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My First Review!

Hey 3.5 readers.

BQB here.

I’m sorry.  My book is like my baby and I’m one of those parents who makes a post every time his kid poops or burps or does something he finds adorable but most people think is lame.

Anyway, I received my first review!  And it was a 5 star!  So thank you, reader.  You have exceptional taste in books and you are an astute reviewer of books because honestly, BQB’s Big Book of Badass Writing Prompts really and truly is a 5 star book.

And it can be yours for 99 cents!

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Toilet Gator – Chapter 105

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Rung…nung…nung…

Cole focused all of his attention on getting the chainsaw started. He yanked furiously on the starter cord. Occasionally, this would give the saw a little jolt. It was brand new, but it was wet, so it would sputter for a bit then shut down again.

“Come on!” Cole shouted as he yanked the starter cord. “Start, damn you!”

FOOM!

Cole looked up to see a missile shoot out of Felix’s Javelin, up into the school and then ever so gracefully, it locked onto the toilet gator, following the beast as it moved through the water until….KABOOM! There was an all consuming fireball, followed by a twenty foot wall of water that rose up into the air before quickly dissipating.

Felix gave a “thumbs up” sign to Cole. Cole looked around, searching for any signs of gator life.

“Did you get him?” Cole asked.

“Errm,” Felix replied.

One by one, members of the gang poked their heads over the side of the roof. Walter had never stopped filming and caught superb footage of the explosion.

Cole looked at Sharon. “Do you see him?”

Sharon struggled to look through the rain at the flooded street below. “I don’t see anything.”

Rusty threw up his hands and cried, “Woo! Victory baby! Time to go home and crack open some frosty brews!”

Cole grabbed the paddle and moved the canoe a few feet towards where the explosion had occurred moments earlier.

“Something isn’t right,” Cole said.

“You think so?” Sharon shouted out.

“That was just way too…easy.”

“You’re over thinking it, bro!” Rusty hollered. “That sucker’s dead, ya hear? Deader than the night life in Amish country, he’s deader than Elvis!”

“I don’t know,” Cole said.

“Forget about it!” Rusty yelled. “Let’s go kick back and as soon as this storm is over we’ll find his carcass and use it to make some belts, some shoes, maybe some alligator handbags for the ladies.”

“I could go for an alligator handbag,” Maude said.

“No thanks,” Sharon said. “I only do designer.”

Cole sat in the canoe in silence for another minute or so. “Huh,” he said as he picked up the paddle. “Maybe he really is…

“RAARGA!”

Skippy erupted out of the water and grabbed the side of the canoe with his sharp claws. He snapped his jaws up and down in Cole’s direction, wanting nothing more than to get the great hunter between his teeth, down his throat and into his belt.

Cole thought fast and jammed the oar vertically between Skippy’s jaws, preventing the monster from closing its mouth. This slowed Skippy down, though Cole quickly noticed that the oar was beginning to crack and bend under the pressure.

Rung….nah….nah…nah…

Cole yanked the chainsaw’s starter cord again. Rung-nah-nah-nah-nah…..

“Come on, God!” Cole shouted at the sky. “If you ever cared about me, please! Make this thing start!”

He pulled the cord again. Rung-nah-nah-nah….

SNAP! The oar broke in two. Skippy spit the pieces out and lunged forward. The canoe was starting to go down. Cole could feel water spilling into his shoes, water that was entering the canoe as Skippy pressed down on it with his formidable bulk.

He gave the cord one last try. Rung-nah-nah-nah-nah-nah-nah-nah-NUNG-NUNG-NUNG-NUNG-NUNG!

The chainsaw motor was humming now. The chain turned at a rapid pace, and not a second too soon, for Cole barely prevented himself from becoming gator chow by ramming the blade right into Skippy’s mouth. Sparks flew off of Skippy’s teeth as they connected with the blade.

Up top, the gang watched in horror as their beloved hero staved off the creature.

“You got another missile, Felix?” Rusty asked.

“Errm, errm,” Felix said.

“Shit,” Rusty said.

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Toilet Gator – Chapter 104

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An old tarp flapped in the breeze on the roof of the hardware store. Whatever was stowed away underneath it, it was of considerable size. Rain pelted it and ran off onto the gravel that covered the top of the building.

“Will you get that camera out of my face?” Sharon asked.

Walter kept rolling.

“We have to document this!” Natalie snapped. “This is the biggest story since…since…I don’t think there’s ever been anything this big!”

Burt and Rusty set the canoe down.

“The hell do you think he wanted this for?” Burt asked.

