Word: Squib

 

squib

\ skwib \  , adjective;

1. a short and witty or sarcastic saying or writing.

2. Journalism . a short news story, often used as a filler.

verb:

1. to write squibs.

2. to shoot a squib.

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Lauren’s eye twitched as she read the email.  The messages containing her assignments were usually rife with information on what she would need.  What she was doing, where and when to show up, large numbers of potential interviews and so on.  Even info such as what to focus on, sample questions and who was really important. This one contained relatively little information.  Just the event, date, time and a single name.  But that wasn’t what was annoying her.  It was what the event was.

               She read the email over again to make sure she was reading it right.  When she determined she was, she printed out a copy and headed to her boss’s office.  She tried not to seem to angry as she went, but from the looks her coworkers were giving her, she was doing a poor job of it. 

She didn’t bother knocking on her boss’s door.  It was early, he wouldn’t be too busy.  She considered leaving the door open for a moment to let the office know what travesty had transpired, but thought better of it and shut the door behind her.

“What the hell is this?”  She asked when the portly man looked up from his computer.

“Well, it looks like a sheet of paper.  But since I’m assuming you’re talking about what’s on the paper, you’ll have to show it to me first.”  He said.  She slammed it down on the desk, not wanting to be subtle about it.

“I am one of this paper’s best journalists, and you give me a fluff piece?”  She said even before he had picked the paper up.

 “Oh, right.  That.”  He said, putting the paper down.  He didn’t need to hear any more than that.

“Oh, that?  Is that really all you can say?  How dare you give me this trivial little thing.  I mean, this isn’t a story for me.  This is a freelancer job.”

“Lauren, calm down a bit.  I have a reason for giving you this one.”

“This had better be good.”  She said, crossing her arms.

“Look, I know you’re one of our best.  And you’ve been with us for what, ten years?”

“Twelve.”

“Right, twelve.  That’s kind of why I gave you this particular assignment.”

“Okay, you lost me.  I’ve covered some of the biggest stories in years, I’ve won awards for this paper, and written some of the best articles in the history of this publication, and that’s why you’re sending me on a rookie job?”

“Yes.”

“And that makes sense to you?”

“Hear me out before you burst a blood vessel.  Take a look at what the assignment is.”  He handed the printed email back to Lauren.  She took it roughly from him and read it.

“It’s some local fair or something.”

“It’s a carnival is what it is.  You haven’t had a real break for going on eight years now.  Not even so much as a real vacation.  You’re on call all day every day, no matter what it is.  So, I give you this.  Think of it as a little mini vacation.  Go, take your kids and have fun with it.  Talk to the coordinator and some families, take a few pictures and then enjoy yourself with your own family.  You get in for free, work for twenty minutes tops, and then relax for a few hours.  Knowing you, it’s probably the closest thing to a day off you’ll ever have.”

“Oh yeah, because I really want to have fun while I’m on the job.”  She said, doing her best not to roll her eyes.

“I’m sure.  Look, just go there and have some fun with your kids.  What’s wrong, you don’t like your family or something?”

“W-what?”  Lauren asked.  The question had come completely out of left field, and she had no idea how he had even arrived at such a thought.  “N-no, of course not.  I love my family.”

“Than what’s the problem?  I promise, your kids will love it, and it’s not like you have to spend a lot of time on this one.”

“That may be, but I still have my journalistic integrity to worry about.”

               “If that’s what you’re worried about, then just put a different name in the by line.  Just make up some name and use that.”

               Lauren thought about it.  Spending some extra time with her kids did sound appealing, even if it was under the guise of work.  Besides, it wasn’t like she had much choice.  It was obvious that he wasn’t going to change his mind, so she had to go.

               “Ok, fine.  But you owe me.”

               “Uh huh.  I’ll make sure you get the next big disaster story.”

               “Fine.  And the next political rally?”

               “Don’t push your luck.”  Lauren stood there without saying anything.  “Ok, fine the next rally too.  Happy?”

