Word: cull

 

cull

\ kuhl \  , verb;

1. to choose; select; pick.

2. to gather the choice things or parts from.

3. to collect; gather; pluck.

noun:

1. act of culling.

2. something culled, especially something picked out and put aside as inferior.

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“The lioness pounces on her prey, locking her jaws into the hapless victim’s neck, killing it.  In this way, she has not only fed herself and her young, but also helped to cull the herd of the sick and weak members…”  The TV announcer said as an image of a lioness taking down a zebra played on the screen.  Eddie watched this happen with rapt attention.  So much so that he didn’t notice his older brother, George come in and lean over the couch.

                “You’re watching a nature show?  Seriously?”  George asked.  Eddie was more than little startled by the sudden question, but did his best to hide it.

                “Yeah well, you how mom won’t let us watch anything violent, right?”

                “Yeah?”

                “Well, this is almost as good, and she can’t complain because it’s technically educational.”

                “Almost as good?  How?”  George asked.  Eddie just smiled and pointed to the screen.

                “An intruding male has entered the pride.  The dominant male here faces off with the intruder to defend his place.  After a brief territorial display, the two lions fight for their place, one to protect, and the other to take.”  The announcer said.

                “Oh, I get it now.”  George said as he watched the two lions duke it out.  “Good idea.”

                “Isn’t it just?  Gotta love the little loopholes.”  Eddie said, more than a little proud of himself. 

                “I have taught you well little brother.”  George said, joining Eddie on the couch.  The two brothers watched the show for a while until their mother came in.  She carried a tray with some form of homemade pastries on it.

                “And just what are you boys watching?  I hope it’s not anything violent.”  She said.

                “No mom, it’s a nature show.”  Eddie said.

                “Really?  Well, good for you then.  Always good to know you two are taking an interest in educating yourselves.”  She said.  She was beaming at her sons’ choice of programming.  She made a mental note to brag about it to the other neighborhood mothers at the next appropriate moment.  “Anyway, I’ve made a new batch of pasties, and I want your opinions on them.” 

                The two boys attention immediately went from the TV to the tray their mom was holding.  She was well known in the neighborhood for her pastries for two reasons.  One was that she never made anything conventional.  All the baked goods she made were her own unique creations.  The second was that she was very, very good at making them.  What most people didn’t know, was that not every creation turned out to be a success.  Some of them turned out downright terrible.  George, Eddie, and their dad had been designated as the taste-testers, picking out only those experiments that tasted good, and eliminating the failures.  They didn’t mind, since the pastries that turned out well turned out very well, and most of the failures weren’t exactly inedible either.  There were some that turned out bad, but those were getting increasingly rare as she continued to hone her craft.

                The brothers rushed over to see what kinds of treats their mom had made.  The tray was filled with a wide variety of goodies, some were new kinds of cookies, others looked to be stuffed with some form of cream or jelly.  Still others were covered with frosting or chocolate in colorful and creative patterns.  Eddie licked his lips and took one of the puffed pastries.  George opted for a cookie. 

Eddie put the entirety of the small, bite sized pastry in his mouth and chewed slowly.  George took a bite out of his, holding onto the other half as he rolled the bite around in his mouth. 

“What’s in this one mom?”  Eddie asked after he swallowed.

“Peanut butter, a little jelly, and just a hint of cream and sugar.” 

“It’s not bad, but it might be too complex.”  Eddie said, “Sometimes it’s better to make it simpler.  Maybe get rid of the cream?” 

“Ok, I’ll try that out.”  She said.  Thanks to her baking method, the men in her family had become very good at critiquing her pastries, and she had long since found that their opinions tended to have more positive impacts than negative.

“Um, mom, I think this one’s a no go.”  George said, looking at the remaining half of the cookie.  “It’s kind of bitter.”

“Really?  It shouldn’t be.  I think I was going for sour with that one.”

“I guess you went overboard then, and crossed from sour to bitter.  It’s no good.  Sorry mom.”

“Oh well, maybe next time.”  She said, shifting the cookies of that type to the side.  “Anyway, onto the next ones.”

