Nimrod's Revenge (First Place)

Sir Tanner lowered his helmet shield in place and picked up his lance.  He admired the red and black stripes of the flag fastened to the tip. He just hoped that the Giant Nimrod would not notice the flower pattern hidden beneath the paint.  He’d never hear the end of it.  Not to mention tulips weren’t exactly scary.   

And if his mother missed her favorite pillow case when she got home….  Well, he’d never feel the end of that.  He sighed.  A brave knight had to risk much for glory, and a noble flag was a necessity. 

Tanner sat down on his bed and stared at his alarm clock.  The appointed time for the battle would soon be upon him.  He would be brave.  He would be noble.  He would be dead if his plan didn’t work.

The door bell rang, and Tanner squeaked. Crawling over to the window, he inched back his Sir Arthur curtains.  From his second story window, he could see his nemesis standing below with his goons.  Tanner snorted.  Like the Giant Nimrod needed backup.  He had a good five inches and forty pounds on him.

The doorbell rang again, and Tanner sprang into action.  Lifting the bucket of paint, Tanner dumped it out the window.  An outraged screech exploded followed by muffled laughter. 

Oh, no.  That didn’t sound like Nimrod.  Tanner dared to peek over the sill, and his blood ran cold. His mother stood there glaring up at him; her face and hair were striped with red and black paint. Nimrod and his goons had stepped back off the stoop and now stood there smirking.

Tanner had a bad feeling he should have just taken the butt-whoopin’ Nimrod had promised him.     



Word Count 287