               “Yes, I think I am.  Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some real stories write up for the next issue.”  Lauren said before leaving the office.  Although she wasn’t completely satisfied with the result of her meeting, she could handle it.  And she did know he was right about one thing.  This probably was the closest thing to a day off she was likely to take.  As she walked back to her desk, she thought about how it might not be so bad, but still hoped she wouldn’t be getting any more assignments like that one again.

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I worked for a local paper for awhile.  But since it was only a part time freelance type thing, I only got assignments like this one.  Then they just kind of stopped calling me.  I don't really mind though.  But even if I was full time I don't think I'd necessarily mind going to places like a carnival for a story like that.  I suppose a real journalist would though.  No idea what any of this has to do with the story (other than the type of assignment) but whatever.

Word: Idem

 

idem

\ AHY-dem, ID-em \  , pronoun;

1. the same as previously given or mentioned.

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Grena waited impatiently in the opulent waiting room.  Her eyes looked around at the many magical items dotting the room.  Most of them were purely decorative.  Others were on display to show the abilities of the Master Enchanter.  She didn’t necessarily mind the obvious showboating.  It just meant she was in the right place.  She just hoped it would be worth the month it took to get an appointment with him.

               A gilded door on the far end of the room opened and a tall, spindly woman stepped out.  She gave Grena a small bow in greeting.

               “The Master will see you now.”  She said.  Grena stood and returned the sign of respect to the woman before entering the room behind the door.

               The Master Enchanter was a worn man in his evening years. The many lines that crossed his face and grey hair were a testament to his age that he seemed to wear like a badge of honor.  He looked at Grena with bored eyes that matched his hair. 

               “Yes, what is it?”  He asked.

               “Master, I have brought what I believe to be…”

               “Stop.”  The Master said, cutting Grena off.  She did her best to hide her annoyance at the interruption.

               “Let me guess.  You’ve found the most important magical find in a century, right?  I’ve heard it all before, and it’s always exactly the same.  Show it to one of the apprentices if you must.”

               “But, sir, I really have found the most important magical find.  And I don’t think it’s just this century either.  I believe it’s the most important find in recorded history.”  She said as firmly as she dared.  The Master looked at her for a minute.  She was tempted to just set the bottle on his desk and be done with it, but she needed his permission just to approach his desk.

               “I’m sure you feel that way.  But from your robes you are a practitioner of the Arcane, are you not?  I don’t think you qualify to be the judge of what is and is not important.”

               “With all due respect, Master, I have studied some enchantment during my schooling.  Not enough to make anything of significance, but enough to read an enchantment.  I have done so with this, and it is worthy of your attention.  I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t sure of that.”

               The Master sighed and regarded her with eyes that spoke of his frustration.  She knew he had probably dealt with people exactly like her before.  They had all probably said something exactly like she did, and had most likely been proven wrong. 

               “Fine, fine.  Let me see it.”  He said. 

               Grena set the small golden bottle on his desk.  The Master took it and closed his eyes.  It was with no small satisfaction that she watched his expression go from bored and uninterested to surprise to downright fear.

               “I see.”  He said once he had finished.  He immediately began writing something on a piece of parchment.  “Take this…abomination to the Deconstructors with this note.  They’ll make sure to dispose of this properly.”

               “Sir, I’m sorry, but I’m not sure that’s the best thing to do.”

               “Oh?  I hope you’re not thinking of using it.”

               “Not as it is.  But perhaps it could be changed?”

               The Master leaned back in his seat with his hands locked in front of him.  This was not something he had ever heard before, and so had caught his attention.

               “What do you mean?”

               “Well, sir, as it is this is the most dangerous object in the world.  But perhaps there is a way to turn this divine prison into a vessel?  Instead of imprisoning a deity against its will, make it so that the deity is willing to lend its power to a mortal.  Make it an exchange type situation.  The god or goddess enters into a contract with a mortal, using the bottle as a channel.  They store a portion of their power in it for mortal use in exchange for the holder performing a task that the deity is unable to do on the mortal plane.  That will not only make it an extreme benefit to both man and god, but will also eliminate the cost of mental energy it currently requires.”  Grena said enthusiastically.  She had been working on the idea for quite some time, and it felt good to finally be able to say it.

