Hello everyone! As part of Short Story Saturday, I have posted another short story, this one entitled Confabulation during the Consumption of Morningtide Comestibles. Please enjoy. The original writing prompt is taken from https://www.writersdigest.com/prompts/one-shot
“You seem to have quite an appetite this morning,” the woman muttered as she took his plate from where the man was seated at the kitchen table. He had just finished eating his third bagel of the morning, and this was after eating a couple of instant waffles.
The man smirked. “Samantha, my darling Spouse, I’m adverse to admit that my gastronomic rapacity knows no satiety.”
“Uh-huh,” the brunette-haired woman said with a sigh, “Cute. Anyway, my sister is thinking about visiting tonight. Would you mind if she did?”
“The gourmand?” the stout bearded gentleman asked. He placed his fist gently down on the table mocking a fist slam. “Banning her from my abode, preposterous to even entertain such a sentiment. Nay, delectation of her comestibles shall commence tonight!”
Samantha rolled her eyes so hard they practically rolled out of her skull. “If you say so. I think I’ll take off early from work, then. Do you think you’d be able to do the same?”
“Lamentably, no,” the man said as he slumped his shoulders and looked downward dejectedly, “A triumvirate of mountebanks hold Machiavellian dominance over that epoch of existence.”
His wife looked at him askance as she placed the dishes in the sink. “Triumvirate? Don’t you work for a board of directors? Also, I don’t think you used the words ‘mountebanks’ or ‘Machiavellian’ properly.” After a moment’s pause, she continued, “I suppose if you stretch the definitions a bit and kind of infer that you are using hyperbole to insult your bosses then those words would work. It’s a bit of a stretch though.”
“Indubitably,” the man said, his smirk returning, “My personal lexicon exceeds the conventional personage.”
“I know what you’re doing, Allen. You’ve made your point.”
A look of anger entered the man’s eyes and he wore a snarl on his face. “Are you implying my newfound vernacular was berthed from our tete-a-tete in the boudoir? Poppycock! Edification is the watchword! The aspiration was born of the yearning for self-improvement.”
Samantha slammed her hands onto the kitchen table and stared her husband straight in the eyes. “Look, I didn’t mean to criticize your vocabulary. I just wanted you to stop dropping ‘f-bombs’ and using other four-letter words as adjectives, especially since some of those words are technically nouns. Besides, who do you think you’re fooling? I know you learned most of those words from that episode of The Simpsons.”
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That’s a funny take. He got his vocabulary the same place you did, I think.
The Simpsons taught me how to increase my wordiness.