|Wordsworth

Lauren Buckeridge

This week readers were asked to write the title of and an atrocious opening sentence for a swashbuckling adventure novel.

Chris Greenwood, Motueka: “The Curious Adventures of a Drongo in the Congo” Sir Kitt Braeker, adventurer and mad scientist, was dismayed when he found himself obliged by local protocol to accept the dish of char-grilled centipedes, and was further discouraged when the witch doctor asked, “And would the pale sir like chips with that?”

Daphne Tobin, Porirua: “Well – Buckle My Swash!” I think I’m finally managing to live up to my old man’s reputation, but it wasn’t easy getting to him before I went bush to tell him his pesky brother wouldn’t be bothering him any more – still, I reckon the prison’s use of the term “Secure Unit” really was a bit naive.

David Wort, Bay of Plenty: “The Way to Dusty Death” There is no one to hear you scream, you orphan brat,” crowed

Uncle Draco, a man of reprehensible moral character, as he tied his beautiful, innocent, yet spirited heiress niece to the railroad tracks, mercifully ignorant of the fact that the 8.22 from Bath did not continue to Beaglehole on Sundays and public holidays.

But the winner is Whangaparāoa’s Kaye Bennetts: “The Buccaneer and the Bawdy-House Madam” When dockside brothel-owner Madam Rosa responded to the loud banging on her front door, she was assailed by the rank stink of a man who had not been in close proximity to soap for several months – a man whose teeth were black and rotten, and whose clothes not only reeked with the detritus of food and fish, but were stiff with salt, and asked, “What have you brought back from your travels, Husband?”

For the next contest, write an epitaph for an item no longer used, such as a fax machine, or wringer washing machine. Entries, for the prize below, close at noon on Thursday, January 9, 2020.