               “Hm, it’s not a bad idea.  Certainly what you say has a great deal of merit.  But it may not be possible.”

               “What do you mean, sir?”

               “This is a highly advanced enchantment.  It is very complex and very dangerous.  As I said, it may not be possible to alter something like this.  And even if it is, it is beyond even my power.”

               “So, it’s impossible?”  She asked, crestfallen.

               “Not impossible.  Remember, I said power, not skill.  If I had help, it may be possible.”

               “S-so then.”  The Master took out another sheet of parchment and began writing again.  This note was much longer and more complex than the first one.

               “Go to the High Magister and show him both the bottle and this note.  I’ll ensure you get in to see him right away.  With his help, and maybe a few more, it should be possible to alter this thing as you have presented.”

               “Y-yes, sir, I’ll go immediately.”  She grabbed both the note and the bottle.  She had to restrain herself from running out the door, and only just managed to show the proper respect to the Master Enchanter.

               Once clear of his office though, she couldn’t help but run.  Not only was she seeing the High Magister, which in and of itself was an honor, but he might even put an idea she came up with into practice.  This was going to be a good day.

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Hmm, not sure if this story really fits the word, but I did my best.  It's just that I've been holding on to this one for almost as long as I have been the other story about my fantasy group.  It's just taken so long to find the right word, and this is close enough.  There probably would be better at some point, but oh well.  Now I just have to figure out what comes next.

Word: infinitesimal

 

infinitesimal

\ in-fin-i-TES-uh-muhl \  , adjective;

1. indefinitely or exceedingly small; minute: infinitesimal vessels in the circulatory system .

2. immeasurably small; less than an assignable quantity: to an infinitesimal degree .

3. of, pertaining to, or involving infinitesimals.

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Todd craned his neck to look at the huge man who loomed over him.  Todd wasn’t exactly a tall guy, but this was ridiculous.  It was like he was an infinitesimal speck next to this giant.  He felt his blood run cold as the huge man stood there looking down at him.  The large man’s fist rose into the air, ready to strike at a moment’s notice.  Todd could swear he saw his life flash before his eyes as he looked at the fist that he swore was the size of his head.  He needed to do something.  He needed a way to deal with the huge man without injury.  In this case, he was David about to be attacked by Goliath.  He just needed the sling to take down the giant. 

               His eyes flitted around the scene.  There was a small group of people behind the large man, none of them looking very pleased with what was going on.  Could that be it?  Could that be the solution?  It was a long shot.  Really, his chances were as small as he felt next to the giant.  But, it was something.

               “W-wait a sec!”  Todd called out.  He held his breath as he waited for his assailant to respond.  A sigh of relief escaped his lips when the large man’s fist lowered.

               “What is it now?”  The man’s deep, low voice said.

               “Are you sure you really want to go through with this?  I mean, I don’t think it’ll end too well for you.”

               “How so?  Seems pretty clear cut to me.”

               “Oh no no no, not like that.  I mean, it’s pretty clear who’d win a fight.  But it’s that same clear cut win that’ll be bad for you.”

               “Huh?”

               “Well, you seem like you pride yourself on your strength, right?  And I bet you’re pretty good at fighting.”

               “Both true.”

               “Well then, I bet you really like beating guys that can put up a fight, yeah?”

               “Sure.”

               “Well, what will people think if you fight me?  I’m not strong, I can’t fight, and I’m tiny.  So yeah, you could break me in a second if this happened.  But what would people think about you if you did that?  You won’t be seen as a great fighter anymore.  You’ll just be a bully, no matter how many tough guys you beat up.  It’ll ruin whatever reputation you have now.”

