Tuesday, August 26, 2014

She Shot the Triceratops, But She Did Not Shoot the Owner

Note: while not quite the heroine, this wallpaper was as close as I could find.

End of August howls and yowls, shapeshifter lovers.

Today's flash scene was inspired by a CRAZY *someone lost their mind* news story I read a few days ago.

HEADLINE-SNIPPET: "School Kid Suspended And ARRESTED For Imagining Shooting A Dinosaur ~ Steve Watson | Furious parents not informed until police had taken son into custody."

This is dedicated to Alex Stone, the sixteen year old student from South Carolina, who dared to actually IMAGINE what any fictional writer might imagine and write for publication.


She Shot the Triceratops, But She Did Not Shoot the Owner

"Noooooooooo!!!" Sharra screeched. To her ears it sounded like the enraged banshee she'd heard while walking the night in Ireland. Said banshee was now a close friend.

But beyond that wonderful thing in her life, the tiny triceratops who regularly devoured her in-full-bloom roses had managed to sneak past the magick defense grid she'd just conjured last night. Sharra shrieked again, her furious wail bouncing off the nearby mountain peaks.

Somebody's pet -- Sharra quaked with anger -- the blue-green mottled dinosaur cast a glance in her direction that looked suspiciously like a satisfied smirk. Sharra scowled a warning. When the pitbull-sized beastie didn't move, she balled her fists, and planted them on her hips.

They glared at one another, once again. In the past, the primordial creature had raced away, disappearing before any punishment could be justly delivered -- before Sharra could chase after it, thus discovering its very irresponsible owner.

She'd considered scrying, but why waste her magick on the trivial matter when compared to the state of the world? Why spark the naughty pet's hide with the fire she could swiftly manifest, when she needed to guard her reserves of energy to deal with the population of demons constantly threatening Talbot's Peak.

Wanting to remain unmolested by the kooks and society at large, Sharra had moved to the territory Dante, and his pack of shifters and supernaturals, patrolled and protected. She'd homesteaded several years ago, regularly reporting any suspicious activity to his patrol teams.

But as the spawn of the reptile gods eyed her last red rose, Sharra smoldered. Heat exploded through her, and she imagined smoke pouring out of her ears. If she wasn't careful, it would become reality.

With a great big rose-eating grin, the petite triceratops snapped its neck to the side, and engulfed the beautiful red bloom within its beaked mouth. Crunch-munch, it was gone!

Sharra threw her head back and screamed from the depths of her loins, from her outraged soul. "That's it, you dino scoundrel," she yelled, shaking her fist. "Now you're going to get it."

Whirling, as the triumphant beastie ran off, Sharra raced inside her stone cottage. She  grabbed her 357 Magnum while mind-summoning Trydon, her black-as-sin unicorn. He met her at the door, and Sharra grabbed a hunk of his flowing mane, jumping astride.

One thing about a dinosaur, small or large, they left a trail of crushed plant life in their wake. "Follow," Sharra hollered, on fire with her determination to mete out justice, and shoot the dino critter in its formidably muscled butt.

Always up for a chase, or a wild gallop across the wide open land, Trydon eagerly leaped forward and lowered his horn to skewer their rascally foe. Working together, mind-to-mind, the two of them rapidly negotiated the path of trampled prairie grasses and bent wildflowers.

Goddess damn his unscaly but glittery hide, there the smart aleck, rose-devouring dino was, heading for the foothills. Trydon blasted a snort of victory, and charged.

Sharra brandished her gun. "We're going to get you!" she hollered, her warrioress blood on the boil. From a long ancestry of witch warriors, she'd reached the point of no return, her normally cupcake-sweet nature lost to fierce resolve.

The small triceratops bounded in an odd racing the gait, moving swiftly toward an outcropping of rock that resembled an enormous medieval castle. Sharra figured he must have realized a fury-driven witch, and a unicorn that wasn't afraid of him, gave chase. And weren't about to quit.


'Help!' Quoff mindspoke. 'They're chasing me.'

Seated at his enormous desk, Zerod immediately touched a button on his control panel. 'Lowering the drawbridge,' he mind-communicated to his pet triceratops. His family had bred the modified dinosaurs for centuries now.

Rising, he quickly strode to his lookout balcony. It was shielded somewhat by the giant rock of the outcropping he lived within. Still, Zerod had a grand view of the foothills, and the prairieland beyond. What he observed had his loins twisting into knots of sheer lust.

The woman in hot pursuit of his Quoff rode her black unicorn like a Celtic war goddess. Whipped by the wind, her fiery copper hair streamed out behind her. The bountiful mane of riotous curls begged for his taming hand.

His only regret, as he continued to watch, she wasn't riding naked. To his utter astonishment and ferocious delight, the amazing woman stayed the course, galloping pell-mell right over the drawbridge and into his courtyard. Was that a 357 Magnum in her hand?

Spinning around as his life depended on it, Zerod dashed down his spiral stairway -- jumping to the floor at about midpoint. He landed with a loud thud of his boots, instantly running for his lowered drawbridge. Zounds, he was intrigued beyond measure.


Sharra took aim as Trydon skidded to a halt on the stone pathway leading away from a real drawbridge over a real moat, filled with shimmering water. As fascinating as her situation had suddenly become, she was not going to miss her opportunity.

Bang! Sharra fired at the triceratops, who suddenly stopped for a reason she couldn't determine. Only a bit off her mark -- the dino's butt -- the bullet struck closer to his flank.

Sharra frowned as she witnessed the bullet embed itself, then slowly re-emerge. What the Goddess eyes? It was as if the speeding bullet had sunk into a spongy substance it couldn't penetrate.

Sharra watched the bullet clank dully on the stone walkway. Irate to the core, she threw her leg over Trydon's neck, and leapt off his back. Stomping toward it, she ignored the triceratops who now sat calmly, his manner perfectly behaved.

"Woman, did you just shoot my pet?"



Wishing you love and passion on the wild side ...


Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance


Pat C. said...

I'm in love with this already. More! More!

There was a thing going around Twitter (I think) a while back. Somebody posted an old publicity photo of Stephen Spielberg with a Triceratops prop from Jurassic Park and claiming he'd killed the poor beast. Far too many people thought this was true. I'm sure there are also people out there who believe Star Trek was filmed on location.

Rebecca Gillan said...

Lol, time to fight the War of the Roses again! Excellent flash.

Savanna Kougar said...

Yeah, I have to wonder if any of them showed up at the Trekkie conventions?

I hadn't heard that one about Spielberg and the triceratops. Interesting.

Savanna Kougar said...

War of the roses... that's good! lol...

Serena Shay said...

LOL...I wonder how Zerod is going to make Sharra atone for her shooting of his pet? Here's to hoping it very naughty-like. hehe ;)

Savanna Kougar said...

Oh, Sharra isn't done with Zerod, or his naughty pet... she may make HIM atone... ~naughty smiles~