Word: Slapdash

 

slapdash

[slap-dash] / ˈslæpˌdæʃ /

adverb

1. in a hasty, haphazard manner.

   He assembled the motor slapdash.

   ******************************* 

                   “Wow. That looks terrible.”

                   Ben’s head slammed into the car he was working on. The car shook slightly, with some parts rattling in ways that Ben did not like. He rubbed his head at the point of impact and slid out from under the vehicle.

                   When he sat up, he saw his brother, Kyle, standing near the door to the garage with a wide grin on his face. Ben let out a low growl.

                   “Seriously? You come in here and that that’s what you tell me?”

                   “Sorry man, but you gotta admit it’s a pretty damn terrible car.”

                   Ben clenched and relaxed his fists. “Well maybe if I had more than a god-damned week to build it, I could’ve made it better.

                   “Hey, nobody said you had to do it on your own.”

                   Ben stood. He was covered with dirty and grease, but he did not care at that moment. Kyle was looking way too smug. Ben was tempted to wipe some of the grease on his dear brother’s shirt, but he held off. Barely.

                   “Oh no? Remind me again who said I could build a car in a week?”

                   To his credit, Kyle did look ashamed. Briefly. “I thought you could.”

                   “I can. I just can’t build a car that’s race worthy. Which was, you know, the entire point of having a custom car built.”

                    “And…will it be race worthy?”

                   Ben looked at his brother, and then at the haphazardly built car. The fiberglass that made up the outside was warped in several places. The front wheel axels were visibly out of alignment. The rear wheel assembly was held in place by duct tape. The windshield looked like it was going to pop out at any moment.

                   “You. Tell. Me.” Ben said through clenched teeth.

                   “So that’s a no?”

                   “That’s a no, and it’s also you’re an idiot for making me even try doing this. I mean, come on, what were you thinking?”

                   “I was thinking my little brother is a mechanical genius who could work miracles?”

                   Ben was not impressed by Kyle’s attempt at flattery. He knew what lay behind those words. He stood there and crossed his arms.

                   “Okay, fine. I thought I could make some serious cash on a long shot bet. Happy now?”

                   “No. I think you’re an even bigger idiot. Remember when I told you that ‘no, I can’t build a racing car in a week?’ Remember when I very clearly said that?”

                   “I thought you were being modest. You know, sell yourself short so that when you succeed you look like a miracle worker.”

                   “In what world do I ever do something like that? When was the last time you heard me even try something like that?”

                   Kyle did not answer. He avoided eye contact completely.

                   “Maybe if you had gotten me a team of people we could’ve done it. But by myself? There was no chance I’d make it. If you just want it to work, sure. I can do that. But you asked me to do the impossible, and now you’re surprised when I’m not going to make it.”

                   “Okay, okay. You’ve made your point. So what am I supposed to do? I put a lot of money on you succeeding.”

                   “Take your loss and move on. It’s what the rest of us do when we lose a bet. Now get out of here. I might not be able to get it fully race worthy, but I’ll be damned if I’m going to leave it in this state. It’ll work by the end of the week. Not well, but it will. What you do with that is up to you. I’m washing my hands of this whole thing once I’m done.”

                   Without waiting for Kyle to say anything else, Ben turned around and slid under the car. He had a lot of work to do and very little time to do it in.

                  

    

Word: Davenport

davenport 

[dav-uhn-pawrt, -pohrt] / ˈdæv ənˌpɔrt, -ˌpoʊrt /

noun

1. a large sofa, often one convertible into a bed.

2. Chiefly British. a small writing desk.

 ****************************

                When the light died down, Vince gazed upon a space he had not seen in years. Well, years from his point of view anyway. To the rest of the world, it was mere minutes. The wonders of otherworld travel never ceased to amaze.

                “So this is your home.” Celia said. She looked around and her face furrowed. “It’s…it’s not what I expected.”

                “It’s okay, you can say it. It’s a tiny, rundown apartment in the worst part of the city. I know what it is.”

                “Well, when you spoke about the wonders of your world, I assumed even a small home would be…more than this.”

                Vince gave a half-hearted chuckle. He was glad she had chosen to come on the trip with him, he really was. He was also a bit disappointed that he would no longer amaze her with tales of wonderous technology. At least she would finally be able to try real pizza now.

                “Hopefully you’ll see some better parts tomorrow.”

                “Why tomorrow?”

                “Because today I have to get you clothes so that you don’t stand out too much.”

                Celia wore long robes and accessories that would look perfect in a ren faire, but not on a normal sidewalk. She would stand out too much and be on the internet in seconds. He did not want her first experience to be going viral.

                “I can’t wear this?” She asked, looking down at her own outfit.

                “Not the best idea. I’ll have to change as well, but I already have the clothes to go outside in and not attract attention.”

                “Ah, I see. Well, can you show me around this place first?”

                “Uh, sure. This is the living room. That’s the kitchen, and that’s the bathroom.” He said, pointing out the areas. The only one with a door between them was the bathroom.

                “What about a bedroom?”

                “Yeah, we’re in there now.”

                “Here? Where’s the bed?”

                Vince pointed at the couch. It was fairly large, but not in the best shape. Celia got as worried look on her face.

                “That’s…please tell me you don’t sleep on that.”

                “I do, but it’s not as bad as it looks. It’s not great, but still. Here, let me show you.”

                Vince removed the cushions from the couch, grabbed a small handle, and pulled. The couch unfurled into a small bed. Celia’s eyes opened wide with joy.

                “Oh! That’s quite the clever thing. I had no idea a bed could be built into a sofa like this. I’m sure the idea will go over wonderfully when we return.”