“Beats me,” Rusty replied.

The door leading to the roof swung open and Cole rushed through it, chainsaw in one hand, Angry Barracuda in the other. “He’s coming! He’s coming!”

Skippy’s terrifying “ROAR!” bellowed up through the stairwell and up into the open air.

“Get back!” Cole cried as he pushed everyone aside. He jumped into the canoe and looked up at Rusty. “Throw me off!”

Rusty was puzzled. “What?”

“RAARGA!” Skippy bashed through the door and bared his teeth.

“He just wants me!” Cole shouted. “Throw me off!”

Burt grabbed one end of the canoe while Rusty grabbed the other. They carried the canoe and passenger over to the side of the roof and then started to swing the load back and forth as they counted. “1…2…”

Sharon cocked her shotgun and fired at Skippy. The gator charged right through the blast, hellbent on grinding Cole between his jaws.

“Cole,” Sharon said. “I hope you know what you’re doing!”

“I don’t but I’ve got to do something!” Cole replied.

“I love you!” Sharon shouted.

“I love you too!” Cole replied.

“Gag!” Rusty said.

“Pussy!” Maude added.

“Throw me already!” Cole demanded.

Rusty and Burt cried out in unison, “3!” They let go of the canoe on the final outward swing and watched as Cole and the canoe separated on the way down. Skippy bypassed everyone on the roof and jumped after Cole. The gang crowded around the roof as Cole, the canoe, and the gator each landed in the water with a splash.

The rain and wind made it difficult to see much of anything below.

“Did he make it?” Sharon asked frantically. “Rusty! Did he make it!”

“I don’t know,” Rusty said.

“Oh God,” Sharon said. “He can’t be dead. He just can’t be.”

Rusty looked away. “This is hopeless. Maybe we should just give up.”

The tarp was pushed to the sign and a shadowy silhouette emerged out from under it, carrying a very large object in his hands. The gang did not notice this newcomer until he was standing right next to them.

He began to speak. “At times like these, I’m reminded of the words that the great Winston Churchill once uttered in an effort to give his people hope at a time when the Nazi scourge made the cause of freedom in Europe seem hopeless.”

Rusty stared at the man in shock. “What the?”

“Those words, applied to our present day situation would be, ‘Even though large tracts of our town have fallen under the grip of the toilet gator and all the odious apparatus of toilet gator rule, we shall not flag or fail.”

Burt looked at the man. “I’ll be damned.”

The mystery man continued. “We shall go on to the end, we shall fight the toilet gator in Sitwell. We shall fight the toilet gator on the seas and oceans. We shall fight the toilet gator with growing confidence and growing strength in the air. We shall defend our town against the toilet gator, whatever the cost may be.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Maude said.

“We shall fight the toilet gator on the beaches. We shall fight the toilet gator on the landing grounds. We shall fight the toilet gator in the fields and in the streets. We shall fight the toilet gator in the hills. We shall never surrender against the toilet gator.”

The man looked over the side of the roof and pointed out Cole, who was, at that very moment, pulling himself out of the water and into the canoe. Despite the rain and wind battering their faces, the gang cheered and applauded.

“And even if, which I do not for a moment believe, this town or a large part of it were subjugated and starving under toilet gator rule, then our Empire beyond the seas, armed and guarded by our noble fleet, would carry on the struggle against the toilet gator, until, in God’s good time, the New World, with all its power and might, steps forth to the rescue and the liberation of the old against toilet gator oppression.”

Sharon put a hand on the man’s shoulder. “Felix. That was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Errm,” Felix said.

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Toilet Gator Mistake

Yeah, it just dawned on me that Walter and Natalie should have been filming the whole toilet gator showdown in downtown Sitwell but I forgot about them for the past few chapters.  I’ll fix it in the second draft.  For now, they suddenly appear out of nowhere again.  Sigh.  A writer’s work is never done.

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Search Engine Optimized Poet – An Ode to Bookshelf Q. Battler’s 35 Cents

:::Bongo Drum Beats:::

Hey there all you hep cats and hep kittens. Come on down to the East Randomtown Java Bean, where the poets always stink and the cups are never clean.

Next on the mic is the one and only Search Engine Optimized Poet…the only rhyme-smith whose beats bring in the web searchers’ feets, ya dig?

BQB’s latest royalty earnings report for BQB’s Writing Prompts.

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35 cents!  Whoa, 35 cents!

BQB’s book sales profits are incredibly immense!

What will he buy, with 35 cents?

The possibilities are long and intense!

A fence?  To put around BQB HQ to keep out his legions of fans?