The boys continued to taste their mother’s newest creations.  As the taste-test went on, more and more of them were placed aside due to being no good.  Still others were moved into a pile for alterations, while a very few were said to be good as is. 

“So boys, what’s your overall opinion this time?”  She asked once the children were finished.

“Not your best batch, mom.  But I don’t think it’s your worst either.”  George said.

“Definitely.  But this one’s really good.”  Eddie said, taking another of a chocolate puffed pastry stuffed with cream that used strawberry and pineapple juices for added flavor.

“Alright, thanks boys.  Now I just have to find your father and ask him, and we’ll be in business.  Now you two go back to your nature show.  And don’t let me catch you watching one of those violent shows on other channels.” 

“Yes, mother.”  Eddie said.  He shot his brother a sly smile as he returned to the couch.  The look was returned by George as they both sat down.

“Gotta love our mom.”  George said as he watched a pair of lion cubs play fighting.

“Yup.”  Eddie agreed.  The two brothers did their best to keep from laughing, only partially succeeding.  

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Let's hear it for the moms!  Hm, maybe I should've saved something like this for Mother's Day.  But then again, I do write quite a few things about mothers and children, don't I?  It's just such a nice topic for stories that I can't resist.  

Word: Porpoise

porpoise

\ PAWR-puhs \  , verb;

1. to move forward with a rising and falling motion.

2 (of a speeding motorboat) to leap clear of the water after striking a wave.

3. (of a torpedo) to appear above the surface of the water.

noun:

1. any of several small, gregarious cetaceans of the genus Phocoena, usually blackish above and paler beneath, and having a blunt, rounded snout, especially the common porpoise, P. phocoena, of both the North Atlantic and Pacific.

2. any of several other small cetaceans, as the common dolphin, Delphinus delphis.

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The sun shone high and bright over the open ocean, the light glinting like gemstones as the small speedboat jumped over the waves.  A warm breeze blew over the passengers, full of the pungent smell of the salt water.  Seagulls flew overhead, calling out to other members of their flock, periodically diving down into the water to catch an unlucky fish.

                Lora wasn’t interested in any of those though.  She kept a sharp eye out for the animals she was looking for.  Her two kids sat in the back of the boat, leaning over the edge as much as their mother would let them, looking for the signs of life that their mother had told them about.

                “Mom, look!”  Called Kevin, the younger of the two children, “I see them!  There’s dolphins swimming around us?”  He looked excitedly over the edge, and his older sister, Jackie, joined him.  Lora slowed the boat to a crawl to make sure that her son had spotted the correct animal.

                “No, those aren’t dolphins, Kevin.  Those are called porpoises.”  She said.  She could understand her son’s confusion.  To the young boy, the two were essentially interchangeable.

                “Are you sure?  They look like dolphins.”  The young boy said.  Lora stopped the boat and moved carefully to join her kids.

                “Yes, I am.  See how their faces are kind of flat and round?  Dolphins have a longer, thinner mouth instead.  These guys are also much smaller than dolphins are.”

                “Do we still get to go in the water with them?” Jackie asked, not taking her eyes off the sleek bodies of the porpoises.

                “No, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”  Lora said.  “I don’t think their too dangerous to us, but they won’t play like dolphins would either.  I don’t think you’d have much fun with these guys.”

                “Oh.”  The young girl said sadly.  “So are there any dolphins around here?”
                “There should be.  At least, that’s what Uncle Bobbie said.  He might have gotten the two mixed up though.”

                “Are we gonna keep looking?”  Kevin asked hopefully.

                “Of course.  The two sometimes live in the same places, so there still might be some dolphins around here. “

                “Will it be soon?”

                “No, I don’t think so.  We might have some trouble finding them.”

                “Oh, ok.” Kevin said.  Both of the children looked crestfallen.

                “Are you two sure you don’t want to go to an aquarium?  There’s definitely going to be dolphins there.  And if we get there at the right time, they’ll even put on a show.”

                “It’s not as good though there.”  Jackie said.  “Uncle Bobbie said that the best place to see dolphins is in the ocean, ‘cause we can play with those.  They don’t let us play with the ones in the aquarium.”

