age, but I didn’t know where else to turn. I roused Reverend Johnson out of his sleep and told him all that had been occurring in my home. We marched back, this time armed with scripture and a belief in goodness. All three of the fornicators were right where I left ‘em and the good Reverend scattered them with buckets of water. The trollops had the good sense to gather their things and leave, but he just lazily turned over and blinked his blood red eyes at us. A slow smile spread across his face and I noticed for the first time that his once straight teeth had become yellow and jagged.
Reverend Johnson asked him to cover himself. He just looked at us and kicked the blanket to the side. The Reverend said to him that his evil ways had to stop and he was there to help. The man I had given my whole heart to, who I had believed in more than myself, took it upon himself to curse at a man of God. I’d never been more appalled, as was Reverend Johnson. He told me that he could not allow me to stay with such a vile human being. I looked between the two men: the Reverend’s kind face and the smirking smile of the man I loved.
With a deep breath, I asked the Reverend to leave. A small chuckle that slowly tumbled into a full throaty laugh followed the good man back into the world. Only after closing and locking the door did I turn around. In the few minutes it had taken to escort my last salvation out, the transformation was complete. His lean body had shrunk at least a foot and was covered with greenish-blue scales. His beautiful hands were now claws and his arms dragged the ground as he walked. The foot-long tail had sprouted at least another three feet and jabbed at the air like a parent chastising a disrespectful child. I closed my eyes and conjured an image of the man he used to be, then I released what he no longer was and never would be again. The click-clack of his long nails sounded on the floor as he ran into my open arms.
Story number 3
I was on my way into Waianae Village to meet with the Pastor of the Waianae United Methodist Church. Halfway to the bus stop nearest our condo complex, I took a short cut across the lawn. A big black cloud rolled in – right over my head – and it began to rain on me! The patch of rain was no bigger than an umbrella – which I didn't have with me – so I stepped to the side. The cloud lurched after me.
I stepped to the side again. And again And again. The cloud matched me step for step! I dodged the other way, stumbling off the curb and into the street. The cloud followed, but stayed near the edge of the curb.
I walked up the road, parallel to the curb and the cloud moved along beside me. I stopped. It stopped. If I moved toward the lawn, the cloud got blacker and the rain poured harder. If I moved away, the rain lessened.
I turned and walked back the way I'd come. The cloud still followed. Finally it dawned on me that the cloud did not want me on the lawn. I looked away from the cloud and down at the grass. There were hundreds of little umbrella mushrooms all over the lawn! There were also hundreds of miniature people! They ran toward the mushrooms and seemed to vanish inside!
I moved closer, ignoring the rain, and carefully knelt near one of the mushrooms. I wanted a better look and wished for a magnifying glass, but had to settle for my bifocals. I couldn't believe it – the mushroom stalk had a little door, windows and … poof! It disappeared into the ground!
"Hey!" I shouted, then looked toward the rest of the mushroom village. They were all popping back into the ground. Only a couple dozen remained. I grabbed for my camera, fumbling with the case. I knew nobody would ever believe this story if I didn't have a photo!
I have since learned what the islanders have always known, the Menehene of Hawaii are still alive and well and living among us. They help those they like, trick those they don't, and get even with those who harm them. Luckily, I didn't step on any homes, so I am not exactly in their bad graces, but I did rile them a bit – I guess that's why all the photos on my camera came out blank but one, and it is very blurry, but you can just see the last mushroom disappearing into the ground.
Story Number 4
He came into my life the way most men do lately – through the garage door. He was sleek and black and walked with utter smoothness like an Olympic skater on ice.He walked into the living room and proceeded to find a spot of sun shining through the window on the couch and sat down. His black hair glistened and reflected back deep indigo around his ears.
Indigo. I had read somewhere that that had something to do with creatures with special powers and intuition. Could it be that he had heard my thoughts? My plea for help?
As he sat, he scanned the room with his green eyes for any sign of movement and rushed to the basement door once he saw that it was open.
With a single leap, he landed on the basement floor in a perfect stance. Chin uplifted, he moved his head back and forth, eyes closed as he appeared to be making a mental recording of the space.
He quickly left my view as I stood at the top of the stairs, too afraid to descend the stairs into the unknown.
I suddenly heard pots crashing and glass breaking --- but I had no pots or glass in the basement. Then suddenly a loud “EEE YAAAH” and then silence. The kind of silence that is so silent it is loud.
I wanted so desperately to take a few steps down and take a peek at what was happening as my curiosity was eating at me like a fat lady at a chocolate factory. But my fear was too great, I held back.
I saw him start to ascend the stairs and I quickly ran to the living room to stay out of his way.
He walked through the living room and out the garage door as smoothly as he came in. Then I saw him turn as I hurriedly followed him out the door.
He was gone. Like a poof of air. Just gone.
I was in a daze with what had just happened. I looked at the clock expecting that hours had passed. But the minute hand had barely moved.Was I imagining all this? What had happened? I had to run to the basement to see.
I’d tell you the rest of the story and what I found/didn’t find in the basement, but you would never believe me. But here is a block of cheese that is hard as rock that I left down there two weeks ago – and look, it is smooth as the day I bought it.
The autumn wind hummed through the rustling leaves; what an inspiring day to be in the woods! Buck had been coming to this spot many years for deer hunting.
Here, high on a ridge overlooking the river valley, the wind often sang these songs. It was exhilarating up here, enjoying the splendor of God’s world!
Today, Buck’s son-in-law, Jim, would join him at the end of the afternoon. Someone moving through the woods then might stir up some deer, and get them moving.
