Week 7 Wordzzle

Almost forgot to post this week's wordzzle! Head over to Raven's, follow the linky thing and read em all!

This Week's Ten Word Challenge is: fruitcake, necromancer, gibberish, marshland, Lone Ranger, hog-wild, effluvia, plaintiff, phonograph, fern

And for the Mini Challenge: frozen, history, myrmidon, Shylock, incapacitated

I've mashed them all together and here ya go. I'm heading out to play-you guys be cool.


The plaintiff had stolen the fruitcake on his way out, that much was plain. A lone ranger; the neighbors called the big, black bullmastiff, Necromancer. I referred to him as Shylock, or Shy, for short. Why? Because he seemed determined to bankrupt me, little pieces at a time-he and I, we have a very long history. A spray of his DNA was evident on the fern next to the couch in my cabin, built on the edge of the marshland that drained the village's effluvia and hid it's darkest deeds. His barks and howls, merely gibberish, repeating like the scratched vinyl left skipping on the ancient phonograph as he disappeared into the night-shrouded swamp, like an angry poltergeist, still protesting his innocence, as he had when caught near the pond, frozen in my headlights, the cake still seated firmly in his slavering jaws. He had, by the looks of the damage to the cabin, gone hog-wild, even raiding the fridge. Someday, I’m going to have to shoot that dog. I rounded the corner and stopped, incapacitated at the doorway to my den. My Computer! The tower, lying on its side, is covered in a mound of recently watered potting soil, shattered planter and dismembered ficus. The monitor, sporting the Blue Screen Of Death, was cracked. Only hours ago it held the UNSAVED wordzzle I had worked on for too long to loose it to a plant-murdering, house-wrecking mutt. “What the hell”, I thought. “I was never going to figure out a way to tie in the damn Myrmidons into that story, anyway.” I cracked a still-cold beer, spilled out of the fridge by my arch-enemy, and walked out to the edge of the swamp.


Peace