               The big man looked behind him at the people with him.  One of them gave him a small, quick nod.  It was all Todd needed.  He had his safety now.  At the very least he was assured to not be walking out of the situation with the use of all his limbs. 

               “Ok, so I don’t pound you.  But I still gotta do something to you.  Matter of pride, you know?”

               “Oh yeah, sure.  What we need is a contest where we stand on even footing.  One where I have a chance to beat you, but you’re still reasonably sure you can win.”

               “Yeah, that sounds good.  You got something in mind?”

               “As a matter of fact, I do.  It’s something I’m kind of good at, so it should pose a decent challenge for you, but still keeps your rep intact.  And it’s low key enough that if, by some small chance, you lose, your palls there will just be able to laugh it off.  Sound good?”

               “Uh, yeah, sure.  What is it?”

               “Thumb wrestling.”  Todd said.  The big man looked at his friend’s.  They looked back at him with a mix of curiosity and humor. 

               “Ok, sure.  Why not?  Let’s do this.”

               “Alright then.  We just need a place to sit.”

               “There’s a café across the street.”  Said one of the giant’s friends.  All were in favor of that. 

               The competitors sat across from each other and clasped hands.  The big man’s completely enveloped Todd’s hand, with just his thumb sticking up.  It was all Todd needed for this particular contest.  Even so, it was a more than a little ridiculous looking.  The man’s thumb was more than three times bigger than Todd’s, and much thicker.  Most of those watching would think that Todd’s loss was a foregone conclusion.  Todd knew otherwise though.

               “Ok, let’s do a quick three count pin for this one.  Now, let’s start this.  Someone want to give us a count?”  Todd asked.

               One of the big man’s friends counted down, and the game started.  Immediately, Todd’s quick, nimble fingers lashed out with the speed of a snake striking.  He hit the side, front and top of his opponent’s thumb with lighting quick strikes.  The guy probably didn’t even feel them, but that was hardly the point.  The big man wiggled his thumb back and forth in an effort to both avoid Todd’s strikes and to find an opening to pin the smaller man. 

Suddenly, Todd seemed to slip up, moving his thumb low to their hands targeting the base joint.  The big man took the opportunity and dropped his thumb like a stone.  Todd’s thumb darted out of the way.  He struck the big man’s nail and knuckle with rapid hits.  The big man quickly recovered, and the game began anew.

Todd kept up his strikes, wearing his opponent down little by little.  Todd’s eyes darted from their joined hands to the big man’s rough face.  He was getting to the big man.  It would be time to end the game soon.  The big man attempted to pin Todd again.  This time though, when Todd avoided, he placed his thumb directly on the man’s worn out knuckle.  The big man tried to pull his thumb up.  Normally, it would have been easy for him to overpower Todd’s skinny digit.  But now that Todd had been plugging away at it for awhile, it was sensitive.  When the big man tried to pull his finger away, all he got was an uncomfortable twinge.  The more he tried moving his thumb, the worse it would get. 

“One.”  Todd said.  The big man kept his thumb still, hoping to see an escape route. 

“Two.”  The big man twisted his thumb in an attempt to wiggle out.  Todd anticipate the move though, and moved his thumb in tandem. 

“Three.”  Todd said. 

               The onlookers looked on in amazement at what had just happened.  The big man himself was just as stunned.  With his far larger hand, he had been certain he should have won.  His loss made little sense to him. 

               “I told you, I’m pretty good at this.”  Todd said as he stood up.  He may have won the small challenge, but there was nothing to keep the giant from trying to get violent again.  “Well, this was fun.  Have a nice day.” 

               He walked off, only looking back once he felt he had put a safe distance.  He saw the giant’s friends huddling around him.  He didn’t know what they were talking about, but he didn’t really care.  He was just glad that his tiny little chance had played out in his favor.

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So, what do you think, did I make a thumb wrestling match sound at least a little exciting?  Bet nobody's ever tried that before.  Who knows what I'll try and spice up next?