                Vince was not so sure. “Uh, before we start selling this idea, maybe you should try it first.”

                “Why? Is there something wrong?”

                Vince did not answer. Celia shrugged and got on the couch-bed. She lay down and immediately started tossing around.

                “Yeah.” Vince said. “That lump will never go away. It’s the support bar under the mattress, so it’s pretty much just there.”

                “How long did you sleep on this…monstrosity of a bed?”

                “A few years. Remember when we first met I had a lot of back problems? Well, this is why. It’s not actually supposed to be a primary bed. It’s meant for an emergency guest accommodation. But this apartment is too small for anything else, so it’s what I have to use.”

                Celia slid off the bed and went to Vince, wrapping her arms around him in a sympathetic embrace. “Oh, you poor dear. I had no idea you were suffering so much.”

                Vince returned the hug. It did not last long, but it was still nice.

                “Well, we only have to put up with it for a month before we go back. Let me tell you, I definitely won’t miss this part. Anyway, see that little white box in the kitchen? That’s called a mini-fridge. It keeps food cold. I should have some things in there. I’m going to go change and get you some things to wear. Then we can go over what we’ll be doing while we’re here.”

                She nodded. “Okay. Is there anything else I can do while you’re gone?”

                Vince reached into his inventory, glad the magical storage ability still worked, and pulled out his phone. He had not touched it since the battery died years ago, but now he had a way to recharge it. A quick search brought him to the power cord, and the device was still charging.”

                “It’ll be a little while, but you can use this while it’s charging. Now that we’re here, it’ll actually work.”

                He gave her the code to unlock it and a brief tutorial on how to work it. With that done, he changed from the high class fantasy clothes he had been wearing to the common, non-fantasy variety. Then he headed out to find a clothing store and think about what he would do for the next month.

Word: Mercurial

mercurial

[mer-kyoor-ee-uhl] / mərˈkyʊər i əl /

adjective

1. changeable; volatile; fickle; flighty; erratic.

   a mercurial nature.

2. animated; lively; sprightly; quick-witted.

3. pertaining to, containing, or caused by the metal mercury.

4. (initial capital letter) of or relating to the god Mercury.

5. (initial capital letter) of or relating to the planet Mercury.

 ********************************************

                When Alan had heard he had been chosen to be the fairy princess’s bodyguard during her visit to human lands, he had some ideas about what the job would be like. He had pictured a dainty, ethereal beauty. Maybe a bit of a mischievous streak, but still gentle and stately. The kind of woman that songs were written about. No, not songs. Odes. Maybe even a full epic poem.

                That was not what he got. Not by a long shot.

                “Ooo, what’s that?”

                The princess zipped around the marketplace to get a closer look at whatever shiny thing caught her attention. It was easy for her to do, considering she was barely a foot tall. Alan groaned as he pushed his way passed the crowds to catch up to his charge.

                He caught the princess using a well-polished plate as a mirror. She was making faces in it, contorting her face in ways that would be fun for a child. And, apparently a fairy. She Did a small twirl and her wings hit the plate, sending it clattering into nearby sets of tableware. Luckily, none of them were damaged, and the shopkeeper seemed more amused than anything.

                The fairy princess giggled raucously at the sight. Then something else caught her eye and she started to zip off. Alan made a mad dash for her and was able to catch up. She grabbed her out of the air.

                “Hey, what’s the big idea?” She shouted.

                “Sorry, princess.” Alan said. “But I am your bodyguard while you’re here, and it’s very hard to guard your body if you keep rushing off to look at every little thing.”

                “Aww, boo. You’re no fun.” She said with a huff.

                “Yes, yes, I’m the big boring human.”

                “So long as you know that. Hey, have you ever thought about being a knight? I can knight you! That’s totally something I can do. I dub thee Sir…uh…Sir...”

                After a few moments, Alan looked at her with an eyebrow raised. “You can’t think of anything good, can you?”

                “Gimme a minute! I’ll totally think of a good one. It’ll go so good that…that those music singing humans—”

                “Bards? Minstrels?”

                “Yeah, them. They’ll definitely sing about the totally great and not at all an insult knight name I can give you.”

                “Well as much of an honor as that would be, I’m afraid I must respectfully decline your highness. I doubt that the king and queen will appreciate a human knight in fae lands.”

                Aside from the potential political problems, Alan just did not want to be tied to this particular princess for the rest of his life. That was a surefire way for him to go grey and bald before he was 30.

                “Aw you’re no fun.”

                “I do believe we’ve already established that, yes.”

                “If I promise not to rush off, will you let me go?”

                “If I thought you were capable of keeping such a promise I would.”

                “I…I…” She paused and thought for a moment. “Okay, yeah, I gotta give you that one. There’s just so many fun things around here!”

                “Tell you what, if you behave and stick close to me for an hour, I’ll show you a dog. Behave for two hours and I’ll show you a cat.”

                The princess’s eyes went wide. “I have no idea what either of those are, but I know I absolutely want to meet both of them!”

                “Good. You know what that means though, right?”

                “I’m going to stick to your side like I have a…what are those metal rope things called?”

                “Chains?”

                “Right. I’ll stick to you like I have a chain tied between us.”

                Alan hummed and hawed for a moment. He was not sure if this was a good idea, but he would give it a try. He let the princess go, and much to his surprise she did not immediately dart off.

                “Good. Now if you want to see something, let me know, okay?”

                “I can do that! I can absolutely do that!”

                Alan was not so sure. But he would just have to hope she was up to the task. And that she did not actually know how long an hour was.