                “I think they might let you if you ask really nicely.”  Lora said.  She had seen on the local aquarium’s website that they did let young children swim with the dolphins.  It was only for a few minutes, and it would cost her, but it was an option.  Although it was a very nice day out, and she was enjoying the sea breeze, it was also quite a bit easier to just go someplace where they knew there would be dolphins, instead of the unsureity presented by trying to find the animals in the wild.

                “Yeah, but they might not.” Jakie insisted.  “If we find them here, then we know we can.”

                “Yeah!” Kevin enthusiastically agreed.  “Come on mom, let’s keep going!”  He said.  Lora took a sighed and smiled.  The hopeful look on her children’s faces make it quite a bit more difficult to argue with them.  Besides, they both had something of a stubborn streak—she insisted that came from their father—and so it was futile to change their mind about something like this. 

                “Ok, ok.  Just don’t lean over the edge too much, alright?”  She said as she started the boat back up.

                “Ok.”  Both said in unison.  As the boat took off, the two children went right back to looking over the edge, keeping a close eye out for any signs of dolphins.  

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Porpoise,  Dolphin.  Yeah, they are kind of similar, but different.  Also, don't you just LOVE it when kids make up their mind to do something, no matter what happens? 

Word: Quell

quell

\ kwel \  , verb;

1. to suppress; put an end to; extinguish: The troops quelled the rebellion quickly.

2. to vanquish; subdue.

3. to quiet or allay (emotions, anxieties, etc.): The child's mother quelled his fears of the thunder.

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                “This isn’t going to work!”  Shouted one of the two men over to din of the machine.

                “It’ll work.  I promise.”  Said the other.  “I’ve worked this out in dozens of simulations, it’ll work.”  A gleeful look came to his face as he hit some keys on the computer in front of him.  The noise from the machine grew as a deep blue light issued forth from inside of it.

                “Simulations aren’t the same as the real thing, Damion, you know that.  There’s hundreds of variables here that can’t be simulated on a computer.” 

                “Please, Ira.  Don’t you think I know that?  My simulations take into account as many of those hundreds of variables as I can think of.”  Damion said, confident that his creation would work.  He looks at the monitor of the computer and hit a few more keys.  The light coming from the devise turned from blue to green.

                “What about those you couldn’t think of?”

                “It would have to be something extraordinary.  I’ve planned for anything that could happen in this location.  You need to have more faith, my friend.  You know what this devise could do for the world if it works.”

                “And you know what it could do to the world if it doesn’t.”

                Damion glanced at his coworker, forming his next argument.  Then, something on the monitor caught his eye and made him forget about words.  His face lit up with excitement as he furiously worked.  The noise from the machine quieted and the light it gave off dimmed and began pulsing intermittently.

                “There, you see?” Damion said triumphantly.  “I told you it would work!”  Ira stared at the glowing mass of metal, plastic and glass in front of him.  He didn’t believe it, but Damion was right.  It seemed to be working exactly as intended.  He sighed, not sure whether to be relieved that it worked, or frustrated that the other man was the one who made it function.

                “Fine, fine.”  He said finally.  “You were right.  It works.”

                “Indeed I was.  Now then, we’ve got lots of things to talk about.  We have to tell the world!  Oh, think about it, Ira.  We’ll be famous!  The two men who changed the world!”

                “I suppose it would be nice to have some recognition.”

                “Yes, now then, let’s go and…”  A sudden sound like two small beads of glass or metal hitting each other interrupted him.  He turned to look at the machine.  The light started to change colors again, this time to yellow.  “No, no, this isn’t what was supposed to happen.”  Damion said, looking at the computer screen.

                “What’s wrong?”  Ira asked.

                “I don’t know, but it’s not supposed to be doing this.”

                “Well, turn it off.  If something’s wrong, then we can fix it later.”

                “No, no.  No need for that.  I can deal with it.”

                “Are you sure?”  Ira asked, getting a bit worried.  A low pitched buzzing came from the machine, and steadily picked up volume.

                “Yes, I’m sure.”  Damion said, furiously hitting keys.  The light began to change colors, but this time it didn’t settle on one.  It shifted colors at an increasing speed as the buzzing grew louder.

