DESERT DISASTER

“You reckless ass, hurry up, the deserts not around the corner, we haven’t got all day a snail could easily beat you in a race. Anyway I want to have my lunch” bellowed Mr Bencar, his curly moustache flickered one way then then another. Being a boss Mr B was always bossy thinking he was the best, just because he was head chef at a restaurant. All he wanted to do is well tell people to shut up.

Tired of Mr B’s orders Florence, a chef at the restaurant, pressed down the excelorater for the twelth time. She was sick and tired of her boss pushing her around, plus she hated driving these long journeys. It was a shame Mr Bencar couldn’t drive. The land rover sped up pushing the little wind the world offered, in different directions.

Finally the land rover came to sudden halt, with the accompanyment of a loud bellowing voice.

 “Park that dreadful car of yours!” shrieked once again Mr B.

“Very well,” Sighed Florence, even more tired of Mr Bencar, if it could be possible!

Eventually, the car was parked and Mr B and Florence were ready for the day trip. Slowly, Mr Bencar promenaded badly down the stony path that lay ahead of them. The fat, small figure of Mr Bencar and the tall, slim Florence looked rather bizarre next to each other.

After ten minutes of walking Mr Bencar was getting tired on this ‘dreary’ path.

“We must go into the proper desert,” Insisted Mr B domineeringly.

“Well, I’m sure the path would be fine, I mean there are lots of dangerous snakes out there and –“ urged Florence a little concerned.

“It’s going to be fine, I’ve been to 2 million different deserts and I have never been bitten by a, uh, watsit, snake, yes snake, I’ve never been by a silly snake,” Snapped Mr B, going as red as a ladybird.

“Yes, Mr Bencar whatever you say,” Sighed Florence. “But I am going to warn you.”

Poshly, Mr B strode of into the desert with Florence closely behind him, petrified.

Once in this vast stretch of sand a sudden shock pulsed through Mr.  Bencar’s fat right ankle. He looked down at his sandal, his ankle was swelling up as big as a pumpkin and two teeth marks had red blood dripping out of them, drip, drip, drip. It made him feel giddy. Suddenly he fell to the ground with a deafening thump.

Scared stiff, Florence turned around to see what tragedy had befallen Mr Bencar.

“Huh,” She gasped in terror. There lying on the floor, as lifeless as a door knob was her bossy, ignorant, pompous boss.

“Huh,” Another gasp was said. A snake, shiny like a brand new car slithered past, it was as long as a ladder. A petrified shiver climbed down her back. She watched the snake slowly drift off into the sand dunes.

Eventually, Florence’s mind set back to her usual laid back self. 

“What shall I do, he’s always mean and horrible to me, but there again I will loose my job,” Florence inquired herself.

Outraged at her thoughtless words Florence decided to fetch the land rover. However, she didn’t think that walking about one mile into the desert would get her and Mr B lost. Hurriedly, she looked in every direction, but only a sand blanket draped the deserts scolding floor.

“Oh, no, huh, yes phone,” Muttered Florence as scared as a mouse being chased by a cat. With tears entering her lost and forlorn eyes, Florence turned her phone on, the batteries where flat. Sorrowful as ever she tried the button again. They where lost.

Slowly hours past, Florence kept giving a small glance at the weakening body that lay next to her, his fat tummy blowing out and in, out and in.

As weak as a spider, Florence dazed off to sleep with the thought of water cooling her hot sweating brow and giving moisture to her dry, sore lips. Thinking the scary thought that she would never leave the desert’s sandy floor’s again.

Refreshed Florence woke up, a cool breeze hitting her forehead. Startled, she looked around, she couldn’t remember where she was. Blury eyed she stood up, with difficulty. She was surrounded by paramedics, TV presenters and their camera and sound men. Everybody was looking at something, Mr Bencar.

“Excuse me,” She croaked. “Whatever has happened to Mr Bencar?”

“Marm, I’m afraid to say, HE’S DEAD,” A paramedic explained.

A fear burst in her tummy, now was the time to leave.

“How will I get home?” She asked a helicopter pilot.

“Hop in,” He answered.

It was a long and tiresome journey for everyone.  Twenty of them managed to fit into 2 helicopters.

However, there where 21 that came to the desert…

THE END 

BY Phoebe Dove

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1 Response to

  1. Edward Dove says:

    Well done Phoebe. I particularly like the similes you use.

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