Prompt 11

Words: Cauliflower, veneer, loquacious, bipartisan, windmill

Vincent and his wife Lucy were driving a long stretch of highway; his teeth clenched tightly. Vincent’s mother-in-law was sitting in the back seat chattering as usual. The wrench could talk up a storm about any and all subjects known in the civilized world. If she had a pause imprint on her forehead Vincent would of punched it miles ago. Lucy was asleep and the radio was busted so poor Vincent had to sit there and bare it.

I have to do something about that hole in her head or I will go nuts.

The loquacious witch would even scream a warning that a yellow light flashed in an upcoming intersection yards before the car reached it. She would continuously complain that they were lost or running late because of the muddled conductor.

Who me !?

Vincent had to stop somewhere in the middle of nowhere before his impatience would make him do something he would regret later – a clenched fist smashing her nose into her brainless skull.

Up ahead Vincent saw a group of tall, white windmills - the modern ones with the very long blades. His foot suddenly metamorphosed into an iron block snapping all heads backward and waking Lucy. Vincent watched the old bitch in the rear view mirror and for a second thought he saw steam escape her nostrils.

Vincent zoned-out her bickering until he finally reached the tall turbines by the roadway. Vincent pulled over and Lucy gave Vincent a quizzical look and her ugly bag just sat there blinking and wearing a dumb expression. They both failed to unmask his blissful veneer: he must of appeared tired and drunk from all the yapping. Vincent rolled his weary eyes and targeted the spinning arms. Vincent opened the driver's side door, as if he needed to take in a much needed breath of air, and ran across the field to the nearest tower. Vincent leaned against it for what seemed an eternity – weighing a bipartisan dilemma.

Either that loud mouth gets out of my car or I will remain in the safety of these wind mills.

Before Vincent could say, scram you old crone, Lucy approached with a query bark stuck in her throat. Vincent stated he was near madness making Lucy's eyes bulge in utter bewilderment.

Have you finally lost it Vincent?

He suddenly remembered the ice cooler, took Lucy by the arm, and tugged her briskly back to the car. The blasted bitch sitting in the rear of the car began her temper tantrum at seeing Vincent get within ear shot. Vincent ignored her bitter scorns, walked to the rear of the car, opened the hatch, reached into the cooler, and pulled out a small cauliflower. He then jammed it hard into her bellowing mouth; wedging it into her false dentures.

Shut up you blustering whiner! You jabbering maggot! Shut up!

The old lady sat erect in total silence. Then, quite surprisingly (and as they continued down the interstate), the radio miraculously came alive with music, and Vincent whistled each tune – head bobbling, and shoulders moving to and fro - until the threesome reached their final destination.