Happyfest is GO!
HAPPYFEST III
Yup, this is it, folks, the complete list of prompts for this year's Happyfest. The rules haven't changed from last year, the first of which is:
READ THE RULES BEFORE WRITING!
(there are notes about spoilers that I NEED you to read)
( The rest are under here )
Yup, this is it, folks, the complete list of prompts for this year's Happyfest. The rules haven't changed from last year, the first of which is:
READ THE RULES BEFORE WRITING!
(there are notes about spoilers that I NEED you to read)
( The rest are under here )
Henry said something a little stronger that was probably making Father Mulcahy’s ears turn red from here, but it was drowned out as their jeep made a strange little leap and burst into flame, and then it was all he could do to keep them both in one piece while dirt and bits of metal rained down.
And, just like that, it was over. Radar swiped some dirt from his glasses in a quick, nervous movement, poked his head up. “I think they’re done, sir,” he said.
“Yeah,” Henry said.
“I think we can get up now.”
“Okay.”
They sat in silence for a while. At some point, Henry realized he’d managed to keep hold of the bottle of gin, and took a swig.
Radar shifted. “You think they’re worried about us at camp?”
“Probably.” Henry dredged up a reassuring smile. “We should start heading back before Frank realizes he’s in charge.”
Radar shot him a weak grin, and, scrambling to his feet, offered Henry his hand. “Yes, sir.”
“All right.” Henry hauled himself up, nearly pulling Radar back down with him. He stumbled a couple steps after he got vertical and told himself it was just the booze. “So much for fishing. I hate to go back empty-handed.” He watched as a few sparks flew from the smoking husk of the jeep. “Maybe a little worse than empty-handed.”
Radar was staring past him, at the lake. “Uh, that might not be a problem, sir.”
Henry turned, and it took him a very long time to realize just what he was looking at. He whistled. “Well, I’ll be damned.”
“That’s one way to go fishing,” Radar said.
They were very, very silent for a few long moments, watching the fish bob on the surface of the water, like demented buoys, gleaming in the morning sunlight. Henry laughed first, loudly enough that it seemed to echo forever off the mountains, and then they were both in hysterics, leaning on each other for support.
So maybe they got back to camp a little later than expected, and maybe the bottle was a little emptier than when they’d left, and maybe Radar had to hold Henry up while Frank whined about his ruined uniform and his brainless bunkies, and maybe the casualties started coming in again, and maybe the whole damn war kept on going the same way it always had.
Maybe, just this once, the sun was a little brighter.
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