Lover of all things purple (except maybe prose); historian and keeper of dark truths; maven of watercolor and drawings of life; sultry mistress with dominion over her tribe of scribes and Friday littérateurs of fantastic fiction; Madam Rochelle Wisoff-Fields has honored her humble servant by promotion to the elite order of photo contributors.
To wit, I must now contrive some presentable intrigue in fewer than 101 words, discounting this introduction, the preface (title, wordcount, and genre), and my additional postscript.
Click on “old blue” (or green) for a smooth ride on over to Rochelle’s place to glean other rules of literary engagement.

Genre: Texas Gothic
Title: Organic Disposal
Word Count: 100
***
I met her on the front porch. “Hi Furie, where’s Fenix?”
“She’s inside reading. I’m going to sit on that old rusty truck and write some Texas Gothic. It inspires me.”
“I noticed they moved it and put in a hog pen.”
I could see her wheels turning. “Right, Opa. You know, pigs and hogs are a great way to get rid of physical crime evidence. They’ll eat anything organic, including flesh and bone. And they can be trained to make life difficult for the Sheriff or some dingbat country cop.”
She smiled and waved as the Sheriff pulled up.
Look both ways for fact or fiction.
Mind the gaps and plot twists of creative teenage minds.
***

Dear Bill,
I’m blushing at that intro. Sultry? Love it. Thank you.
As for your story…one of my very young coworkers shared that an icicle is also a great murder weapon. It melts, leaving no fingerprints. Or a frozen loaf of bread for blunt force trauma. I didn’t know about pigs, but I can tell you that chickens make most excellent garbage disposals.
Texas Gothic is a new genre on me. Well done.
Shalom,
Rochelle
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Thank you, Rochelle.
I was referring to the pic you used today. 🙂
Texas Gothic is a sub of Southern Gothic
Thank you.
Peace,
Bill
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😀
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🙂
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I suspect the sheriff is going to leave empty-handed and disappointed.
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Maybe some pig poop on his boots.
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True of pigs. Great story. Wonder who they ate this time… or will it be the dingbat sheriff?????
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Hi Bear. The sheriff is fine. They really did move that truck to build a place to raise the pigs.
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I’m envisioning it. hehe!
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I agree with Iain’s comment. Though it’s also possible the sheriff may not leave at all
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That would draw too much attention. They know where he is. And what to do with his car? 😉
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Fact or fiction, she is a clever one. Poor sheriff doesn’t stand a chance…
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They both are. Twins. The sheriff is fine. 🙂
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I love writing within intriguing settings, the truck would be fun. Good story.
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Me too, Mason.
The porch encounter is true. She was going to sit on the hood of that truck to write. And they did have to move the truck to make a space to raise the pigs. 🙂
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Being true events makes the story all the more fun. I have a big tree in the woods close to my home. I love to go and climb it and then sit and write in the thick branches.
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I have several places. 🙂
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Love it, you get to chose which to enjoy depending on what you feel like writing.
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Yep.
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Thank you.
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This was great! What an intro – almost as good as the story!
So… all a-ya’all have got some sneaky ways over there…
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Thanks, Dale. It’s almost all true. The truck, pigs, my step-grand daughters, and she did go sit on the truck and write. They do write Texas Gothic stories.
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I didn’t doubt it was true, for some reason. Didn’t think there actually WERE bodies once in the muck…
Step-granddaughters, eh Opa?
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Yep. When our first granddaughter was in Belgium (where she lives), she called me “Opa in Amerika.” It’s like my name to them. 🙂
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I love it.
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hmmm, knew I liked pigs for a reason.. Guess that’s why everyone freaked out when Dorothy fell in the pen.
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The pigs were apparently wonderful pets, but took time and effort to care for.
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Beware of Arnold Ziffel. I never knew pigs could be that evil
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Ah, they are just hungry and not very fussy.
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A great tale Bill. You’re absolutely right about the pigs. We used to fatten them up when I was a young whipper snapper and they were fed all sorts of interesting things including pig swill, basically anything thrown out from restaurants, school dinners, food processing plants.
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Thank you, Peter.
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Bill, I love the intro to your story. Rochelle *is* the leader of the “tribe of scribes” for sure.
Good image to write to. I had fun with it 🙂
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Thank you, Lisa.
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You’re welcome.
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I had a piece of pork the other day that tasted very odd, now you’ve got me wondering!
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Oh dear. Days ago? I’m sue you’re safe, Keith.
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He’ll have to hope the pigs were really hungry.
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Wonderful intro and story. And I learned some new things about pigs. Who would have thought??
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Thanks, Margaret. Lovely animals. 🙂
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Ah, the wild imagination of a Gothic Writer. By the way, where is Oma?
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On that day, watching the television. 🙂
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Furie and Fenix – what wonderful names! A fun slice of life, Bill.
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Thanks, Penny. I agree about the names. 🙂
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I’m learning a lot about things I possibly shouldn’t be learning about tonight reading through these responses. I actually managed to finish mine on an upbeat.
Best wishes,
Rowena
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Thanks, Rowena. Back at ya.
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Someone knows a little too much about destroying evidence… 😉
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Oh, the demands of claiming to be a writer. 🙂
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the intro was a treat in itself. great job this week. 🙂
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Thank you very much.
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Ooooo a wonder what evidence those pigs are hiding… unless it’s evidence to come! Clever piece
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Thank you, Laurie.
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even without pigs it’s a tough job for the police
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Many reasons for that. 🙂
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Oh, she is planning ahead, methinks. You never now when these pigs come in handy. What a fun story.
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You never do know. Right! Thanks. Glad you enjoyed it.
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Great story. I love the idea of Texas Gothic. Just hope the pigs cooperate if necessary so that’s me wanting them to get away with whatever they’ve done!
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Thank you, Jilly.
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HA HA … the things you learn when you read stories on FF.
I had no idea about pigs. It does sound like something is amiss.
interesting view of the photo prompt, Bill.
Isadora 😎
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Thanks, Isadora.
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Clever tale, Bill. When I was a youngster, we’d raise a couple of hogs a year to butcher. During furbearing season, my Dad would often throw possum carcasses in the hog pen. They disappeared fast.
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There’s a story about an old farmer who dropped dead in the pen. All they found of him was his false teeth. Yikes. 🙂
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Yes. They start at the rectum and eat their way up. At least they recovered the false teeth. 🙂
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TMI. 🙂
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The intro and the story both made me smile. And now, I’m thinking of a smile like in the limerick: There once was a lady from Niger. That kind of smile. Maybe. 😉 Fun story and thanks so much for the great pick too!
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I’m glad you liked it. 🙂
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First of all thanks a big bunch for the picture prompt, Bill. So many possibilities with a picture like that.
That was such a clever take for your own prompt. 🙂
https://natashamusing.com/2022/02/uncle-bills-blue-truck-friday-fictioneers-friday-fiction/
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Thank you, Natasha.
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Nice
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