The afternoon sun was warm; Buck was so comfortable; he soon dozed off. An eagle flew over, screaming his rasping cry. Buck woke up, then dozed off again.
Awake again … maybe it was because the wind had picked up … it was getting chilly. Clouds pushed in, covering the sun; the woods were getting dark. The low hum of the wind was increasing to a chorus of moans and howls. Trees swayed, branches rose and fell, and leaves swirled through the air and tumbled across the hillside. How exciting!
Buck buttoned up against the wind’s chill. Although the wind was strengthening, it didn’t feel like rain.
So noisy; it would be hard to notice a deer moving. He’d have to pay attention. Jim should be coming up the hill soon.
What in the H***! What was that noise? Maybe Jim’s old truck … coming apart? This noise was like a bird cry … A crescendo ending in a loud “Whoosh”! IMAGINATION? NO! It was like nothing Buck had ever heard, or could even try to explain. “I hope it’s not something serious with Jim’s old truck. That pickup has seen its better days.”
Yelling, “Jim … are you okay?” … Buck waited for an answer … none! Man … there’s that God-awful noise again!
Checking his cell phone, and his gun: loaded, Buck dashed down the hill. He could hear the pounding of his heart!
By his own truck now; no Jim, yet! Panic took over. "I’m no hero … I’m leaving!" Not even casing his gun, Buck gave a prayer of thanks that the truck started.
Looking over by the rock pile at the river’s edge, Buck’s head began to swim! AN UNBELIEVABLE SIGHT! His first thought was that he was looking at a giant lizard. No lizards around here! This beast was huge! And, looking right at him! A hissing roar, like water on a hot stove … a smoky cloud of fire burst out of the beast’s mouth.
Buck’s truck had never gone so fast down this road before. He punched the 911 number on his cell phone. At the big corner, Buck met Jim driving in and motioned him to follow. Buck kept on his mad dash back toward town.
Later, Buck, still shaking … embarrassed … gave information for the Sheriff and the DNR officer … not really caring what they thought of his story. Would he ever go back to his favorite hunting spot? Not likely … not soon, anyway
Lois woke up. It was the middle of the night; everything was so still and quiet. What woke her up? As her eyes focused, she saw the moonlight streaming in the window. Awake now, she decided to look out at the beauty of moonlight upon the snow. It was so gorgeous! The shadows of the old apple trees lay long upon the sparkling, pristine white snow. Nothing, not even a deer, was moving around. WAIT! … that large shape coming down the hill! It couldn’t be a bear; the bear are all hibernating! Maybe it’s just a shadow of a cloud moving across the moon?
A moment of panic, a fleeting thought that “this must be a dream” … Lois decided that she’d just seen that huge rock halfway up the hill … Imagination!
Her brother and Dad were asleep, but she knew that each kept a loaded shotgun handy. Silly to panic or to wake anybody up.
Scolding herself, Lois decided to enjoy the beauty of the moment. The snow sparkled like thousands of diamonds. Dark outlines of the trees and their gnarled branches made a tapestry pattern of black and white. The stark black woods made a background, accentuating drifts of diamonds and pristine white swells of snow. Stars twinkled across the velvet night sky. It was just so beautiful! God’s artistry, undeniably!
No camera could translate this beauty to a piece of paper. The mind’s eye must do; a memory like this could last forever. A “this-is-as-good-as-it-gets moment”. Lois, grateful for having awakened to enjoy this secret moment, absorbed this magnificence of moonlight-on-snow!
NOW … WHAT WAS THAT NOISE? More imagination? … no … Lois was completely awake now … NOT imagination! The noise: like the rush and roar of an old furnace when you’d open the door. Her heart pounding, she could hear it thump. Afraid to move or scream, almost afraid to look, she focused on the dark shadows near the big rock up the hill. Was the rock moving? YES! The rock was to the other side of the old white pine! IMPOSSIBLE! More roaring fire-like noise … a smoky cloud of fire glowed where the rock had been!
NOW … SCREAMING WAS CERTAINLY APPROPRIATE! Lois’s Dad, brother, and mother rushed in. Lois, unable to put anything into words, only pointed towards that spot up the hill.
Her mother hugged her; her Dad and brother, with shotguns, ran out onto the porch.
Nobody found anything unusual … not even by the big rock where she’d told them to look … just some snow panked down by the big rock …. “Must have been some deer laying there in the snow”.
Lois felt foolish; she knew she had really seen and heard something-A DRAGON?!
She felt better, though, when her Grandmother, born and raised on this farm, whispered to her, “Lois, when I was your age, I saw that same dragon by the big rock. That was exactly 50 years ago! Nobody believed me, either!”
Today's Link-The Poor Farm
My thanks to Javagogh who pointed out that the formating on explorer was weird. It was fine on firefox, so I wouldn't have noticed.
It was one of those days. In the morning I fought with Vista trying to cut a DVd that could run on a TV but the security set up wouldn't let me using a windows program. So I did everything they told me till I got to the point where I was supposed to put a check in the box in front of the program I wanted excused from the security program. The problem was that there were no programs in the list box and no way to get any in there to put the church. So after two hours I gave up. My little sister called. She was visiting Springfield the home of Lincoln. It was nice to hear her voice. She has a new car because the garage let her old car fall off the lift and wrecked it. She has all the luck. I cut a DVD in the afternoon with all the choir *.movs and *.avis on it.
Now I need a breathing treatment.
Betty's sisters visit