This this is the result of a “word bank challenge” my wife and I sometimes do. Within a time limit, we write a story using randomly chosen words.
Word Bank:
exclusive stubborn survivor stab reader mislead grow hate possible break
BOK BOK BOK BOK BOK BOK BOK BOK BOK
Mr. Squirrel pokes his head out of the hole in his tree, the constant “bok”ing against the walls of his house was rattling his brain. “What the hell are you doing, man? Can’t you see this is someone’s home?” Mr. Squirrel squeaked over the rhythmic clunking against his walls.
Mr. Woodpecker stops his boking sharply and turns toward the angry rodent, taken aback. “Squirrels can talk?” The bird looks at the tree rat sideways curiously.
“Uh, you talk too. Would you leave my house alone? Do you have to stab it? And so violently?” Mr. Squirrel asks politely.
Mr. W looks Mr. S up and down, examining this apparently strange creature. “Your house? I don’t suppose you have furniture and pets, too? Ha, ha.” Mr. W stretches his neck a bit before returning back to his previous activity. BOK BOK BOK BOK BOK BOK BOK BOK BOK…
Mr. S is dumbfounded. How is it possible to be so rude? He raises his voice at the feathered nuisance once again, “Hey! Stop! You’re going to break my house! I’m going to have you pay for that if you don’t quit it now!”
Mr. W stops and does that laugh that’s just an exhale from your nose. The bird turns to the squirrel and squawks, “Pay? For what? It’s a tree; it’ll grow back. What’s a squirrel doing with a mortgage? This whole thing is preposterous. I must hit the tree, it’s how I find food. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”
“There are no termites or ants or whatever you eat to find here. As you’ve clearly heard me say, I live here. The tree is mostly hollow and I have exterminators keep the place vermin free. You’re better off with a completely different tree. Why be so stubborn?” Mr. S pleads.
The beaked power tool thinks silently upon the words of the squirrel. Surely, he’s right. There’s no reason to look for bugs in this tree. After some reflection, Mr. W speaks up. “You’re right. I’d hate to cause you further trouble. To be perfectly honest, I was kinda spooked to be yelled at by a squirrel. I didn’t really wanna process that so I just kept pecking. I’ll be on my way then, and sorry about your wall.” The bird nods and then releases the tree.
Mr. S watches the woodpecker flap away and lets out a sigh while a spider slowly crawls down a thread. He says relieved, “I’m glad that’s over.”
“Me too, that guy was annoying!”
Mr. S jumps at the sound of the spider. “Holy shit, spiders can talk?”