I can’t think off the cuff well, I have to prepare. If I don’t I get beaten every time. So my approach to wordplay is 'cover every angle.' My previous posts have hinted at a difficult working relationship. Here we go then the big word fight I thought I would never win, anger and hate with words and language.
I settled my quiver full of adjectives on the ground before me. Each had been hand-picked from ‘Roget.’ Gripping one with forefinger and thumb I placed it in the bow of my noun. I let it loose and quickly reloaded. Her response was a verbal volley of stinging barbs. Ducking instinctively I heard the angry words rush over me, felt their wind. Hers seemed so well chosen, with the right emphasis and deadly accurate.
I patted my jeans, sure I had some reserve adverbs in my back pocket, hell where did I put them? Ah, they were up my sleeve. Would I have time to weave them around suitable verbs? The squeaking stretch of her catapult heralded another attack. I winced as a tennis ball sized insult took skin off my forehead. Wiping away the blood and fighting back tears of anger I threw a limp poetic phrase at her. It fell yards short and she roared laughter of disdain.
My puny ammunition was running out. I tried a bitter-sweet oxymoron which failed to ignite. Her almighty alliteration angled at me without warning. Now I was gravely wounded. I reached for my last palindrome in an attempt to confuse her but she brushed it off like so much waffle.
‘Pretentious arsehole,’ I heard her say as she pulled the pin on a fully-formed argument the shape of a grenade. It went off in my face tearing flesh and leaving holes. Moving in she tried to deeply crack my head with a split infinitive. I rolled over at the last minute and retorted with a gentle couplet. What had seemed so potent the night before now appeared lame.
She was gathering her remaining arsenal when suddenly I remembered sarcasm, that thunderous sledgehammer which pulverises simple, rational thought. It had been by my side all along and now I held its woody shaft a degree of confidence returned. She had had this coming for a long time and the heavy swing felt oh so very good as I smacked it into my palm in preparation then screamed:
“You have such a pretty face, how unfortunate that the whole illusion of beauty is shattered when you open your mouth!” The fifteen pound lump crunched into her skull and she fell dead at a stroke. I nodded slowly as I watched the remnants of her flimsy vocabulary scattering in the wind.
“I am one of those melodramatic fools
Neurotic to the bone no doubt about it.”
Green Day – Basket Case
11 comments:
Not my wife F. Thankfully it refers to the woman who is no longer my boss. I will never have to see her or receive her vitriol again, phew!
Thanks for the poem Denis, 'flattery will get you everywhere' they say. "she ne'er came out again!" Simple yet chilling that.
When a woman gets mouthy, you make subtle references to her being a sexual object; it's their greatest power in arguments, but plainly stated, it's their greatest weakness.
ME - you cut straight to the chase don't you! I like that directness, perhaps I'm too circumspect.
Sleeping the way to the top does leave the sleeper with an achilles heel.
Flea - now that is a scathing put-down line! It's the implied next line that is so powerful.
You know the old rhyme:
'Sticks and stones may break my bones,
But your words will never harm me."
Well I disagree with that. I firmly believe that well-chosen words can deliver a crushing blow. You might tell from my post I have immense respect for the power of language.
Well done perfect:)
I have a beautiful 19 yr old sister that that line works well for. Its nothing but bad language and what not, with every word she speaks she disgraces herself!!
I've also heard it said like this:
Sticks and stones may break your bones,
but words can tear your heart out.
DG - isn't language both beautiful and ugly. On balance I prefer beauty.
Jen - that proves my point then. I even think it makes more sense that way. (Tearing the heart out, yes - now I feel amid broken heart surgery without anaesthetic...)
Nobody noticed the sexual underpinnings of this story.
Sir, I "smack" my "wooden shaft into my hand" all the time too, and I daresay I am tempted to hit a woman in the face with it.
Because of the incredible size...I am certain the consequences of doing that would be...messy. Like yours, it's a 15-pounder.
-A
Argus - Mere Existence hinted at it I think but I didn't see it myself until later. Attraction is of course not necessarily a pre-requisite for sex and believe me I was not attracted to this young, sour vindictive sow!
There is nothing more incisive than a retort which takes care of body and mind in a single swing of the tongue.
Well bloody done!
Yes Ruk, well put. If you could hear her 'flimsy vocabulary' you'd shake your head in resignation that a giant Corporate Player would hoist such ill-educated trash to undeserved dizzy heights.
I console myself in the intimate knowledge that although I'm no scholar, those arses can never be my intellectual equal. Can I say that? Yes I think I can.
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