12
Title: Salem, Minnesota.
Author: Lopaka Tanu
Prompt: 12. Heat exhaustion/stroke
Claim: General Golden Girls
Rating: Mature Adults
Genre: Humor.
Summary: Dorothy meets a few of Rose's relatives.
Disclaimer: I do not own the Golden Girls.
_________________________________________
"Any last words before we burn you, witch?" Holding the flaming torch, Johan Linstrum stood with his cousins at the pyre ready to light it.
In the center of the pyre, attached to the stake, Dorothy glared at Rose's cousin. "I'll make sure all of you pay for this! I curse you all to a fiery death." An ironic choice of words that made her wince. "Lightning and hell fire shall rain down upon you, destroying you all!"
"A witch's curse ends with her, the good book says!" Holding up a leather bound edition written by Cotton Mather, Clemen Linstrum smirked at her. "We know all your tricks, witch!"
"Please, this is all a mistake." If threatening them hadn't worked, pleading might. "All I said was that it was going to hail yesterday."
"And it did! Only a witch would know when a hail storm would come. That's because you summoned it!" Johan aimed the torch at her.
"I watched the weather channel! They are the ones who knew it was going to storm. It's on the television, go look for yourselves!" She knew if they were smart enough to go look, she would be saved.
Spitting, Clemen glared at her. "We don't have one of those demon boxes. The devil rots the minds of all who watch through his evil hypnotic suggestions."
"I can't believe it. I'm going to die because I watched too much television." Lowering her head in shame, Dorothy felt disgusted. "My mother was right."
"Burn the witch!" Clemen grabbed the torch from Johan and threw it at Dorothy's feet.
The fire started in the twigs then quickly climbed the sticks and branches all around her. As the fire built, she felt her clothes singe and cling to her body. She started to cough as the smoke waffeded up and the heat stung her. Brilliant spots flashed across her vision and her head swam. Mouth too dry to cry out, Dorothy slumped forward in her binding.
Cheers rang out on the large farm as the Linstrums and their relatives celebrated the successful burning of a witch.
Suddenly, lightning struck the barn roof, instantly igniting the entire structure and vaporizing the back wall. More lightning struck the ground around their feet, hitting a few of the fleeing people. One woman disappeared in a brilliant explosion.
Clemen clenched his fists as he watched the fire avoid touching Dorothy's clothes. It would blacken the edges, but wouldn't light her or them on fire. In frustration, he tossed dried grass and twigs at her feet. "Burn, damn you, burn!" Before he could toss another arm load on, a lightning bolt struck him from behind and he disappeared.
When Dorothy awoke, she was soaked from the rain, and the Linstrum farm was ash. Glancing to the watch on her free wrist, she smirked. It had stopped during the fire. "Right on time." Putting her fingers to her lips, she blew a loud whistle. From out of the sky, a long stick with bristles appeared. Climbing on board, Dorothy kicked the air. "To St. Olaf, and step on it! I have a certain bubble head to deal with."
THE END
Author: Lopaka Tanu
Prompt: 12. Heat exhaustion/stroke
Claim: General Golden Girls
Rating: Mature Adults
Genre: Humor.
Summary: Dorothy meets a few of Rose's relatives.
Disclaimer: I do not own the Golden Girls.
_________________________________________
"Any last words before we burn you, witch?" Holding the flaming torch, Johan Linstrum stood with his cousins at the pyre ready to light it.
In the center of the pyre, attached to the stake, Dorothy glared at Rose's cousin. "I'll make sure all of you pay for this! I curse you all to a fiery death." An ironic choice of words that made her wince. "Lightning and hell fire shall rain down upon you, destroying you all!"
"A witch's curse ends with her, the good book says!" Holding up a leather bound edition written by Cotton Mather, Clemen Linstrum smirked at her. "We know all your tricks, witch!"
"Please, this is all a mistake." If threatening them hadn't worked, pleading might. "All I said was that it was going to hail yesterday."
"And it did! Only a witch would know when a hail storm would come. That's because you summoned it!" Johan aimed the torch at her.
"I watched the weather channel! They are the ones who knew it was going to storm. It's on the television, go look for yourselves!" She knew if they were smart enough to go look, she would be saved.
Spitting, Clemen glared at her. "We don't have one of those demon boxes. The devil rots the minds of all who watch through his evil hypnotic suggestions."
"I can't believe it. I'm going to die because I watched too much television." Lowering her head in shame, Dorothy felt disgusted. "My mother was right."
"Burn the witch!" Clemen grabbed the torch from Johan and threw it at Dorothy's feet.
The fire started in the twigs then quickly climbed the sticks and branches all around her. As the fire built, she felt her clothes singe and cling to her body. She started to cough as the smoke waffeded up and the heat stung her. Brilliant spots flashed across her vision and her head swam. Mouth too dry to cry out, Dorothy slumped forward in her binding.
Cheers rang out on the large farm as the Linstrums and their relatives celebrated the successful burning of a witch.
Suddenly, lightning struck the barn roof, instantly igniting the entire structure and vaporizing the back wall. More lightning struck the ground around their feet, hitting a few of the fleeing people. One woman disappeared in a brilliant explosion.
Clemen clenched his fists as he watched the fire avoid touching Dorothy's clothes. It would blacken the edges, but wouldn't light her or them on fire. In frustration, he tossed dried grass and twigs at her feet. "Burn, damn you, burn!" Before he could toss another arm load on, a lightning bolt struck him from behind and he disappeared.
When Dorothy awoke, she was soaked from the rain, and the Linstrum farm was ash. Glancing to the watch on her free wrist, she smirked. It had stopped during the fire. "Right on time." Putting her fingers to her lips, she blew a loud whistle. From out of the sky, a long stick with bristles appeared. Climbing on board, Dorothy kicked the air. "To St. Olaf, and step on it! I have a certain bubble head to deal with."
THE END