Sands, tropical sands, and the best laid plans of mouses and mans.

Jams!  BQB, make your jelly shake…

At the thought of the 35 cents you just did make.

You can now bake…35% of a cake.

Or sleep in a motel room for 35% of the time until you do wake.

Snake.  You could probably buy a serpent.

Or a few flakes of off brand laundry detergent.

Insurgent.  The lady who wrote that made much more than you.

But don’t feel bad, for 35 cents is better than a pile of poo.

That’ll do pig, that’ll do.  It’s what the farmer said to Babe.  I thought you knew.

Didn’t you?  Didn’t you already spend your 35 cents on a stick of gum?

Maybe you should just spread good will and give your 35 cents to a bum.

 

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Toilet Gator – Chapter 103

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WHAM, WHAM, WHAM! Skippy head butted the glass window of Pemberton’s Hardware store until the tiniest crack formed and a slow but steady trickle of water poured onto the floor.

“That’ll never hold,” Sharon said.

Cole pounded his thumb down on the detonator button, yet the alligator remained intact. “Damn this thing!”

The great hunter looked around the store, putting his mind to work on what could be used to extricate everyone from this dismal state. He saw a canoe.

“Rusty, Burt! Get that upstairs now!”

“Sure thing, boss,” Rusty said.

“We’re on it,” Burt added.

“Sharon,” Cole said. “Get Maude upstairs.”

“Cole,” Sharon said. “What are you..”

WHAM! Skippy was getting angrier and that crack was getting bigger. More water trickled in.

“No time to explain!”

Sharon nodded and put her arm around Maude, nudging her toward a stairwell located behind the counter. Maude shook Sharon’s arm off. “Unhand me, woman! I’m fine.”

Cole checked the chamber of his Angry Barracuda. One bullet left. He would need to make it count. He grabbed a menacing looking chainsaw with an extra long blade, then searched the store frantically until he found a gas can behind the counter. He used it to fill up the chainsaw, then grabbed a piece of rope.

SMASH! The store window was obliterated, and shards of glass sprayed all over as water gushed in, flooding the entire bottom floor. Cole narrowly escaped being swept away as he headed upstairs.

Skippy swam inside and looked around for his target. He’d grown a visceral hatred of Cole and wanted him dead. Seeing his opponent nowhere, he roared out of sheer frustration, then waddled upstairs.

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Toilet Gator – Chapter 102

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Skippy was stunned, but not down for the count yet. He reeled from the explosion, which bought the gang just enough time to retreat into Pemberton’s Hardware store. After Sharon picked the lock, everyone ran inside and hid behind the counter. Their clothes were sopping wet, dripping water all over the floor.

“Are you going to be ok without your oxygen, my little cumquat?” Burt asked

“Cumquat?” Cole asked.

“Yes,” Maude replied. “I can’t go all day without it but I should be fine for a few hours, my handsome stallion.”

“Handsome stallion?” Cole looked to Rusty. “When did that happen?”

“Last night,” Rusty said. “Oh, by the way, good job Burt.”

Burt and Rusty exchanged a high-five.

“Nothing stops him,” Sharon said. “We’ve tried bullets, grenades, trucks, explosives.”

“Speaking of that,” Cole said as he pulled the detonator stick out of his pocket and pressed the red button a bunch of times. “Moses really screwed the pooch here.”

“What a pussy,” Rusty said. “Turning tail and running out on us in our time of need.”

“I don’t know,” Cole said as he pulled out his phone and sent a text message to Moses. “Why…won’t…C4…work…and…failure to send. Shit, Hurricane Dakota Rothschild has shut everything down.”

“Just like a rich socialite bitch,” Rusty said. “Everything is about her.”

The gang took an hour. They rested. Dozed off. Loaded their weapons. Raided the hardware store for supplies. They even helped themselves to some beef jerky and chips set up near the counter in an impulse buy display.

“What’s next, fearless leader?” Rusty asked.

Cole stepped over to the store’s front window. The complete lower half of the building was now submerged in water. Parked cars, downed utility poles, assorted debris, everything out on the street looked as though it had been magically transported to the bottom of the ocean.

“The hurricane to end all hurricanes,” Cole said.

“At the same time as the gator to end all gators,” Rusty added.

“Just our luck,” Sharon said.

Cole draped his arm around Sharon’s shoulder and looked out at the town underwater. “Story of our life, babe. If it weren’t for bad luck, we’d have no luck at all.”

“I don’t know about that,” Sharon said. “I feel lucky to have you.”

“Gag,” Rusty said.

