Once again I’m reposting a scene to reintroduce my old Adventures with Ben & Jerry characters. This is the second in a series of three preexisting scenes that were written back in 2008 or 2009 and posted on the Torquere Livejournal Social Group. Way back when, authors at Torquere would sign up to host the group for a day when they wanted to promote a new release (or whatever). One of the things authors often did while hosting was ask for prompt words, then a mere couple hours later, post a ficlet featuring those words. The scene I’m reposting today was the result of one of those times.

I made a few minor tweaks to the original post (and added the word “tinsel” that was left on last week’s post), but it remains mostly unchanged. Full disclosure: commenters were able to leave as many words as they wanted, and I only promised to use at least one from each. I kept that promise, and in the end I used twenty-five words (or phrases) left by ten commenters, and only four on the table. Here are the original twenty-five:

woodpile — kindling — hearth — watermelon — mango — heat — howl — brother — stars — cincher — stallion — snow — ice — windy — bitter cold — jingle bells — fruit cake — colored balls — squirrel — pudding — toaster — sir — chocolate — grin —batteries not included

(In case you’re interested, the ones I didn’t use were: thunder, photocopier, red-nose, and spider.)

“I’m not calling in sick to play hooky again!” Ben was adamant.

But, Jerry’s grin was mischievous. Ben was learning to get nervous when that grin appeared. “I’m not saying right now. We can plan it for Saturday.”

“But a picnic? In December? I don’t know. It’s pretty darned bitter cold out there. Not to mention windy as hell. All we’d need is snow and ice to make it the craziest picnic on record.”

Jerry laughed and looked at him like he was the one that was nuts. “Not outside. We’ll spread out a blanket in front of the fireplace. I’ll scrounge through what’s left of the woodpile for logs and kindling. The heat from a roaring fire will be just the thing to make us forget the howl of the wind outside.”

Some of the tension drained from Ben’s shoulders. That sounded pretty good, actually. Ben could get behind a cozy little hearth-side carpet picnic. “I wonder if I can find a watermelon in December? Or mango. I love mango.” Especially since learning it was an aphrodisiac.

“Yeah, and pudding. I love chocolate pudding.”

“Well yeah, I can make pudding, but that’s not picnic food. Heck, we might as well break out Aunt Gertrude’s fruitcake if we’re not going to stick to the theme.” He’d much rather squirrel that heavy monstrosity away somewhere in case they both lost their jobs and were starving. Really starving, ’cause damn.

“Oh, okay.” Jerry rolled his eyes. “Hey, let’s do it after dark so it can be like we’re camping next to a campfire. The Christmas tree lights reflecting off the colored balls and tinsel will be like we’re looking up at the stars.”

Well maybe for someone with Jerry’s imagination, but Ben could go with that. Night would be better for getting frisky in front of the fireplace, and he could certainly get behind that. “Fine.”

“One more thing…”

Oh brother. “What?”

“Wear that waist cincher I got you for your birthday? You haven’t worn it for me yet.”

Ben’s mouth opened but nothing came out. Well, okay, he could do that. He’d had way more fun than he’d ever expected to have the last time Jerry’d gotten a wild hair in his ass, and Ben had ended up with a purple dildo in his. He nodded.

Jerry’s grin widened. “Good. I’ll have you open that present with the gold jingle bells on it, too. Hey, make sure we have some double A’s.”

“Double A’s?”

“Yeah, batteries. The box you’ll be unwrapping said ‘batteries not included’. We’ll definitely want to have some on hand.”

Ben took a deep, steadying breath. Jerry hadn’t steered him wrong yet. He blushed to admit it, but he liked it when Jerry turned all dom on him like that. Jerry turned into such a—for lack of a less cheesy word—stallion. “Okay. I’ll make sure we have some.”

“Oh, and the toaster. We’ll need to bring the toaster out here, too.”

Ben’s eyes widened. “Do I want to ask?”

“Probably not.”

“You going to make me call you ‘Sir‘ again?”

“That a problem?”

No. It sure wasn’t.

I think when I created Harrison and Mason, I must’ve modeled them after Ben and Jerry—at least somewhat. Ben and Jerry are a little wackier, though.

Since I’m still trying to put all my free time into a short story I need to finish by the end of the month, I’ll probably post the other final existing installment in the Ben and Jerry ficlets next Friday. Even so, you are welcome to leave a prompt word in the comments, below. If I can reasonably work it into the next scene (like I did with “tinsel” this week, then I’ll do that. Otherwise, I’ll hold it for the next fresh scene I write.