3-Word Challenge

3-Word Challenge: Sometimes the Specials Aren’t Always Listed on the Menu

Dear Guests, Patrons and People Who Just Show Up for the Free Booze,

  Thank you for joining us here at Bonnywood for our Annual Cultural Arts Festival and Bacchanalia. To kick off this evening’s events, we’ll be reviewing the first submission in our esteemed 3-Word Challenge, an audience-participation endeavor that we conduct on a random and unfocused basis. Be sure to check back regularly, as there will be a number of additional presentations over the course of the Festival.

Artiste: Laurel at “My Journey into Darkness”

Three Words: love, revenge, testicles

Medium: Short Story

And here we go…


The Three Word Challenge Story

This is the answer to a three word challenge from Brian Lageose, who continues to be under the impression that I can write.  LOL.  In the story, you have to use three words he gives you.  I agreed as long as one of the words wasn’t that ridiculous “L” word.

True to his delicious sense of humor, he included that word in my challenge.  The three words are highlighted in red.

(Thanks Brian.  I’m coming for you.)


Every Saturday afternoon, a group of refined, high-fashion elite women and I met at the Charlestown Country Club, just outside Atlanta, Georgia, where Southern accents were understood and considered to be charming and sexy.

We sat on the veranda, sipped Mint Juleps, fanned ourselves against the steamy heat and often gossiped about tawdry, promiscuous women and the nasty, ill-bred men who tasted their wares.

We were high-born, highly educated ladies who only allowed high-born, highly educated men into our inner circle but by no means were we prudish.  Our ladies and gentlemen honored a code of silence.

The gentlemen didn’t “kiss and tell” and by no means, did they leave money on the dresser after a night of lust.  The women bathed away the evidence and emerged as though they had never been touched, other than a slight triumphant smile, recognized only by us.

It was on a hot, sultry day at the Country Club when I first set eyes on Edward Carrington, III.  I gasped as I said “Oh, my!  Who is that delicious long drink of water?”

Estelle said “that’s Edward Carrington, III.  Every woman in town is trying to land him.  He has everything…looks, money, education, position, charm, charisma, pure raw animal sex appeal…but…”

“But what?” I asked.  “But…he’s a real player,” she said.  “I mean, look around.  Every woman’s head turned when he walked into the room, and don’t think I didn’t notice the flush in your face when you saw him.  Look at him.  He just finished a round of golf and he isn’t even sweating.”

I smiled and said “I’ll bet I can make him sweat.”  Estelle looked at me and said “I’m sure you can.  I’m sure you can make him sweat several times but after a week or two, he’ll move on.”

“I’ll take that challenge,” I said, as I started to make my way over to this mysteriously magnetic, man who now had a target dead center in his chest.

Estelle took my arm and said “you’re going to lose.”

I smiled as I said “we’ll see.”

The next morning, I had the recognizable, triumphant smile on my face.  Estelle whispered “well?”  I looked at her and said “it was glorious and I think you’re wrong.  I think that all he needed was for the right woman to come along.”

Estelle asked “and you believe that you are the right woman?”

“Yes I do,” I said.  “If you had been there, you would agree.  We explored each other with uncontested enthusiasm.  It was much like finding buried treasure.”  I blushed when I said “and he found treasures that I never knew existed.  It was as if we had both been starving to death and were feasting on each other.”

For two weeks, Edward and I shared tempestuous passions that most could only dream about.  I was feeling and doing things that were much like I imagined those “tawdry, promiscuous” women I had loved so much to gossip about were doing and had done.  But I didn’t care.  Edward was a wonderful lover and he brought out the long-lost lover in me, who had been suppressed by my pristine upbringing.

Two days into our third week, I slithered out of his bed and slipped into my sheer bathrobe.  The sun had just risen and as I came out of the bathroom, I crawled toward Edward on all fours like a panther stalking its prey.  He was watching me and suddenly sat up.

There was no “good morning.”  The only thing he said was “I’ve been thinking.”

In an almost purring voice, I said “thinking about what?”

He looked at me and said “I’ve been thinking about us.  You see, some of the men are starting to say words like LOVE, marriage, family, forever…things like that.”  He took my hand and said “you understand that those things are not part of our relationship, right?”

I hoped he didn’t hear my almost deafening swallow as I said “of course I do.”

He said “so, you understand what I’m saying?”

“Yes,” I said.  “You’re saying our time is over.”  He smiled and said “yes.  I think you knew from the beginning that this was just going to be a casual thing.”

I smiled as I got up but turned before I got to the bathroom.  I opened my robe and watched as his eyes ran the length of my exposed body.  He said “I’ll admit.  I’m sure going to miss that exquisite body of yours.”

I went into the bathroom and closed the door.  After I dressed, I looked at myself in the mirror and smiled.  There was only one word that came to mind.  That word was REVENGE.

I walked out and in a demure, passive manner said “do you know what a supernova is?  It’s when a star gets so bright, it catastrophically explodes.  It signals the end of the star.  Since our relationship is ending, I was thinking that we should be like two stars who supernova and go out in a blaze of glory.”

Edward’s interest was piqued.  “What do you have in mind?” he asked.

“I think we should ‘have each other for dinner’, if you know what I mean.  We could call it our last supper.”  Edward smiled and said “that sounds intriguing.”

“Good,” I said.  “I’ll be here at 7.

I arrived at exactly 7 and Edward greeted me with a smile.  “I have to tell you.  I have been looking forward to this all day,” he said.

I told him to go to the bedroom and undress.  “I’m liking this already,” he said.

When he undressed, I told him to lay on the bed.  I stripped down to a lacy negligee and went to the bathroom.  “What are you doing in there?” he asked anxiously.

“You’ll see,” I said.  “Just relax and get ready.”

I came back into the room and told him to raise his legs and close his eyes.  I ran my hands over his legs and then placed a small bowl of warm water under his TESTICLES.

As I began to manipulate them into my mouth, he writhed and moaned with sheer pleasure.  “Oh God!” he said.

I whispered, “you’re going to need Him,” and then listened as his moans turned into blood-curdling screams when I clamped down and castrated him with one bite.


The End.


This piece has been nominated in the following categories:

Most Expedient Submission. (The selection committee barely had time to assign Laurel’s words before her completed work arrived two seconds later.)

The Carl Sagan Award for the use of Scientific Terminology in a Work That Is Not about Science. (Supernova!)

Potential Adapted Screenplay That Would Allow Angela Bassett to Sink Her Teeth into a Meaty Part.

Wentworth Miller Award for Best Staging of a Prison Break.

Gratitude Award from the founder of Bonnywood Manor.


You can review more of Laurel’s portfolio by clicking here.

If you are interested in joining the 3-Word Challenge, you can find the details here.


23 replies »

    • Laurel fascinates me. She keeps modestly claiming to not be a writer, but I really enjoy her stories, especially the multi-parters where I can’t wait to see what happens next…


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