Wednesday, June 15, 2011

Wild Card Wednesday

It's Wednesday and that means that it's once again time for Wild Card Wednesday, hosted by yours truly. Every Wednesday I'll be posting a prompt that requires bloggers to use both their imaginations and what they read to answer it. Your answers can be in any form you like and they don't even have to make a whole lot of sense. The point is to have fun!

If you'd like to participate, just add a link to your Wild Card Wednesday post in the linking tool below.

This week's prompt is: Insert yourself into a crucial scene from one of your favorite books. Make sure that whatever you do in that scene ruins the intended outcome. (e.g.: Were the main characters finally going to kiss? Not anymore. Was the good guy going to triumph over evil? Not if you can help it.)

My answer:

[Elizabeth] was suddenly roused by the sound of the door bell; and her spirits were a little fluttered by the idea of its being Colonel Fitzwilliam himself, who had once before called late in the evening, and might now come to enquire particularly after her. But this idea was soon banished, and her spirits were very differently affected, when, to her utter amazement, she saw Mr. Darcy walk into the room. In a hurried manner he immediately began an enquiry after her health, imputing his visit to a wish of hearing that she were better. She answered him with cold civility. He sat down for a few moments, and then getting up walked about the room. Elizabeth was surprised, but said not a word. After a silence of several minutes, he came towards her in an agitated manner, and thus began--

"In vain have I struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how--"

But he got no further. Again the bell rang and this time a servant came into the room.

"What is it?" Elizabeth asked.

"Sorry, madam, but there's a Mr. James at the door. He says that he's here about a leak in the roof."

Elizabeth nodded. "Yes, it's in this very room, actually. Send him in."

Mr. Darcy gave her a strange, troubled look. She returned his look with a terse smile. "You were saying?" she prompted.

He struggled for a moment to regain his train of thought. "I was saying, miss, that my feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how--"

A short, chubby man with a ladder burst into the room. He held a hand out to Mr. Darcy. "Name's Gabriel, gov'nor. Where's the leak?"

Mr. Darcy looked at the man's hand uncertainly. "It's not my leak," he replied.

Elizabeth guided the handyman over to a nearby corner. "It's over here," she explained. "Charlotte said it's been driving her mad all week."

The man named Gabriel looked up at the ceiling. "Don't seem too big. I'll have that fixed in a flash." He set the ladder down heavily. "Be right back."

After he had left, Mr. Darcy rushed over to Elizabeth again. "I fear this has all gone wrong. I had it all rehearsed in my head."

"What?" Elizabeth said absently. "Oh, right, you were saying something, Mr. Darcy?"

"You must allow me to tell you how ardently--"

A loud cough told the pair that Gabriel had returned. He was carrying the tools of his trade in each hand and rudely parted the two of them as he crossed the room headed for the leak. "Sorry to call so late," he apologized. "There seems to be a lot of this going around the neighborhood. Just that time of year, I guess." As he climbed up the ladder, he continued, "It's a good thing you caught this when you did. If this had gotten any bigger, you could have had a real mess on your hands."

"How dreadful," Elizabeth replied.

"Right you are, miss," Gabriel said. "Can't be too careful with a leaky ceiling."

Mr. Darcy looked as if he were about to explode but he kept his calm. "Right, well, we'll just leave you to your work, then, shall we?"

"Sure, sure," the man replied. "Don't worry about me." He gave a wink. "You won't even know that I'm here."

Mr. Darcy led Elizabeth across the room by her elbow, stopping just out of earshot of the handyman. "Elizabeth, you must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire--"

"Woah there!" Gabriel exclaimed fearfully.

"WHAT?" Darcy screamed.

Two pairs of eyes turned towards the handyman--one full of rage, the other of concern. Gabriel saw them looking at him and replied sheepishly, "The

"WELL DO SHUT UP!" the angry man boomed. To Elizabeth he roared, "YOU MUST ALLOW ME TO TELL YOU HOW ARDENTLY I ADMIRE AND LOVE YOU!"

Before Elizabeth could respond, Mr. Darcy threw his arms into the air and let out a frustrated moan. Then he turned on his heels and stormed out, leaving Elizabeth bewildered in his wake.

Gabriel tutted at her from his ladder. "Ah, miss, I hope you don't mind me sayin' so, could do a lot better."

[NOTE: The entire first paragraph was taken directly from Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen.]



  1. My creative juices simply aren't flowing today (ugh can't believe I used that phrase, it really irks me out) so I'm going to tackle Wild Card Wednesday...on Thursday!

    I loved your story, I also completely knew you'd pick a scene from P&P!

  2. "Creative juices" is one of those phrases that no one actually likes but that everyone uses. Can't wait to see what you write!

    Thanks! I literally pulled this prompt out of thin air and I kept staring at the screen going, "Don't pick Pride and Prejudice. Don't pick Pride and Prejudice." I was scouring my GoodReads list for something else, but I just couldn't, well, get my creative juices flowing. :)

  3. Ugh, there you go, my terrible terrible attempt! Be kind!

  4. It's not terrible. I thought it was funny. :)