                “This isn’t right.” Ira said.  “This is getting dangerous.  I’m turning this off.”  He said as he went to another computer screen. 

                “No!”  Damion called out.  He abandoned his own work and grabbed Ira’s hand before anything could be done.  “I can fix it!  I can stop it and get it working again!”  He shouted over the increasing volume.

                “With enough time, maybe, but right now, we have to stop this before it becomes catastrophic!”  Ira shouted.

                “It won’t!  I’ll make sure it doesn’t!”

                “I’m sorry, but I can’t take that risk!”  Ira shouted.  The noise was becoming almost deafening.  He wondered if Damion had even heard his words, even while standing only a few inches apart.  He twisted his hand out of Damion’s grasp and began working to shut down the machine.

 Damion looked on as Ira worked and a moment of panic came over him.  If it was shut down now, he might never be able to get it working right again.  For him, this was the last and only chance.  It a fit of sheer desperation, he balled up his fist and hit Ira square in the face.  The other man staggered back and away from the computer, his head spinning from the sudden blow.  Damion looked panicked, his arm still raised in the position it had been when it had connected.

“What are you doing?” Ira shouted.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t let you shut it down.”  Called out over the ever increasing noise.

“You know that isn’t possible now.  We have to shut to down!” 

Damion didn’t answer.  Ira didn’t know if it was because he didn’t hear or didn’t care about his words.  Damion turned and went back to his computer and resumed his attempts to make the machine work.  Ira took a deep breath and ran at his friend, tackling him to the ground.  He tried to get up and run to the computer to turn it off, but was stopped by Damion taking hold of his leg. 

Damion used all his strength to pull Ira’s leg out from under him, making the other man fall.  Ira rolled over and groaned as he sat up.  He looked around for Damion, who was already making his way back to the computer.  He stood up as quickly as he could and grabbed Damion from behind, holding him as tightly as he could.

Damion stomped down hard on Ira’s foot, bringing out a cry of pain from the other man.  But he was still held firm.  Ira risked taking one hand off and brought it to Damion’s neck.  He hoped he could remember the right place as he pinched the neck, hoping to knock Damion out.  It didn’t work. 

Damion took the opportunity to break free and turned on Ira, and knocked him to the ground with a savage punch.  Instead of letting up though, Damion fell on top of Ira, and brought his fist up to land another blow on the downed man.  Before he could though, a sudden, shrill scream from the machine caught the attention of both men.

Before either could react, a wave of force burst forth from the thing.  The wave knocked both men back against the wall, knocking the wind out of both of them.  Somehow, they managed to cling to consciousness though, albeit painfully so.  Almost as soon as the force wave hit them, the light coming from the machine dimmed, and then suddenly grew out in a brief, blinding flash of light.  And then, all was quiet.

“What happened?”  Ira asked as he staggered to his feet.

“I-I don’t know.” Damion responded as he followed suit.

“Well, whatever it is, it seems to be over.”

“Yes, I…the machine!  What happened to it?”  He said, looking at the device.

It was clearly broken.  Masses of twisted metal and broken glass lay scattered of the ground around it.  Small twinkling lights still made themselves known in the wreckage, but those too soon dies out.  Even the computers had been smashed to pieces by the blast, and the various parts lay scattered around the room. 

“It looks like it simply self destructed.” Ira said.  He tried to sound sympathetic, but he was glad it was broken.  Damion fell to his knees as he looked at the wreckage.  “Well, at least the damage was minimal.”  Ira placed a consolatory hand on his friend’s shoulder.  Damion simply looked blankly at the remains of the machine.  Suddenly, a tiny bit of movement in the middle of the wreckage caught his eye. 

                “Wait, something’s moving there.”  He said.

                “What?  But that can’t be right.”  Ira said.  He looked intently at the wreckage.  Another small movement came from under a pile of metal fragments.  “What the…?” Ira said numbly.  He reflexively helped Damion to his feet and the two men went to see what their actions had wrought. 

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I think some dramatic music should be playing at the end there, don't you?  And what could it be?  What could it be?  I have some ideas, but whether or not I tell you all is entirely up to me.  Muahahaha and all that.