A Scrabble of Words

This prompt came from a rather saucy Scrabble board game! We were to write a story using as many of the words as possible. I didn’t use ‘we’, ‘et’ and ‘lig’. Not bad!


The words were:

Quim, tin, arse, jett, dash of, eye, flog, unites, hard, up, me, coned, lava, et, lig, king, dix, ow, we, sue, jif, loud, grazed, sieve, math, ore, beef, roy, suave, plain, coke, atlas, sob, crow, mead.




Once upon a time, there was a beautiful land. The country was ruled by King Jett. His son, Prince Jett Junior was engaged to be married. The king began to arrange the wedding feast. Only the finest food and drink of the land would do. The king sent out his knights to select the tenderest beef, the sweetest fruits, the choicest vegetables and the syrupiest mead for the feast. One of the knights, the suave Sir Dix, knew there was only one place to secure such produce—his place of birth, the village of Quim.


Quim was many days’ ride south from the palace. It was settled at the base of the great Atlas Mountain divide whose lava-rich soils created lush bush. But there were many challenges for this quest. Sir Dix mounted his trusty stead, Roy, and set out.


The first obstacle the knights met with were the sparkling blue lakes Ore and Tin whose beaches were made of crushed pearls and shores edged by fern lashes. Anyone who crossed the thin spit between the two lakes had to be happy in their heart, otherwise the lakes would swell and break their banks and drown the sorrowful travellers. Dix watched two knights washed away as they took their heavy hearts on the narrow path, and they dropped like stones into the bottom of the lake. But Dix scooped up a handful of crushed pearl and watched the sun reflect a rainbow, which made his heart happy. He put the pearl dust in his pocket and set off across the spit without a drop of water splashing Roy’s hooves.


The second challenge was a small overhang in which hidden caves held snot-trolls. The trolls could smell not only the age of a loaf of bread but any whiff of fear from those that crested their promontory, and fear was their favourite meal. Three knights ahead of him were inhaled as they leapt off the edge, but Dix was as courageous as they come and leapt effortlessly onward. If he escaped the snot-trolls, he still had to contend with the strawberry swamp that lay beyond the rise. Three fearless knights misread the leap and sunk into the quicksand quagmire of juicy strawberries, never to be seen again. But Roy sailed right over the luscious strawberry field.


Now just six knights were left on the quest. Some went left and some went right seeking veins of red gold. But Dix knew the prize lay through the Valley of Dreams and across the Plain of Hunger. If he did his math right, he should arrive at Quim just in time. He rode hard through the Valley of Dreams, not daring to look at the milky clouds that hovered on the peaks. He urged Roy on and on over the sandy expanse of the great plains, where no food grew. At last, he came across the Oasis of Button and he drank deeply from the spring that was said to be the source of all life. He leapt back on Roy’s trusty back and flogged the poor stead. Sir Dix’s heart beat loud, his fervour growing like the crest of a wave.


Quim was a magical place. Not everybody could find it, to start with. It was hidden by hedges overgrown with delicate, frilly flowers, whose heady scents could lull a person or horse to sleep. Then, a visitor had to pass through a tunnel so dark that they could get disorientated and know not which way was in or out. And the gates opened just once a moontime to receive visitors.


As Dix approached the gates of the village, he placed plugs of soil in his nose, so he wasn’t intoxicated by the flowers before he arrived. He placed his coned helmet on his head for protection and headed into the dark tunnel. He drew out the pearl dust which had captured the sun and it lit his way. At last, he arrived and he could see the bustling village with fat cows grazing and harvests piled high and vats of mead that made his mouth water. He ached for rest and revival. He quivered in anticipation for the sweet crash of coming home.


“Who goes there?” a voice said from behind the gate.

“My name is Sir Dix, I come from the palace to buy provisions for the royal wedding feast.”



“Yes,” said the woman called Sue, who guarded the gates that day, “Papers!”

“This is my place of birth! I don’t need papers.”

“Just because you once lived here, it doesn’t mean you may come and go as you please, good sir.”

Dix let out a loud sigh, and his shoulders drooped.

“Where can I get the paperwork from?” he asked.

Sue looked him in the eye. “The queen, my Lord. Only the queen gives permission to enter the gates of Quim.”

“The queen, the one married to the king?”

“Yes, my Lord.”

“Well, blow me down! I can’t get there and back in time. Is there anywhere I can buy a decent side of beef, some mead with a dash of magic, or even a can of Coke will do?” he asked.

“Give me a jif,” Sue said, feeling a little sorry for the deflated knight.

She came back with a piece of paper with a mud map drawn upon it.

“The village of Arse, it’s not far from here. Just cross the bridge that unites the light with the dark. You can’t miss it.”

“Will they let me in without permission from the queen?”

“Goodness, no! But they put their bins out every day at dusk. You might sieve through and find something in there.”

Dix gave a sob and took the map. He withdrew from the dark tunnel and banged his head on the way out.

“Ow!” he howled.