Cousin Eric’s Burger

I’ve been thinking of trying something on the darker side for a change so I hope you’ll accept this second response to the Friday Fictioneers prompt. My efforts at inserting a dark and sinister twist to a tale will begin with this scene from Friday Fictioneers Family picnic.

Friday Fictioneers is hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields, a gifted writer of historical fiction. Check out her blog for the “Blue Frog” link to all the other stories written for this prompt. This week’s photo prompt is supplied by CE Ayr a writer of short fiction tales with a twist. (Please note: this photo is copyright and cannot be used elsewhere without the owner’s permission.)


Cousin Eric’s Burger

Cousin Eric enthralled the children with his “alien space rock” story at the FF picnic.  Little Andy, especially, peppered Eric with questions until his mom finally shushed him.

While fixing their burgers by the grill, Andy piped up again. “Uncle Eric…”

“Hush! You’ve pestered Uncle enough.”

“But Mom…”

Dad frowned. “Not another word until after dinner.” Andy sighed and shrugged.

After they’d eaten Eric said, “Now Andy, what did you want to tell me so badly before?”

“Two flies landed in the ketchup on your burger and you didn’t see when you put the top on. It doesn’t matter now. They’ve…uh…disappeared.”


Our beloved Aunt Ardatha Flint, attending the event, took notes on the ruckus Andy’s announcement caused, for anyone who’s interested:

Andy’s mother and father were duly horrified, embarrassed and chastened. (Hop it, Mark Twain. Long live adjectives!)

Cousins Eric and Martin wrote a new blues tune for the occasion. Sounded something like, “There’s a bier on my steer,” but don’t quote me.

Cousin Shelley and other tender-hearted ones were blinded by tears. Cousin Dale — a bit sassy — burst something while rolling on the floor laughing. Didn’t catch what; I think she said it in French.

Cousins Bill and Russ gagged — but they’ve swallowed worse in their day. (We all know who munch the mums last week.) The Scottish cousins insisted, “Nothin’ but mutton for me!” Cousin Sandra, the cook, threatened to stuff them with haggis.

Cousin Sabina mulled over this extra spice while Cousin Reena vowed to reinvent the hamburger. The vegan cousins, feeling vindicated, were blooming with good cheer.

Cousins Iain and Indira I’d us indecisively; Cousin Kat searched for one of her nine lives that escaped in the ruckus. Cousin Keith puzzled over a text message he insists was written in Greek.

The British cousins bristled when they heard others joke about doing a Brexit from this unprofitable clan. “Rubbing salt in the wounds!” they wailed. Then when the Yanks started yukking it up about “Boston iced tea” I feared we’d have a Donnybrook.

But Cousin Linda urged everyone to remain calm, Cousin Sarah dealt with the pottier ones and Dr Ali in front of the stair, attempted to reprogramme the hotheads.

Cousin CE, just in from France, offered to make a short story of the fuss by feeding us all to Nessie. However, I’ve heard her bite isn’t too sound anymore.

Cousin Chris was extremely cross when her membership in the Miss Marple Mystery and Mayhem Society was suddenly and inexplicably annulled. (How I love adverbs!)

33 thoughts on “Cousin Eric’s Burger

  1. That was so much fun, Christine! And… as for dark…. I think it is more of a light grey instead of black!
    I think you can see we all enjoyed being a part of the “play”!

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thanks for your comment. Yeah, I do light grey and am content — at least for now. My muse is cogitating. 🙂

      Speaking of colours, did you hear about the flooded streets in Saskatoon after the rainstorm last week? The folks around Regina will be green — figuratively. Literally I think they’re pretty brown. 😦


    1. Maybe they’d just walked across the pickles and, remember, they were slathered in ketchup, mustard, and whatever else you put on your burgers. 🙂
      My husband doesn’t like meat — never has — so when he has to eat a burger he puts enough condiments on that he can’t even taste the burger, never mind the odd fly. 😉
      Thanks for reading and leaving your comment, Eric.

      Liked by 1 person

  2. Dear Christine,

    Dark? More of a fly by night affair…or rather, two flies by day. 😉 I should gig you for all of the extra verbiage in the guise of an epilogue, but it was too funny and I enjoyed it. Thanks for that bit of entertainment. 😀


    Cousin Shelley


    1. Ha-ha! As I told Eric, by way of consolation, this story is a huge tweak from an incident in the life of a royal grandson Albert(?), who tried to tell Grandfather King Edward there was a caterpillar in his peach. “But it doesn’t matter now. You’ve eaten it already.”

      You’re right about the extra verbiage — I repent in sackcloth and ashes. It was optional, but I shall behave myself in future. 🙂


  3. I think you have succeeded in your dark and serious twist. This is right up there with the Gayer School of Writing, nice one. Say, there is something awfully familiar in the names of the people at the picnic.


    1. Thanks for your comment and for recognizing my dark and serious abilities. 🙂 As far as the Gayer School of Writing goes, I heard he was printing up diplomas to hand our whenever needed so mine’s probably in the mail.
      Speaking of diplomas, I received one from the Govt of Saskatchewan no less, recognizing the fact that I had completed an upgrading course. And it said, “Congradulations on completing your XX course.” Oh, we laughed. If the govt can’t spell, who can? 🙂
      Yes, you may recognize a few familiar names. A writer has to have some source of names to draw from. 😉


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