“Pussy!” Maude shouted.

“Yeah, Cole!” Burt said. “You big pussy!”

Cole glared at Burt.

“What?” Burt said. “Sorry. I just wanted in on the fun.”

“Look people,” Cole said. “Sharon and I are back together. Anyone got a problem with that?”

Maude pulled out a flask and took a swig. “No problem. It’s your life. I just think you’re a pussy for taking her back is all.”

“There were extenuating circumstances,” Cole said. “We’ll explain when Mother Nature and a thunder lizard aren’t conspiring to destroy us, OK?”

Rusty squinted into the grimy water through the store’s dirty glass. “Where the hell did old snappy jaws go anyway?”

“Good question,” Sharon said. “I don’t see him.”

“You think he’s gone?” Rusty asked.

Maude emitted a boozy burp. “That sucker ran away with his tail between his legs. Probably half way to Cuba by now.”

“I don’t know,” Cole said as he stared into the water. “Something about this doesn’t seem…”

WHAM! Out of nowhere, Skippy pounded his head into the window and roared. The gang let out a collective scream. “Ack!”

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Toilet Gator – Chapter 100

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Downtown Sitwell was a mess of old buildings lined up on either side of a narrow road, a tribute of sorts to a time straight out of yesteryear, back when Mom and Pop shops thrived. The Sitwell Park Mall had long rendered the district obsolete, though many small businesses, ranging from flower stores and clothing boutiques, to bakeries, delis and restaurants, struggled on.

The gang entered the area in a convoy, with the Diablo up front first, Burt and Cole’s rig second, an insanely enraged Skippy third and Maude bringing up the rear. Save for a few parked cars, the stores had been abandoned due to the hurricane, which was unleashing buckets of non-stop rain and oppressive winds.

One gust ripped a parking meter right out of the sidewalk on the left hand side of the road and sent it soaring through the first rig’s windshield. Burt and Cole looked away just in time to avoid being blinded by the scattered shards of glass as the meter landed in the cab between them.

“Mother of God!” Burt cried.

BRAMP! BRAMP! Maude blared on her horn. “Boys, you’re gonna wanna speed up, because I’m gonna ram that sucker!”

“You think that’s such a good idea?” Sharon asked.

“Do first, think second,” Maude said. “That’s…bzztt…bsshhhk…been my way my whole life and it’s got me this far.”

Cole realized his mother figure was about to put herself in some serious danger, but he also knew there would be no use in trying to talk her out of it. “Good luck, Maude.”

“Don’t need luck,” Maude replied. “I got skills.”

Maude stepped on the gas. Her rig sped up, moving down the narrow road, coming ever so close to that big green tail when all of a sudden, skipped turned, jumped into the air, and attacked the rig head on. He chomped his way through the engine block, bringing the rig to such an abrupt stop while it had been traveling a high speed that entire vehicle, cab and trailer, jack-knifed.

Cole watched in his rear view mirror as the trailer tipped over and bashed its way through a number of businesses – Tony’s Pizzeria, Mr. Flashy’s Tux Shop, the Red Rose Florist, Leon’s Deli. The trailer finally rested inside the office of B and G Insurance Company.

Burt hit the brakes. “Jesus! Is she ok?”

“Maude?” Cole screamed into bluetooth headset. “Maude!”

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I Sold My First Book

Hey 3.5 readers.

I’m trying not to be that guy, you know the “Oh look at me I self-published a book guy!” but sometimes this blog is more for me than for you, although I’m happy to have all 3.5 of you.

Often, I forget what I write and surprise myself with forgotten memories years later.  So I’d like to record this one.

I sold my first book!  I’ve given 120 copies away for free but now someone actually parted with money to read my book.  Huzzah!

Priced at 99 cents, I have an entire 35 cents coming my way (Amazon gets the other 64 cents.)

What should I do with my newfound 35 cents, 3.5 readers?  (Hmm…is that a sign, since “35” is just 3.5 without the point?  Interesting…)

I thought about cashing it out and wearing the coins in a little sack around my neck.  It would probably impress all the ladies at da club.

But instead, I think I will save it.  I’ve got an empty mayonnaise jar on my desk and it is labeled “BQB’s Malibu Beach House Party Featuring Scantily Clad Women of Ill Repute with Loose Morals.”

35 cents in.  $999,999.64 to go.

Anyone want to pay me $999,999.64 for a book?  No?  OK just checking.

Thank you first person to buy my book.  I hope you enjoy it.

Be the second person to buy my book for 99 cents!

Bookshelf Q battlers for Amazon

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