Each month there is a #blogbattle prompt. This month it’s Scar. I came up with this (don’t judge)
Jerome Pabulum considered his life. That done and no conclusions having been reached, he pushed open the door and entered Ink In A Blink. The bell jangled twice, anxiously and then swallowed the third jangle as Jerome gave it a jaundiced side eye.
A strange hirsute figure unfolded itself from behind a counter. Something akin to a smile emerged from the curly ginger hair. ‘Can one assist you, in your inking requisites?’
Jerome had stalled just inside the door as the proprietor revealed himself, but now re-engaged first gear and slid forward. ‘Are you the Artiste formerly known as Reg?’
‘Indeed where once I was Reg, I am now the Artiste who formerly went by that nomenclature.’
‘And now?’
‘I still answer to Reg. Or Oi you, Womble face.’
‘I am in need of the Artiste.’
‘I’m your troll.’
‘A troll? That would explain the follicular fecundity.’
‘You what?’
‘The hair.’
‘Oh right. So…’
‘You have a reputation for being the best tattooist in the high street.’
‘I ink in a blink!’
‘I’m in no rush.’
‘I can ink at whatever pace makes you comfortable.’
‘I tend to perambulate.’
‘A pacifist?’
‘Just slow.’
Reg the Troll lifted his counter and ushered Jerome into the studio. He offered him a choice of seats and slippers.
Jerome chose a green velour wingback and diamanté kitten heel combo and settled down. He studied the instrument tray and the stack of design books.
Reg the Troll’s pelt rippled like an aerated curtain. ‘Does sir have a particular design in mind?’
‘It’s the Rt. Hon. The Sir will follow my pater’s demise.’
‘Sorry?’
‘When my dad snuffs it. It’s an hereditary knighthood.’
‘Is that a thing? I thought it was peerages that ran on.’
‘I think that’s rather titleist if you don’t mind me saying. Having been daubed by an HRH the family see no reason why we who follow shouldn’t inherit his gong.’
‘What did he receive his honour for?’
‘Services to insemination.’
‘Should I ask for more details?’
‘Are you left handed?’
‘No, I tend to avoid sugary breakfasts.’
‘Then don’t ask.’
‘Of course. Your tattoo, Rt. Hon.?’
Jerome leant forward and rolled up the left leg on his trousers.
Reg the Troll hinged forward and studied the bared flesh. ‘Something of a Scar problem, I see.’
‘You can tell?’
‘We offer a recovering service to anyone mauled in a cartoon. We’ve had Baloo tears and rips from that chappie off Monsters Inc.’
‘Scully?’
‘Not on an empty stomach, thank you. A rip from his Royal Scarship is not uncommon.’
‘And CGI?’
‘A fifty percent discount if the lamination on your pixels has discombobulated.’
‘Very fair. I was hoping for something uplifting and musical that appeals to both adults and children.’
‘Perhaps I might suggest a full bodied Shrek with the fruity notes of Madagascar and a tincture of Up.’
Jerome considered his lacerated calf. ‘I’m not good with heights.’
‘Of course. The Rt. Hon. might prefer a cheeky Bambi-Frozen blend. Would you like it gift wrapped?’
‘No, I’ll wear it immediately.’
‘Naturally. While I prepare the needles would you like a coffee? Or a cryogenic coma?’
‘Maybe you could top up my antifreeze and check my tyres. Your bell jangled at me earlier. I wondered if it had sensed the depth of my tread.’
‘I’m sorry about that. It’s set to jingle but occasionally it can forget its manners.’
Jerome nodded. ‘I’m all yours Master Troll. Do you mind if I strum my zither while you work?’
‘As long as you stay within the plastic sheeting and avoid all condiments for twenty-four hours. Now where did I put my peccadildoes? ’
TanGental 
I have judged despite your pleadings. I’ve called for a dominatrix to attend the establishment, I feel the situation needs one!
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Undoubtedly wise. Does she underwire?
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Indubitably!
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Jaw-dropping good Geoff. (Excuse my drool.)
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Drool is cool…
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😁
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This left me agog!
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A gog is as good as a gridle. Avoid cold winds and you should right eventually…
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Holy Disney Discompooperades!
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That’s the perfect description
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You made me laugh even though I did not want too😊
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Sorry there should be a warning
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Yes indeed…. Could you organise one next time please 💜
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I’ll try.
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Why thank you Sir !
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Bravo Geoff… personally the jingling entry would benefit from strategically placed blue tac…or spent chewing gum. Although the latter might migrate and find a school desk, so stick with the former….
A needle baring Troll though is quite a thought… does he pull the blinds out during daylight lest the sun condemns him to stone mid thread?
And did I detect a deliberate poke at the peerage system perchance?
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I have only the deepest sympathy for anyone burdened with a title; even if they are jolly fine chaps or chapesses, we’re going to assume they come from somewhere far up the total tosser spectrum.
And glad you enjoyed the story.
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A good point Geoff. For many it’s life destroying. In the limelight purely through birth rite. A normality of “normal” existence denied so to speak.
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I can imagine how awful being royal must be and bonkers is anyone to marry into the Firm
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Agreed, more so for those on the sidelines… part of the Firm, but with no real say or prospects of “promotion.” Still, they do have nice holiday homes 🤔
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Pingback: #BlogBattle Stories: Scar | BlogBattle
Impressive and clever quick-fire cross-talk set in an absorbing off-kilter world.
This has me thinking back to the glory days of vaudeville and Spike Milligan.
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Now there’s a compliment I’ll not forget. Thank you muchly…
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Credit where credit is due, I always say.👍
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Twisted and amusing as always – although this time you thrilled me with the word Discombobulated. Dreadfully underused. Of course your word choice often falls within the realm of Incredibles.
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How kind. My sesquipedalian tendencies are rarely appreciated!
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