Didn’t you know, there’s a secret marketing department office called SuDoo? Their job is to make things super-silly-to-us, or supercilious when said fast enough. They once had a sign that hung on their door that said “Supercilious Department.” Others called it “the SD door” for short. The sign was so heavy that it kept falling off. At first, people walking by would pick it up, knock on the door, and give the sign to whomever answered. Eventually, people got tired of this, especially since the people inside never said thank you. Finally, the sign fell down and nobody picked it up or knocked on the door to tell the SD their sign was down. The work day ended and as the first SD member stepped through the door, he stepped on the sign. It shattered under his weight and shot out in different directions, one piece wedging under the door to the Supercilious Department, preventing them from closing it. Because he had shattered the sign and the door couldn’t be fixed for several weeks, the sign breaker was stationed at the door to keep people out. He became known as the Supercilious Department Door Keeper, which was too long for people in the office to say, so it became shorted to the Supercilious Door Keeper, and eventually SDK. But the head of the Supercilious Department didn’t like that and insisted that the first time people greeted the door keeper, they had to refer to him as the Supercilious Department Door Keeper. Subsequent references during the day could be shorted to Supercilious Door Keeper. One day, a new employee from another department had a package that needed to go immediately to the Supercilious Department Head, but when he got to the door, he found the Supercilious Department Door Keeper would not let him in. The Door Keeper told him he could send a note inside the department, and the person for whom the package was addressed, could come forward and get it. The new employee pulled and pen and a scrap piece of paper out of his pocket and began his note. Unfortunately, the pen ran out of ink, and so the employee couldn’t finish his note, and since this employee was late for another meeting, he left the package outside the door. The Door Keeper forgot about the package, and eventually it was time to leave work. As the head of the department left, he saw the package, picked it up, recognized its importance, and looked around. When he spotted the Door Keeper making his way to the elevator, he yelled out, “Hey, you, Supercilious Door K—.” It was then that the package exploded. The Department head lost his, and as it turned out, the package was not what he thought it was, but in loving tribute to the Department head who lost his, the rest of the department and eventually those throughout the building referred to the Supercilious Door Keeper as the Supercilious Dork. Over time, the Supercilious Dork rose to be head of the department and because he was so stigmatized and traumatized by what happened that day, he has forever more made it his mission to shorten the names of things. And he never picks up strange packages, especially ones addressed to Supercilious Dork.
Tag Archives: writing
The Painted Beast
There once was an ex-cop who did poorly
At being a father and what’s more he
Killed his ex-wife
But then offered up his life
To save his daughter from a life in pornography.
[Editor’s note: this is a distillation of my novel The Painted Beast into a short limerick form. It does not capture all the twists and turns of the novel, but if I had to describe at least one main feature of it in 50 words or less, this would probably do.]
And out will waltz a little girl to Strauss
But at night in that big ol’ house,
When everybody’s in bed, even a mouse,
The portmanteau will open,
As if magic words were spoken,
And out will waltz a little girl to Strauss.
#The End#
Filed under characters, hero, humor, limerick, poem, poetry, portmanteau, Random Access Thoughts, story poem, words, writing
To guess at what happened or posit
Now the portmanteau sits in a closet
Like a gift awaiting a deposit.
The once-Lady from Kent
Won’t even relent
To guess at what happened or posit.
Filed under hero, humor, limerick, poem, poetry, portmanteau, Random Access Thoughts, story poem, words, writing
A portmanteau whose latch was bent
So, there was a once-Lady from Kent
Who stole the suitcase and went
Under the cover of night
On a single-engine flight
With a portmanteau whose latch was bent.
Filed under hero, humor, poem, poetry, portmanteau, Random Access Thoughts, story poem, words, writing
The suitcase he called a valise
The old man looked like Sleaze,
Wearing a brown coat against the breeze.
He shook his head slow
And wouldn’t let go
Of the suitcase he called “a valise.”
Filed under hero, humor, limerick, poem, poetry, portmanteau, Random Access Thoughts, story poem, words, writing
For something he didn’t know
She searched the island high and low,
Finding it with an old man moving slow.
She said it was an heirloom,
That a thief tried to make room
In his life for something he didn’t know.
Filed under hero, humor, limerick, poem, poetry, portmanteau, Random Access Thoughts, story, story poem, word play, words, writing
What happened after the suitcase event
There once was a Lady from Kent
Down to Haiti she went.
About her portmanteau
She did not know
What happened after the suitcase event.
Filed under hero, humor, limerick, poem, poetry, portmanteau, Random Access Thoughts, story, story poem, words, writing
A story about sacrifice and song
The sergeant was about to move on,
But saw something that didn’t belong.
It was a portmanteau,
Wouldn’t you know,
And a story about sacrifice and song.
Filed under humor, poem, poetry, portmanteau, story poem, words, writing
And how he was there, then absent
One day the police sergeant
Whiling away on the Internet,
Saw photos of Haiti
About a man called Crazy
And how he was there, then absent.
Filed under humor, limerick, poem, poetry, portmanteau, Random Access Thoughts, story poem, words, writing
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